King Minos leaned forward in his throne room chair.

“I have much respect for your father. He built up quite a formidable kingdom in such a short time.” The king cleared his throat. “Some very talented philosophers and artisans have come from your island. Your father is truly an incredible man.”

Atticus smiled. “He would appreciate your words, sir. However, he’d be quick to tell you that my mother built the kingdom alongside him. Queens are often instrumental parts of success.”

Pasiphae smiled softly.

“Quite true, young man.” Minos arched a brow. “How often we overlook the contributions of the gentler sex.”

Ariadne, the princess of the isle, stood quietly to the side of her mother. She kept casting furtive glances at Atticus, playing idly with the folds of her gown.

“A king needs his queen. Just as prince needs his princess. We have searched for a suitable match for years. We hope that you consider it.” Minos fixed Atticus with his sharp gaze.

Hey there everyone! WHOO! Finally got a reprieve, as I’m done with my drawings for my final project, now I have to continue typing the written parts.

Done largely in part because I love the lore, practice drawing human characters, and to pass the time whenever I need a breather from from college.

While researching for the lore of Dark Souls for my In-progress AU Comic, I noticed how LARGE the mythology of Dark Souls and the deities that reside, along with the fan speculation of which god corresponds with whom and etc. In spite of all this, from what I can tell, outside of Gwyn’s family, there has never been a, for lack of a better term, “compendium piece” of the gods and goddesses of dark souls, so I made my own :D

Because some gods are not represented in imagery, I decided to design how they might look if they ever showed up amongst mortals. I owe a lot to Tumblr, Reddit and the DS fandom as a whole, the amount of theory and lore discussions are always gold, and of course, the lore-lords like @vaatividya and @silver-mont, their vids are always interesting to watch :)

From the Top Row: The Bearers of the Lord Souls

Gravelord Nito: No need for an explanation here xD

Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight: Drawing him was easy, but here I wanted portray a very stern, no-nonsense god king who really, REALLY is someone you don’t want to piss off, and someone who is almost NEVER happy and/or satisfied.

The Witch of Izalith: I’m honestly surprised there’s not much fanart of how her face might look like, so I pitched in. She basically resembles her daughters, but with a more matriarchal vibe, with a stronger jawline and sharper eyes to reflect that. She’s also very tall, towering over Gwyn and just slightly edging out NK in height.

The Furtive Pygmies, featuring Manus and a Pygmy Lord: With the Ringed City revealing that there were SEVERAL pygmies, I had quite some fun with the speculation and possibilities of how the Pygmies as a whole looked like.

Personally? I simply interpret them as humans but more, with more power over the dark soul, but otherwise having different roles in society like regular folk, the Ringed Knights are Warriors, the Lords are the rulers, etc.

I put Manus amongst them, why? Because no way should ONE man be able to have THAT much abyss power just because he’s a human. Since the dark soul is divided amongst humans, I interpret him having a huge chunk of the Dark Soul (as per these two threads), and thus was simply a mighty sorceror who happened to be really, REALLY old, even by Pygmy standards. Plus I always wondered… How does one torture a dead man? The Mad King was described as undying, so according to my own logic, he wasn’t totally “dead” when he was buried. His grave could signify him wanting a modicum of peace, after all, his entire race was basically put in a glorified prison by Gwyn… Sensing the growing madness within him (probably due to sheer isolation), he probably decided to “die” on his own terms in Oolacile… then future idiots proceeded to listen to TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL SERPENT and dug up his grave.

The random Pygmy Lord is basically representing one of the first Pygmy Lords.

Second Row: The Children of the Gods

The Nameless King, Firstborn of Gwyn, God of War: In a short period of time, has become my favorite character amongst the gods… There’s so much of a story to tell from him, his relationship with his family, the reasons as to WHY he betrayed the dragons, and thanks to lore threads a-plenty, I interpret him as one of the most honorable and dedicated of the gods. He watches over his warriors of sunlight even if they ARE humans (whom Gwyn HATES) AND he protects Dragons. Despite meI head-canoning him bigger than Gwyn and is in general a wall of muscle and armor, he’s STILL shorter than his sisters.

Gwynevere, Goddess of Fertility: Gwynevere here I interpret as one of the nicer gods, so I made her expression to reflect such. Because Gwyndolin’s illusion of her may be simply him projecting what he remembers most of her and thus potentially exaggerating certain aspects, I toned down a lot the “Aphrodite-esque” glamor, in favor of a more personable look, though still decked out.

Filianore: The daughter we know even less of than Gwynevere, but thanks to a certain reddit thread that discussed how dedicated NK was to her via the floral carvings that is present in Archdragon peak… She must have been someone who NK was VERY close with, so I interpret her as the “Always trying to bring life to the family” kind of sister, though closest to her eldest brother.

Gwyndolin: The Dark Sun himself. Not much else to say here, I just wanted to draw him happy for once… Because WHY FROM? He really, really needs it.

The Daughters of Chaos

Quelana, Mother of Pyromancy: Due to her own title, I interpret her as the Studious Daughter, incredibly dedicated to her craft and always finding out ways to further her pyromancy… Until the Chaos Flame incident happened of course… Then she became wracked with survivor’s guilt…

I also interpret her as being the responsible one looking out to make sure her sisters don’t do anything too brash… Though in hindsight, that would make her suvivor’s guilt worse.

Quelaag: The most well known Chaos Daughter, and whom I interpret as The Aggressive Daughter, hence why she’s the only one of the sisters with a melee weapon. As the most in-your-face daughter I head-canon that she is the one who lowers down her hood the most, especially when she feels like challenging someone. Also VERY protective of her family.

Quelaan, The Fair Lady: Last but not least, I interpret Quelaan as always having been the shyest and nicest of the daughters. Her hood is more drooped down compared to Quelana, to highlight her shyness.

Fun fact, while trying to find her real name, turns out the name Quelaan was the name the community gave to her, and just became established fanon, so I just opted to name her just that.

Third Row: Other Members of the Larger Pantheon

All-Father Lloyd: Gwyn’s uncle, founder of the Way of White. Now there IS speculation that he’s not real, but here I interpret as the real deal, and thus looks like a wimpier, older version of Gwyn, yet still has an aura of authority. I used a bit of Paladin Leeroy for his crown, because I interpret that, when he REALLY needs to get his hands dirty, he too wields a mace, setting an example to all paladin-esque worshipers after him.

His clothes are tattered despite being the godly equivalent of a pontiff, to highlight two things:

One, despite him being a “lord”, his tattered look is to signify he is not “above” the rabble/his followers.

Two, I head-canon him becoming slowly more insane and full of hate toward the undead,as more and more of his family and friends either dies off or leaving home… He eventually disappears for unknown reasons and becomes forgotten.

Fina, Goddess of Love: The most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife, or at least his first, I wanted to design her with the Embraced Set in mind, just modified to look more queenly rather than armor. Going by the general fanon, I interpret her as the mother of both NK and Gwynevere, but due to unknown circumstances, just up-and-left. Why? I dunno I haven’t thought that deep :(

Also wanted to try out and giving her a different look, skin-tone and facial wise compared to all the other gods and goddesses out there.

Velka, Goddess of Sin: My favorite goddess, her lore and weaponry associated with her is cool, but even with DS3 and all its DLC, I wish we got to know more of her and how she even became the one to hold the title of “goddess of sin” and how she absolves it. She is also, I noticed in fan-art and fanfic, the other most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife.

Due to the fact that both Gwyndolin and Filianore are associated with illusions and magic, I interpret her as the mother of Filianore and Gwyndolin. She has sharp features and very pale skin, and share’s Filianore’s dark hair.

For her design, I compared aspects of the Statue of Velka from DS3, and both Oswald of Carim and Cromwell the pardoner. I didn’t want her to strictly dress like Oswald and Cromwell, so I incorporated more feathers to her outfit to give her a more “regal” look, as befitting a goddess, and not just pardoner. Funnily enough, with her book of sins and outfit, she also gives the aura of a medieval judge.

Caitha, Goddess of Tears: The third goddess associated with Carim, and one that I intentionally kept her eyes hidden. Mentioned in both 2 and 3, I want to reflect her constant “mourning” nature, and since ‘Gentle Prayer’ is associated with her chime in DS3, I thought her being in a position of prayer would be most appropriate.

Nahr Alma, God of Blood and Murder: Take Titchy Gren, make him more beast-like in proportion, now make him the size of Father Ariandel with the animalistic agility of the Orphan of Kos or Slave Knight Gael, and you have the God of Blood himself. I interpret him as a kind of god that is shunned by the rest, and is mostly treated as an attack dog, and nothing more. REALLY resents the other gods.

venus in aries is young love. romantic comedy. beginnings are the best parts
venus in taurus is decadent love. feeding your lover fruit from your hands.
venus in gemini is an elusive love. the heart is volleyed back and forth in a game of emotional tennis.
venus in cancer is a familiar love. nourishing and sustaining, an umbilical cord.
venus in leo is a bombastic love. massive gestures of affection. no greater love
venus in virgo is the love you deserve. a gentle kiss on the hand. coy, polite, furtive. patient and flexible
venus in libra is the perfect love. the love you want. idealized and imaginary. sweeter than sugar, softer than silk. fairytale love
venus in scorpio is forbidden love. the danger is enthralling. temptation, seduction, mystery, depth
venus in sagittarius is adventurous love. unlimited love. expanding beyond the boundaries of the mind and body
venus in capricorn is the love you earn. a reward for your dedication and effort. you get back what you put forth
venus in aquarius is untouchable love. love that gives you space and demands it too. but a love that makes you feel like you belong
venus is pisces is the love you imagine. a reflection of your deepest desires. a mirror into your heart


Australian Night Parrot

The night parrot (Pezoporus occidentalis) is a small parrot endemic to the continent of Australia. It is well known as being one of the most elusive and mysterious birds in the world, with no known sightings of the bird between 1912 and 1979, leading to speculation that it was extinct. The first photographic and video evidence of a live individual was publicly confirmed in July 2013. Another live individual was photographed in March 2017.

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Meet out screenwritress, Caroline. She was introduced to the world of Sherlock Holmes through the BBC adaptation, but truly fell in love when she sat down and read the original stories. She knew Sherlock and John were in love the moment Sherlock picked up his cocaine at the end of the Sign of the Four. Since then, she has been dissatisfied with the way the relationship between Sherlock and John was handled (excluding fanfiction) and decided to take matters into her own hands! She is “known” for her comedic writing and is ecstatic to show you her hilarious and tooth achingly sweet romantic take on our favorite detective!


Berry Orgy would go on to be furtively purchased and eaten by horny pimpled pre-teens across the world, playing a hand in the coming of age to many, truly to them what Playboy was to us. A sister flavor, Wonka’s Willy, wouldn’t be nearly as popular and ultimately led to the arrest and ignoble end to one of the greats of our time.

Day One Hundred and Thirteen

-A trio of equally eager and elderly women approached me at my register. One jammed her phone into my hand and pleaded with me to get her a ten-dollar coupon. I told her that I had a paper copy I could scan for her instead. She continued to force her phone upon me. I was left with very few options. I hope I chose the proper one.

-A woman handed me a stack of gift cards after already completing the payment process, expecting me to be able to subtract them from the total after the fact. She insisted I use them anyway, so I voided her transaction and attempted to run it again. It was not until the receipt had printed that I found she had not learned from the past and instead doomed herself to a repeat.

-I have never been a morning person, but I believe that my morning shifts may change that. I am finding that this is the time where the store is filled almost solely with sweet elderly people and lovable infants with almost none of the rowdy hooligans or sexist businessmen.

-A young four year-old girl, once given stickers, proceeded to take the only natural action. She slapped one right on the side of her infant brother’s face, leaving neither he nor his mother any the wiser.

-A woman handed me a cut-out coupon. It was not a coupon. The woman insisted I accept her coupon. In large print, it read, “NOT A COUPON.” She asked me to accept her coupon.

-I have once again witnessed the mind-boggling sight of a man of potentially Middle Eastern descent wearing what was potentially religious garb. This was not the baffling part, but rather, the panicked frenzy of furtive looks, clenched fists, and hushed murmurs of “I’m not a racist, but-”. I am relieved by these murmurs though, as, were it not for them, there would be no denying their deep-seated racist tendencies. However, as they said, such is not the case, so they may live free of all guilt.

-The single most squeezable youngster came through my lane. We shared a thought-provoking conversation based upon all of the words that she knew. She started off on a deep note, saying, “Stickers,” as I had just handed her stickers. She then made an interesting point by remarking, “Glasses,” due to the fact that I was sporting glasses. She finally brought this conversation to an impactful close as she solemnly said, “Back,” while turning and pointing to show me that she had a back.

-A man’s girlfriend said, “I have a quarter.” A woman’s boyfriend said, “I have an eighth.” This was followed by the heaviest silence I have yet to witness at my register. I watched her eyes glaze over as she made a mental note to break up with him the moment they escaped the public eye.

During Jack and Bitty’s 2nd summer together...

So Jack is in Georgia for a couple of days, right, and he comes back from a morning run to find both Bittle parents in the kitchen eating breakfast (Bitty slowly dragging is ass out of bed, he can hear the bathroom upstairs). 

Suzanne greets him with a smile, Coach with a nod, Jack sits down to eat. Usually, there’s a fair amount of chatter- even without Bitty- because Jack is comfortable with both parents, but now they’re eating in silence. Throwing furtive glances at Jack. At each other. At Jack again.

Jack’s stars feeling the tingle in his fingers that announces his anxiety. He counts the seconds until Bitty leaves the bathroom- no, that was the sound of the shower. Alright then.

Suzanne places her mug back on the table.

- Jack, sweetheart, we need to talk to you.

Coach takes a sip of coffee and sits back straight.

- …Alright? says Jack.

- We’ve seen the way you look at Junior, says Coach in a matter-of-fact voice.

(more under the cut)

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The End of the World

12x10 coda

Long after the beer in their bottles had warmed, long after Sam had excused himself to ‘do some research,’ Dean and Castiel sat at the table in silence. Dean shot furtive glances at Castiel, who had taken to rubbing his thumb around the opening of his bottle.

The silence was deafening.

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know,” Cas said abruptly.
Dean blinked. After today, Cas could be referring to just about anything.

“My death,” Cas continued, thumb moving in slow, methodical circles around the top, “It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was rough, thick with worry. He’d heard enough of what the angel, and Lily, for that matter, had said to him. Not to mention nobody could hold a self-grudge quite as well as the angel.

“You saw how today went,” Castiel continued evenly, “You almost died. Again. Because of me.”

“Pretty sure you weren’t the one coming at me with an angel blade,” Dean replied, weakly trying (and failing) to interject a tone of humor.

Cas scoffed. “It doesn’t change the fact it was my mistake that dragged you into the mess to begin with. It was my mistake Lily Sunders was dragged into it too and…” he paused, thumb on the edge of the rim, balancing over a precipice it seemed. Cas sighed, his hand fell away from the bottle. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you if I was gone.”

The floor seemed to fall away and Dean had to stifle a gasp. He’d spent most of his time nursing a not-so-subtle anger at Cas and when Cas had returned it, Dean had taken that as a sign that Cas was fine. And yeah, Cas offering to let Lily take him down would have been worrisome, but Cas was smart, he was kind, he was just saying what she needed to hear…wasn’t he?

Castiel proffered a small smile, looking up at Dean at last. “At least you wouldn’t have to worry about my stupid ideas anymore, right?"  

It’s said with some humor, like Cas expects Dean to agree and smile right alongside him. Dean just felt sick to his stomach. Taking a shaky breath, Dean stood. Made his way to Cas. Knelt at the angel’s feet, anchoring himself by putting both hands on Cas’ knees as he looked into the angel–his angel’s eyes.

"I would never recover.”

Cas blinked. “What?”

“If you die, man. I…I wouldn’t recover.”

Castiel sat frozen in place, his hand still next to the empty beer bottle.

“It might not be the end of the world, but it would be the end of my world. Cas, I had to face that today, with the banishing symbol and you have no idea–” Dean was breathless now, trying to say the things he could rarely bring himself to even admit, “I know the angels say we treat you bad. And I–I do and I’m sorry, man, but I can’t lose you. Not again.”

Hanging his head, Dean tried to say the other things, the other, far more secret words. The sort of words that the angels would likely claim corrupted Castiel beyond repair. So he wouldn’t say them. He couldn’t. A silent I love you was all he could give Cas.

But as he struggled, a strange thing happened. The faintest of touches on his hands. Dean looked down, really looked, to see Castiel’s hands hovering over his own. They locked eyes. Castiel let his hands drop firmly atop Dean’s.

“You’re worth falling for, you know.”

I love you too.

Dave: hey babe just posted my latest mix check it out

Karkat, in person, to his face: oh good! thank you dave for this excellent news! if it’s anywhere near as revolting as your smug face right now it’s sure to go down in history as one of the most vile pieces of aural torture ever devised!!!

Karkat, with a botnet he had roxy put together for him for exactly this purpose: *rates everything five stars immediately, leaves thousands of reviews obviously written in a poorly disguised version of his usual online voice, promos it on hundreds of shell blogs, sends roxy furtive texts about how to get it trending on earth c social media as quickly as possible*

Hey kids I wrote a longer version of The Night Yuuri Katsuki Lost His Mind, AKA the College AU

Yuuri jerks awake just after midnight, realizes that he is surrounded by what to the uninitiated observer would look like the detritus of the insane, and quickly gleans from the angle of the ceiling that he is on the floor.

He flings out a hand, looking for his phone. The light of the screen, even set to its lowest level, pulls a violated wail from his throat.

“Oh my GOD,” Phichit says from the sofa. He sits up, flops himself over the edge. The hamsters start squealing at the sound of their father’s voice. “I submitted myself to only getting an hour of sleep but I am getting an HOUR of sleep, Yuuri Katsuki, do you hear me?”

“When does Starbucks open?” Yuuri demands blearily, trying to work up the energy to disconnect his cheek from the carpet. It smells like Timothy hay and despair.

“This is a college town you absolute disaster,” Phichit growls from the depths of the couch cushion he has his face shoved into. “Starbucks never closes.”

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Passionfruit | 3

“To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.”

pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: smut, angst
wordcount: 8.4k

part one | two | three

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“Mama,” Bitty whispers, half asleep. Suzanne hums and continues to gently stroke the hair at his temple away from his eyes. “Mama, please don’t be mad.”

He’s been home for less than twenty-four hours, but hasn’t stopped panicking the entire time. Even now, his head resting on the couch cushion beside where his mother sits, his eyelids fluttering shut in exhaustion while the movie they were pretending to watch drones on before him, even now, he knows better than to let his guard down.

“Mad? Dicky, sweetheart, I could never–”

“Don’t lie to me.” The words are precise and practiced, even as he starts to drift off into sleep.

Suzanne never once pauses or hesitates in her gentle ministrations. The love and care in her fingertips as they slide along Bitty’s forehead, over the shell of his ear, down the bridge of his nose… it never wavers, never suggests anything other than the same familial intimacy they’ve always shared.

“I’m not mad,” she whispers back.

Bitty blinks and notices her eyes furtively darting towards the door to the den, where a baker’s dozen of football enthusiasts are currently monopolizing Coach’s time. 

He pretends not to notice and turns his face to hide his yawn in the back couch cushions.

“I love you more than I can stand, Dicky. I love you to the moon and back and then some. To the very top of the sky–”

“–and to the very bottom of the sea,” Bitty finishes, and smiles tiredly.

Suzanne smiles back. She traces her ring finger lightly across Bitty’s brow. “I’m so sorry we ever gave you reason to doubt us.”

The movie ends and the credits begin. If they had the television tuned into any broadcast network right now, all they would see is Jack’s steady gaze and slightly trembling hands from an interview filmed two weeks prior. The only thing on that screen would be Jack Zimmermann’s brave face along with every damn commentator in the world’s opinions about what it means that the hockey prodigy has a boyfriend.

No one here, save Bitty’s mother, knows who that boyfriend is.

Bitty can feel tears form and threaten to fall, pushing at the edges of his now closed eyes. He wishes he were with Jack right now, but Jack has his own mother whose warm embrace he’s currently in as he and Bitty both hide out for the next week and try not to draw any unnecessary attention.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Bitty responds. There are so many sorry’s between them now, it feels like they’ll never make it out the other end to the easy relationship they had before the words “I’m gay” left Bitty’s mouth this morning.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Sugar.” Suzanne’s hand pauses briefly as she leans down and gently kisses his forehead. 

Bitty sighs and feels himself start to sink into unconsciousness. It’s been one of the longest and most stressful days of his life. He  can’t even imagine what it will be like to tell Coach. 

“You’re safe here, Baby,” his mother soothes. “You will always be safe with me.”

Bitty falls into a fitful sleep, but with a small smile on his face, and his mother’s attentive, gentle hands tucking him in.


A comiXologist recommends…


You can only appreciate Novae if you set a slow pace to your reading. With very little dialogue and an emphasis on emotions conveyed by very small details – a trembling hand, a shining pin on a coat, a furtive look – Kaiju tells us the story of Sulvain and Raziol in Paris 1672. Sulvain, described to us as a world traveler and expert physiologist, comes to the French capital to meet his friend, the astronomer Huygens. The famous scientist is working on new discoveries with the help of his assistant, Raziol Qamar, an eager and enthusiastic apprentice who is immediately intrigued by his patron’s friend.

Kaiju’s art gives the reader the impression of looking at a painting rather than reading a story. This impression is reinforced by the coloring: the first issue is nearly monochrome with its use of grey and blue tones, sometimes illuminated by moments of orange. The light of the candle shines on Razul and Sulvain’s first exchange in Huygens’ library. The harsh day light casts a glaring glow on Razul’s exhausted state after he spent two days working on mathematical calculations for a conference.

Be prepared to be hooked: this first issue gives us few details about the story and will leave you clamoring for more. We can assume that Sulvain and Raziol will grow closer but I’m excited to see how this relationship will develop. If you are looking for a slow-burn historical romance, Novae is the comic for you.

Camille Fabre is an online marketing manager at comiXology.

Vanessa Nadal and Lin Miranda

In the courtyard, where the students hung out on hierarchical red brick steps, Mr. Miranda always sat in the coolest spot. “Lin was in the center, at the top, with his boombox and his cool friends,” said Laura Weidman, a fellow Hunter student. She added: “He’s a dreamer, a ball of energy. Everything is fun and a joke.”

Still, throughout his senior year Mr. Miranda could never manage to talk to Vanessa Adriana Nadal, a Latino sophomore he admired. “She was gorgeous and I’m famously bad at talking to women I find attractive,” said Mr. Miranda, now 30. “I have a total lack of game.”

Ms. Nadal, who lived in Washington Heights, was mathematical, opinionated, a great dancer and independent. She did not sit in any particular spot on the red brick steps. “She was never looking to be popular,” Ms. Weidman said. “She danced her way through the hallways and studied like crazy for exams.” Ms. Nadal went to M.I.T., Mr. Miranda to Wesleyan University.

On Facebook, he learned that Ms. Nadal was working as a scientist at Johnson & Johnson in Skillman, N.J., developing anti-aging products. But more important, she listed hip-hop and salsa as interests. So he sent her an instant message inviting her to his next Freestyle Love Supreme show.

To his surprise, she showed up, and even joined him and several friends afterward for drinks. “It was a huge group so he didn’t talk to me the whole night,” said Ms. Nadal, now 28. “I didn’t think he was interested in me.”

But, he added, “if she’d just paid attention, she would have known from my darting, furtive glances.”

“I was so shy I asked a friend of mine to get her phone number,” he said.

Weeks later, he called and invited her to another show. “When he came onstage, I thought, I really like this guy,” Ms. Nadal recalled. “He was up there free-styling and weaving rhymes together. It’s pretty impressive. He’s really, really smart.”

Again, she went out afterward with Mr. Miranda and a big crowd of his friends, all rappers, artists and break dancers. She wasn’t intimidated or lost in the group, which impressed him. “She knows she’s dope,” he said. “She’s beautiful but not vain. She’s smart but not arrogant. It’s like, all killer, no filler.”

Two months later, at a big crowded party, he didn’t exactly say, “I love you” but almost. “At some point, we met up for a kiss and he said, ‘You love me,’ ” she recalled. “I was like: ‘How presumptuous!’ I was a little angry but I couldn’t deny it.”

Ms. Nadal added: “He gets me in a way that no one else does. I’m a scientist at heart. I try very hard not to let my emotions cloud my judgments and he’ll see through that and see what I’m really feeling.”


anonymous asked:

Made up fic title: Katsukilicious definition

This would be a five+one about all the times Yuuri accidentally seduced someone with his amazing thighs, and then one time that he actually meant  to.

For the record, they are:

1: That time in high school when Takeshi saw Yuuri doing squats and was flung into a bisexual crisis that lasted for a full five minutes as he just stood there, slack-jawed, until Yuuko slid by and whispered I know right into his ear, and he was abruptly reminded why Yuuko was the love of his life.

2: Phichit sees Yuuri hanging effortlessly off the pullup bar by his legs and has to consider whether or not he really wants to complicate everything by banging his roommate. (They do eventually bang–no hard feelings are had. Phichit is aro as hell and Yuuri only has eyes for Viktor Nikiforov)

3: The banquet. Enough said.

4: Viktor drops in on Yuuri in practice with Minako and has to actually go lie down afterwards because Yuuri was wearing tights. Yuuri was wearing tights and looking at him with those doe eyes and wearing a soft heather gray shirt and he looked so firm and soft at the same time and all Viktor wants in this unfair, unforgiving world is to wrap Yuuri Katsuki in his arms and only let go to put his head between Yuuri’s legs and–

5: The five male GPF finalists who aren’t Yuuri sitting in the locker room after Yuuri has left, staring furtively at each other and waiting, waiting for someone to say it.
“Are we going to talk about Katsuki’s thighs, though?” JJ asks, because it was always going to be JJ. “Like, are we?”
Everyone sighs.
“I could have made a move, you know,” Chris says. “I had the chance. I didn’t, because I didn’t think he was the sort. Apparently all I had to do was choreograph him a program accompanied by sexy violins.”
“And be Viktor Nikiforov,” Phichit snorts. 
“I’m dying,” Yuri P whispers into his jacket hood.
“Aren’t you, like, eleven?” asks JJ. “Should we be having this conversation with you?”
“I’m fifteen, you utter waste of air,” Yuri snaps.
Otabek is silent for the whole conversation, but the glint in his eyes says he’s listening very, very closely.

+1: Yuuri gives Viktor a lapdance for their first anniversary. Viktor almost expires on the spot.