i like how he turned out either way


Part 7

Part 7 of my modern Feysand AU. I’m sorry I promised a teaser for this one but  I wrote this all today because I have had 0 time lately. But TA DA part 7. 

To all of those who have responded to this little thing of mine, thank you all so much for the support! 

I also have more fics and what not on the way, not just the next part to this so stay tuned!

Feedback is always welcome on this so don’t be shy!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9.

Word Count: 2,569


I’m not sure how long we kissed. It could have been 3 minutes, it could have been 3 hours. Either way I didn’t care.

Rhys kept his arm around me as we walk to the car, and again helps me into his Jeep because of my heels.

After he climbs into the driver’s seat he turns to me. “Soooo,” he drew out the word like he was trying to think of how to compose his words. “Do you want to go back to my place? I know that sounds a little weird but I wouldn’t condemn you to go back to your apartment with Mor and Az there. Trust me, I know they aren’t… quiet.”

A laugh rips from my lips. “Oh trust me, I’m aware. And yeah, that sounds good. I do not want to step foot in that apartment until I know they’re done.”

Rhysand’s laugh makes me smile as he throws the car into drive and blasts the heat.


I had been to the boys’ house before. It was large with 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, and a finished basement. It was only one floor, but Cassian took part of the basement as his bedroom so there was more space upstairs. The large kitchen and living room were separated by a wall that they had cup down partially to make it a bar.

I had been to their house before, but since Rhys moved in they changed a few things. Their mismatched couches were traded out for a nice leather on that wrapped around the mounted TV. They had a china set that matched now, and the place looked significantly cleaner.

For some odd reason I can’t help but picture Rhys in a yellow apron and pink gloves scrubbing the floor, folding laundry, and vacuuming.

Rhys had disappeared to his bedroom to change, leaving me on the couch to pick out a movie for us to watch. I glance down the hall where his bedroom was across from Azriel’s. I can’t help but think of his toned chest, the feel of his muscles under my touch flooding my memory.

When I hear the door open my attention snaps back to the tv and I go back to flipping through the list of movies.

Rhys is as stealthy as a fox, I didn’t even hear his footsteps on the wood floor. I jump when his body falls onto the couch beside me.

“Jesus, I need to get you a bell or something,” I mutter, causing his face to split into a grin.

He had changed into basketball shorts and a tshirt. He holds out his hands, a pile of folded clothes resting on them.

“So you don’t have to wear that dress, but also because I love seeing you in my clothes.”

I swat at his chest with my hand, but take the clothes gratefully, heading to the bathroom.


He had given me a pair of his sweats and one of his sweatshirts, the sweats were black and the sweatshirt a deep purple that probably made his eyes pop. I am swimming in both of them, and I have to tie the sweats around my waist so they don’t fall off. They were made from the same soft cotton as his shirts.

And my god, the smell of him surrounded me, making my heart thunder in my chest. I scoop my hair back into a bun. I realize then that the collar of the sweatshirt hung very loosely on my throat, my collarbone sticking out.

It was better than being stuck in a dress all night, that’s for sure. I step out into the hall, my dress draped over my arm as I head back into the living room.

“Feyre darling, I hope you realize that since you didn’t—” His voice abruptly cut off when he sees me.

I feel the blush creep onto my cheeks. “What?”

He smiles at me, “Nothing, you’re just beautiful.”

I roll my eyes, unable to stop the tug of my lips. He was a hopeless flirt, utterly hopeless. And it was cheesy but absolutely adorable.

I lay the dress over the bar to keep it from getting wrinkled and then come back to the couch.

Rhysand’s arm is immediately over my shoulder, tugging me against him.

“Where’s Cass at?” I ask softly. He’s still flipping through the movies.

“Probably out with Nesta. It’s too late for him to be at the gym, so he’s probably with her.”

I nod slightly, looking over at him. The white light from the tv cast a glow onto his skin; the sharp angles of his face were more defined with the shadows that now caressed them.

My fingers have a mind of their own as I extend them towards his face and run them over the soft skin of his cheek. His eyes flicker to me. Rhys angles his body towards me, leaning into my touch. It was unfair how freaking beautiful he was, how cleaver and smart he was. The man should have to pick between the two.

“Do you really want to watch a movie Feyre?” he breathes the question. The heat of his breath tickles my cheek. Fuck we are close.

A slight shake of my head has his moving closer to me, closer, closer, closer. His lips brush mine. Tickle is a better word because I press my lips together and giggle.

His face beams with a mischievous smirk. “Are you ticklish, Feyre darling?”

I gape at him.

Oh hell no

My silence is enough of an answer for him, that and probably the look of horror I have on my face.

He moves quickly, too quickly, for me to try and escape his grasp. I feel his hands against my side, fingers tickling my skin through the flood of fabric. I try to swipe at him, laughter bubbling through me uncontrollably.

“Prick!” I bark at him, only making it easier for him to advance on me. It’s not hard for him to pin me against the couch, the weight of his body holding me down as his hands ravage my sides. Tears spring to my eyes from laughing so hard.

I try to push him off, the bastard showing no mercy to me.

I knew that his intensions were playful, but if it were anyone but Rhys I probably would have had a panic attack by now. I had Tamlin to thank for that. But I knew deep within me that Rhysand would never do anything to hurt me.

One of my hands was pinned between my hip and his knee so I throw my other fist at him, it bouncing against his chest. Then I do the only thing that I know would stop him for sure. My finger wrap around the back of his neck and I pull him down to me, my lips clashing with his in a desperate attempt to make him stop.

It works.

Just like that, with the feel of his lips against mine, I want him.

His hands slacken on my sides, and they move to grip my hips rather than assault me with tickles. I feel Rhysand lower his body to mine. I can feel his chest press against mine, his hips fitting against my own as he moves his knees between my legs.

Quickly I move my other hand through his hair. I feel his tongue against my lower lip, an unspoken question of consent. I part my lips and his tongue sweeps in to dance with my own.

I realize then that I would never tire of kissing him. The softness of his lips, the feel of his hands on my skin. I could not and would never get enough.

A soft gasp escapes my lips he pulls his lips away and drags them against my jaw, his breath is hot against my skin. I tilt my head slight, guiding his kisses down the column of my throat.

“Rhysand,” his name escapes my lips as a moan.

And to think not even a few minutes ago he ambushed me. Maybe it was to end up precisely in this situation.

Did I care? Absolutely not.

Just when his lips grace the skin—the very sensitive spot—above my collarbone, the heat of his lips leave me. I open my eyes to find him staring at me, his violet eyes drinking in the sight of me pinned beneath him. There was something behind them, something predatory. I could tell he was trying to slam the door on the cage that kept that thing locked up. But damn, I want that exact beast to have free reign to devour me.

I open my mouth to speak, but Rhys presses a calloused finger to my lips, silencing me momentarily.

“Feyre…hold on to whatever you are going to say. I want you to know that I find you very attractive; and even though we have only been on this one date, I feel something for you. It’s stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like part of me is screaming at the other parts to just…I don’t know exactly what it’s asking but I don’t want this to go any further without you knowing that. But we should wait, for both of us. I have an idea of what you went through and I don’t want to be the guy who forces you into something after that. That I—”

My fingers curl in the back of his hair and then pull him down against my lips. I knew what he was trying to say, that if we did this it wouldn’t just be a hookup. My heart ached for the man above me, because he was right. Even though this was only our first date I felt something. A good something that made my blood sing in my veins. Whatever it is that Rhys was feeling for me I felt it for him too.

I pull away from the kiss, Rhys looked stunned. It is a very pleasing sight to see him blushing like that.

“I know, thank you,” I breathe. I wanted so badly for him to carry me off to his room, or hell even just take me right there on the couch. But both of us knew we weren’t ready for that. We would wait for each other because it was better to base a relationship off of a friendship than sex. I knew that all too well. I push down all of the reactions and all the things my body wants and focus on what my heart needs instead.

I peck him on the lips one more time before slowly climbs off of me. We settle back into a semi-awkward silence as he picks a random movie and throws it on. I didn’t care what it was and it didn’t matter. I leaned against his shoulder and am asleep before the opening titles scroll across the screen.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”


“You bitch!”

Tamlin’s harsh voice echoes through my head.

“After all I did for you. After everything, you still decide to whore around with some other guy.”

I can’t move from where my feet were planted on the ground. I still had on the dress that I had worn with Rhysand tonight.

“You’re mine, do you hear me?” His voice has risen to a loud growl. I can’t move as he stalks towards me. I can’t do anything as he grabs my hair hard enough to hurt, and crushes his lips to mine. His tongue forces his way into my mouth. And I can’t move. I can’t fight him as he forces me back against a wall and pins my arms there, bruising my wrists.

No. No. I don’t want this, not anymore. But I can’t move.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

Tamlin forces his way down my neck, violating me with the kisses that I no longer want.

“You are mine.”

I was not his. I am no one’s. I am my own person.

Mustering up my strength I push him off of me. But I can’t turn, I can’t run. My legs are glued to spot where he had pushed me.

“You little whore.”

I watch helplessly as his hand rises, swings, and connects with my cheek.


Tears slide down my face. I can still feel the sting against my skin where Tamlin had hit me.

Hands where gripping my shoulders, shaking me awake.


The sound of Rhysand’s voice bounces off my ears.

My eyes snap open only to meet the worry that laces Rhys’s violet ones.

I was in a bed, a big bed, and my head was resting on a pillow that was wet with my tears. Rhysand was hovering over me, his hands braced on my shoulders. Milky morning light makes it look like there is a halo around his head.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers to me.

My mouth feels like it has been stuffed with cotton. When I open my mouth to talk all that comes out is a sob. Through my tears I watch as I Rhys gathers me into his arms and pulls me against his bare chest.

All of it spills out through my sobs. My relationship with Tamlin, how I thought everything was fine. How I didn’t know he was as heavy as a drinker as I thought he was. How he had started to mentally abuse me. Mor had confronted me about it when I had started to lose weight. I told her it was nothing, that I was fine. And then one night, I went over to his place not knowing he was drinking. He had accused me of many things that night. And when I told him I would leave him, he had turned—eyes blazing—and smacked me. It was hard enough to leave a bruise on my cheek. He tried profusely to apologize to me. He kept saying that he was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. I couldn’t be with someone who hit me, I never ever could. I ended it right then and there. When I went home to Mo, she was so mad she went and kicked the shit out of Tamlin, and was my rock while I was healing.

I can’t help the fact that he still filtered into my nightmares. I can’t help the fact that some part of me still loved the part of him that I thought was good. And I defiantly can’t help the fact that I feel like I have made a mistake by loving him.

Rhysand sits through my story, a hard mask over his face as I spill the truth of what happened to me. At the end, when I finally stop shuttering and blubbering about how much I had messed up he does something I don’t expect.

He leans down and kisses away the remaining tears that streak my cheeks.

“I would never do anything to hurt you, Feyre. I would rather turn a gun on myself than point it at you. And I promise you that I will protect you from people like that from today until my last day, okay?”

A slight nod is all I can manage.

“And if I ever see this Tamlin fellow, I’ll put him in the hospital.”

His morbid promise makes me feel a bit better about the whole situation.

Flirting Endeavors || Newt Scamander x Reader

Request: Could you possibly make some headcanons for newt when you’re trying to flirt with him? Like would he get hot and bothered or be really shy and introverted? ;) ty

((So for this one there will be more than one stories for the reactions!! Because I feel he could totally go either way with how comfortable they are))


Headcanon 1:

You were sitting with Newt after spending some time with his beasts. The two of you had been dating for a few months, so you turned to him with a small smirk.
“Why hello there handsome.” You purred out, his face immediately turning a bright red when you said that.
“O-oh.. hello Y-Y/N” he stuttered, looking at you in surprise.
“You’re looking very good tonight.” You spoke, moving closer to him and lightly touching his arm.
“Y-you are looking rather l-lovely too.. but w-what are you d-doing?” He questioned, tending up at your touch.
“Well I’m flirting with you silly” you giggled, your seductive acting turning off while smiling at how cute and innocent he was.
“O-oh.. it was i-interesting.” He answered, smiling softly when you started to giggle.

Headcanon 2:

This time you were together at dinner, enjoying each other’s company throughout the date. You reached over to brush your hand on his cheek, making his cheeks go pink.
“You are looking rather fine tonight dearie, how about we take this date back home.” You said with a small wink, making his face flush again. You knew he was more confident with your flirting, but he still got flustered at it all.
“I.. I do like the sound of that love..” he answered, looking into your eyes, his own twinkling happily towards you.
“Well then lets go! I can’t wait to get you out of those clothes.” Your smirk got a tad bigger as you saw him blush a deep red and fair to say anything.
“L-lead the way Y/N.. I c-can’t wait to get you out of yours either..” at his words you blushed a light pink and giggled, leaning over to kiss him lightly.

Headcanon 3:

You and Newt had been together for more than a year, and were enjoying a night at home. As you both sat upon the couch reading different things, but still holding each other’s hands, you thought of an idea.
“Hey honey, how about.. we go to the bedroom, and you can run your eyes over something else.” You whispered into his ear, smirking at him. He turned towards you, his face a light pink before answering.
“I absolutely love that idea, because right now you look good enough to eat.” His own smirk appeared as you blushed at him flirting back, not exactly expecting it. He moved closer to you and pinned you back on the couch, kissing you deeply.
“Although I have to say, why do we have to move to the bedroom when the couch is just as nice.” Newt smiled as it was now your turn to be the one blushing at his flirting.


The truth is we both did a movie. I did a movie called “Friends with Benefits”, he did a movie called “No Strings Attached” and if we would’ve just paid attention to how those movies turned out, we would know that we can’t get into a relationship this way and yet we did exactly as both those movies foretold. Like we literally shook hands, we were like “We’re gonna have fun, ‘cause we’re both single and young.”. Three months later we’re living together, six months later we’re like married and have a kid. Like literally we clearly didn’t watch the end of either one of our movies. (x)

anonymous asked:

Can you make more WidowTracer? Something like, stargazing at a park or somewhere else? Something romantic, I guess.

Gosh, I don’t know if widow is capable of being romantic. Hmm. Let’s go with that.

She’s incapable of romanticisms. It’s not part of her training, not part of the conditioning.

Perhaps, it’s not really part of her, either. Gérard, before he’d passed – before she’d killed him – would always go out of his way to show his love. Show his appreciation for her.

Amélie never did the same. If she ever had the ability, she never gave it to Widow.

But, that’s not to say Amélie didn’t love him. She did, in her own way.

Widow doesn’t regret killing him. She doesn’t feel much, actually. Sometimes, Amélie resurfaces, bringing up things she’d rather not feel, but that never lasts long.

The poor woman is no match for Widow.

Though, she doesn’t always have to be.

She’s sneaky, but not in the way that Widow is. She doesn’t lurk, creeping in dark corners, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

No, she finds weaknesses and exploits them, forcing her way into the forefront of Widow’s mind. She never takes control – is never fast enough – but it’s enough to leave a tiny thought; a tiny trail of a tiny emotion that Widow just can’t seem to quash.

It makes her want to smile.

It makes her want to try.

It makes her want to feel.

She’s leaning against a chimney, eyes closed and Widow’s Kiss next to her, when a familiar fwwwp sounds nearby.

She doesn’t move – doesn’t even open her eyes. Knows enough to know the stranger won’t attack on sight.

Dieu, all these “heroes” are the same, and Lena Oxton is no exception.

And yet, she can’t help but be drawn to her. She is different, though Widow doesn’t quite understand why, yet.

She opens her eyes to see two energy pistols levelled at her.

“A’right, luv. Easy now. No quick movements.”

“Bonsoir, chérie. The stars are beautiful tonight, no?”

Her eyes lift to the sky, but not before taking in a bemused expression. Even with the light, polluting the air above them, the moon was still full and bright; it cast an ethereal glow, matched only by the strange device on Lena’s chest.

Lena. It’s a nice name, Widow muses.

A small – very small – part of her wonders briefly what it would be like to be Amélie again.

“What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” Lena – no, her counterpart. Tracer – wonders. She hasn’t lowered the pistols yet. Widow gives her a look.

“Stargazing,” she says.

“Okay. What’re you doin’ stargazing on my roof?”

Widow doesn’t have an answer for that one. Not an answer Lena would accept.

Not an answer she would accept. 

When she says nothing but, “Would you like to join me, chérie?”, it’s as close to an admission she’ll give.

Finally, Lena lowers her pistols. She’s still wary – and a darker part of Widow smiles at that; she should be scared – and yet she still moves forward.

Throws the guns next to Widow’s rifle and jumps up onto the chimney behind her.

“No funny business, a’right luv?” she says.

This time, Widowmaker smiles in earnest. “Non, ma chère. No funny business.”

There are cracks in her defences, in her training. Cracks that Amélie would exploit and expose.

But not tonight. Tonight, it’s just Widow and Lena.

Perhaps that’s all she needs anyway.

They stay there until the sky pinkens with the rising sun, enshrouding the stars with light. 

It takes away the peace.

When the first sliver of gold peeks over the horizon, Widow moves away, picking up her rifle. Lena doesn’t move. Just looks.

“Adieu, chérie,” Widow says, a stark parallel to their first meeting. No laughter follows this time. No pain or guilt.

Lena watches as she swings away, over rooftops and out of site, and she knows it won’t be the last time.

Prays it won’t be the last time.

You know what you have to do right?” She purrs, smoke drifting from her curved lips. “You have to choose right now. You can either continue to fuck up any chance of happiness that comes your way and complain when things don’t work,” she levels me with a hard stare and smirks. “Or let it go. And realise that not everyone is going to treat you how he did, try to hope this one could be different and that I won’t have to pour you a drink if he turns out to be like the others.
—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write // advice from my alter ego

miss-phasma-vanbowie  asked:

Can you please write me a short Phaslo fantasy where Kylo discovers that Phasma's part mermaid? Like he hears her singing in the bath and sees the tail?

Oh boy! I am not sure at all that this turned out in a way that either of us expected it, but, I firmly believe in going where the story leads. It’s long-ish, and as I’m always on mobile, I don’t know how to throw in a Read More. If anyone knows how to help my technologically lacking self, I would greatly appreciate it.

I hope you like it! Thanks for this amazing prompt and for breaking me out of my comfort zone. 💜

The dream was happening again…deep green all around, shafts of sunlight like curtains fluttering in the deep. And that voice, all encompassing, hypnotizing, penetrating. Like a choir of blessed children. Kylo wakes in the pre-dawn greyness, rubbing his eyes, hitting the alarm clock with a fumbling hand. When the piercing alarm stops he sits up, raking thick fingers through bed messy hair and sighs. How many times had he had that same dream now? Six, seven? Unusual, certainly. Kylo couldn’t remember a time when he remembered any of his dreams, let alone having recurring dreams. Swinging his long legs over the sagging side of the narrow bed, he places bare feet on the floor, rising up and out of bed to get ready for the day.

This morning is cold, the kind of cold that numbs you to your bones, freezing the mucus in your nose and making you cough with the first breath you take outside. He pads around the small apartment, the worn wood floor numbing his large feet as he pulls on the clothes that will hopefully keep him warm for the rest of his long day. At sea the wind will be more biting so layers are important. Base layer, fitting close to the skin, thermals, then thick, flannel lined jeans, topping this with a scratchy wool sweater. Pulling sturdy wool socks onto his feet he presses the adhesive backing of packaged foot warmers against the bottom of his feet then shoves them into thick soled, salt encrusted boots. By now the coffee will be ready, the timer set the night before. Kylo heads to the kitchen and, pulling the steaming pot from its cradle in the machine, pours the liquid energy into a steel thermos. Grabbing the large cooler full of sustenance for the day, Kylo leaves the apartment, heading down the sidewalk and down to the marina where his boat is docked.

Everyday he makes this walk, the salt wind hitting his face, blowing his hair beneath the wool beanie he wears, he thinks. Thinks about her face, the planes of her warm body pressed against his while they lay in bed together. The press of her lips, the smell of her hair. The pang in his chest reminds him that he is alive, regardless of what his mind would like to believe. That’s why he runs these memories over and over and over in his thoughts, so he can feel something, even if it hurts. It’s better than the numbing, biting cold that has filled his soul since the accident. Since coincidence and circumstance ripped her away from him forever. Sighing he hitches his pack higher up onto his shoulder and steps onto the rocking dock that runs alongside his boat. Stepping onto the deck he stares at the sky. The cloud cover is thick today, and deep deep grey, despite the rising of the sun. This, the wind and the sharp chop of the sea indicates a storm may be at hand. Better check the weather on the radio.

Sliding open the door of the Captain’s cabin with a rusty squeal, Kylo twists the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. Flipping and twisting switches and knobs, he gets the heat going and turns on the radio to listen to the weather report. It doesn’t bode well for an entire day of fishing, but maybe if he gets in a few hours he can make up the portion of his rent he’s missing. Once everything is relatively warm he steps out and unties the rope that hitches the boat to the dock. A gentle push on the throttle and the boat pulls away, heading out to sea.

Chugging along, Kylo sips on black coffee from his thermos, mindlessly chewing an egg sandwich from his cooler. His thoughts turn to the dream again, that haunting, lilting voice. He wonders if it’s her, calling to him from wherever she is now. It wouldn’t be the first time that joining her crossed his mind. All he’d need to do is jump off the side of the boat, close his eyes, let his heavy boots carry him into the darkness. But somehow he keeps going. She wouldn’t want him to come to her that way. Inhaling sharply, willing the tears that prick his eyes back, he scans the horizon for where he’ll drop anchor for a while, casting his net and hoping for something to come into it, something he can sell at market. His fish finder has broken and with the money gone he has been unable to fix it or get a new one. Relying on instinct isn’t getting him anywhere, but he has been able to somehow make ends meet. It’s just him anyway, one lone man. He doesn’t need much to keep him going.

Settling in a spot, Kylo pulls on gloves and a balaclava to protect his face from the sharp needle of the wind. He lowers the anchor down and steps out onto the deck, making sure to slide the cabin door closed to keep in the heat as he decides where to cast his nets. Along the port side today seems right. After the cast he circles the deck, checking knots, making sure pumps and pulleys are in good working order. On a warm day he’ll oil everything, retie knots, just general maintenance. Lately it’s been too cold to stay outside for too long to take care of these things. Making his way belowdecks he does what he can before heading back up to the Captain’s cabin to sit and wait, contemplating the horizon before it’s time to pull back the nets and head in. He’ll have to keep a close eye on the weather today to make sure he gets back to shore before the storm settles in.

Sitting on the chair in the warm cabin, Kylo, despite his better judgement, nods off to sleep, lulled by the rocking of the boat. His hardened face softens in his sleep, full lips relaxed as his chin meets his chest. The hand wrapped around his coffee cup relaxes and lets go, spilling the brown fluid in a stream against the painted floor. His mind, relaxed finally, echoes with the song that has been haunting his dreams. Time passes until suddenly he is awakened with a jolt. The sea has gotten much more rough with the oncoming storm and Kylo’s small boat is tossed amongst the waves. He gets up, frantically yanking open the door and turning on the winch to reel in the nets. Stupid, he thinks, to have fallen asleep. How long was he out? His brain is fuzzy around the edges with sleep as he taps his foot, waiting for the nets to come back in. He’ll have to put the engine into overdrive to get back to shore now. He shakes his head, disappointed in himself.

The boat rocks and dips, causing Kylo’s stomach to lurch despite his long months spent at sea. Nearly losing his balance, he makes his way to the edge of the port side to see how much he’s got before the net is fully reeled in. It’s nearly there, he can almost make out the shape of it below the surface of the sea. Finally it surfaces, only a few fish jumping and starting within its grasp. He pulls it onto the deck, empties the fish into the well and raises the anchor, nearly running as he stumbles back to the cabin to turn tail and get home before the sea gets much worse.

The sky roils as the sea sways, tossing Kylo’s small boat side to side and up and down as he cranks the wheel, seeking to gain some sort of purchase in the churning sea. Waves crash against the sides as briny water washes over the sides of the deck, salty foam swirling over the wood boards. Kylo’s heart hammers in his chest as adrenaline burns its way through his veins, sharpening his vision and making his reflexes lighting fast. Despite his best efforts it seems as if at any moment the sea will overtake him. Fear rises up in his throat when he finally sights land along the horizon. Relief washes over him and he relaxes for a brief moment. It’s a moment too long as an enormous wave washes over the boat, knocking Kylo off balance. As he falls back, arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance his head strikes the thick plank of wood that the broken fish finder is bolted to. Everything goes black and he falls like a tree, hard and fast to the floor, legs splayed wide.

Soft swaying stalks within the green, the song…calling to him, ringing in his ears, bringing a smile to his long frowning mouth. Kylo moans in his unconscious daze, fingers feeling for warmth, something to hold onto. He’s been so lost…

The sun is shining through the grimed windows of the cabin as Kylo’s eyes flutter open. A cracking sensation fills his head as his hand goes to the back of his skull, rubbing the hard knot there, fingers feeling through his black hair, pressing the edges, checking for blood. His eyebrows come together in concern as he inspects his fingers, and, seeing no blood there, rises to his feet, holding his aching head in his hands. The boat is just about at the dock, rocking softly in the wake of the storm. Kylo scans the deck for damage and, surprisingly finds none. He guides it into the dock and jumps off, securing the knots that keep it in place. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a bare arm sticking out of the small stairway that leads below decks. Alarmed, he turns, rushing towards the outstretched arm that is attached to a naked female, unconscious and draped on the stairs. A very tall female, with thick blonde hair that falls in drying waves to her waist. Kylo places his hand on her shoulder gently and shakes, attempting to wake her.

“Hello, miss?” Kylo says, his voice shaking. The sun is piercing, hurting his aching head. He clears his throat and taps her again. With an unsteady hand his fingers move to her throat, inexpertly checking for a pulse. It’s there, strong, her life’s blood flowing beneath his fingers with every beat. Shrugging he pulls a wool blanket from the emergency pack and, wrapping it around her, hoists her long, chilled body over his shoulder. Darting his eyes from side to side, he makes his way back to his apartment, the dead weight of the blonde woman’s body making no difference to Kylo’s strong, sturdy frame.

He enters the apartment and flicks on the light, hastily making his way to the living room where he gently lowers the woman onto the couch. Lord, but she is tall, nearly as tall as Kylo himself, and his height, though not abnormal, is a rarity. Her pale skin is cold and he rushes into the bedroom, pulling out blanket after blanket to pile on top of her. Wrapping her snugly he heads to the kitchen and puts on the kettle, pulling a big mug down from the shelf and placing two tea bags within. Fumbling though his sparse cupboards he grabs soup cans, a variety, and places them on the counter. He’s not quite sure why he brought this woman home instead of calling an ambulance, but something told him not to, and Kylo was always one to follow his gut.

He goes back into the living room to check on her and, sliding his hand beneath the blanket feels her skin. It’s warming and her face is turning a healthier shade. The pink is coming back to her lips and as he watches her breathing, her eyes flutter, thick blonde lashes opening wide to reveal eyes the color of the sea during a calm summer day. A pink flush colors her cheeks and she blinks, her brow furrowing with confusion. “It’s you.” She says, her voice ringing like the soft tolling of a bell.

Kylo pulls back as if burned at her words. “What did you say?” he asks, the shock in his voice coming through, making it waiver with uncertainty. The blonde woman smiles and she stretches, languidly, as if he didn’t just pull her naked and near frozen from his boat.

“I said it’s you. I’m surprised to see you is all.” Her voice is clipped, almost British sounding, at least to his ear. Kylo steps back, almost frightened. “Let me get you some warm clothes,” he says nervously, dashing towards the bedrooms. Fumbling through the closet he finds some warm pajama pants and a sweatshirt that looks like it will fit her. Grabbing a ball of wool socks from a drawer he returns to the living room to find her standing, a blanket wrapped around her elegantly, like a ball gown. He coughs nervously, announcing his return and she turns, gracefully, long hair flowing behind her.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the clothing from him. Her long arms sway like a ballerina’s as she points to the closed bathroom door. “Is that your…” she pauses, searching for the right term, “bathing room?” She tosses her head back towards him, waiting for his response. Kylo stumbles over his words, swallowing hard.

“Yes,” he chokes finally. “Would you like to take a shower? Warm up?” He rakes his hair back, knocking the beanie off of his head and it falls to the floor, forgotten as he stares agog at the tall beauty before him. She smiles and nods as he leads her to the room, opening the door for her as she floats past him, smiling that enigmatic smile and closing the door behind her. Kylo falls heavily onto the couch, his thoughts whirling as he tries to piece together what happened after he fell unconscious. Broken images and ghosts of memories circle though his mind. From the bathroom he can hear the tub filling, the water rushing into the cast iron. Fortunately this apartment is old and has a huge old tub, left from some time before when this was a grand old seaside home instead of sad, lonely apartments divided by paper thin walls.

Closing his eyes, his thick fingers rubbing his aching temples, Kylo inhales deeply, and exhales, stress leaving his body as a sound reaches his ears, making him stand at attention, rising to his full height. The singing…the haunting, lilting voice from his dreams is coming from his bathroom. Without a thought he closes the distance with three long strides and bursts through the door, finding the woman he’s brought here lounging in the tub, steam rising to the ceiling. She is washing her long hair and singing as she does so. His eyes open wide as his mouth drops open, taking in the sight of her smiling and singing in the tub. Clutching his broad chest in shock, he settles on the impossible, a long, shining silver tail reaching out of the water, broad fins flopping over the sides.

“You’re a…” he gasps, his mouth trying to form the word but it refuses to come out.

“A mermaid?” The woman says, finishing his sentence for him. “Yes, I guess that’s what you humans would call me,” She smiles enticingly. A long arm reaches out and she beckons Kylo towards her. As if moving in a dream he responds, his long legs moving towards the tub. Dunking her head under the water, tail coming further out of the tub, flashing in the light of the dirty bulb, she rinses her hair and rises up. “My name is Phasma, Kylo. And I’ve had my eye on you for a long time.”

Kylo falls to his knees, confused, frightened, but drawn to her side. “What do you mean?” he whispers, his shoulders slumping forward as he comes to rest by the edge of the tub. She brushes his hair from his eyes with long fingers, curling it back around his ear.

“Your sadness, Kylo. It calls to me. That lonely, empty keening of your heart. When you’re at sea…it beckons to me. I’ve been trying to respond, but you seem…unreachable. Until today, that is. Your life was in danger, so I saved you.” Phasma arches her long neck back and that voice comes peeling out of her throat again, making Kylo’s heart beat with a longing he didn’t know he could feel anymore.

“Is that you in my dreams?” He asks softly, cautiously. He almost doesn’t want it hear the response.

Phasma nods, her lips curling into a sweet and beautiful smile. “It is,” she answers. Sitting up, her full breasts rising from the steaming bath she reaches for him, wrapping her arms around his thick torso and pulling him in for a long, passionate kiss. Kylo gives in, though his head is swimming with confusion.

Hours later and they are laying in bed together. Phasma’s skin has dried and her scales and fins have receded, leaving behind long, human legs. At this time she has these legs wrapped around Kylo’s waist as he pumps into her, breathlessly hanging over her. All the while, that calm, beautiful smile dances upon her lips. Kylo’s black hair, damp with perspiration hangs over his forehead. He can’t even form thoughts at this point, his life has taken such a sudden and strange turn. This gorgeous woman in his bed who, only a little while ago was a gorgeous mermaid in his tub. The storm, the knock on his head…it’s all so odd and so strange. Her voice comes climbing out of her as her cunt clenches down on his cock, languidly, smoothly singing in her climax. A few more thrusts and Kylo groans, falling beside her, his strong arm wrapped around her flat stomach, pulling her close to him in his narrow, lonely bed. As if in a dream he nuzzles close, sleep already overcoming his exhausted body. “How long can you stay?” He murmurs into her bare shoulder. “Not much longer, my love. Soon it will be time for both of us to go.” She says in response, curling into him.

It is days later and the police pry the door open. No one has seen the fisherman in days, which is unusual, especially when his boat has been washed up on the shore since after the storm that blew through. He’s usually so fastidious, though quiet and keeps to himself. The first thing they notice is wet footprints leading from the bedroom to the door they’ve just entered into. Large, bare prints. They seem fresh, as if someone just walked across the floor after leaving the tub. The head officer puts up one finger, warning his team to be quiet, be wary and to follow his lead. They nod in response and tip toe behind him, careful not to trudge through the footprints, lest they damage evidence. Creeping along, they examine the bathroom. It is full of steam and the large, claw foot tub is wet as if it has just been drained. Taking great care they tip toe down the hall to the single bedroom. The door stands ajar and they call out, “Kylo Ren? Are you in there? This is the police. There has been some concern for you, sir.” No response. Pushing the door open slowly, the lead officer enters the bedroom and, finding what they are looking for, orders his men to stand down.

There, in the bed, is the fisherman. By the looks of it, he’s been dead for a few days, his pale skin turning blue with the chill in the room. Those wet footprints are here as well, although when the medical examiner finally comes and examines the dead man, he’ll find a large knot at the back of his head and signs of a severe concussion. The death will be ruled accidental, and they’ll shake their heads. Should have gone to the hospital, they’ll say. That was quite a knock to the head. But no one will be able to explain the steamy bathroom, the footprints that, when examined by the forensics team will be determined to have belonged to a woman, a very tall woman. Even though the whole town knew that the fisherman’s wife died long ago, and that’s why he moved here, to escape his past.

And the smile on the fisherman’s lips…the sense of peace and calm about the body. They’ll haunt the medical examiner until his last days, the lonely smiling fisherman. Did he see his wife finally, at the end? Or was it something else? Something as unexplainable as those wet footprints leading out of the house.

one thing i find interesting about All Might and Endeavor’s relationship is that…. All Might seems completely oblivious to Endeavor’s burning hatred of him.

like, All Might even goes and asks Endeavor for some tips on raising the next generation of heroes because, well, Endeavor’s got a kid, right? And Todoroki turned out pretty great, so maybe Endeavor has some tips he’d like to share. and he needs help with this whole raising a kid/being a teacher thing.

he has no idea.

All Might seems surprised by the amount of animosity that Endeavor is expressing, and how he’s talking about Todoroki here.

he just. has absolutely no clue. and it’s not that i think All Might is being willfully ignorant  either, he’s just… the last time he saw Endeavor was 10 years ago.  there’s no way he could’ve known about Todoroki’s situation at home. and All Might is the Symbol of Peace, so of course he’s probably been traveling all over to help people. 

it seems fascinating to me that All Might has no idea whatsoever about Endeavor’s burning hatred towards him, nor the lengths he’s willing to go to fulfill that (one-sided) rivalry 

All Might has moments of obliviousness, but this is like… the biggest example i can think of

idk. it’s just something i think about sometimes

Give the Devil His Due
Rating : Mature
Pairing : Reader x Victor Zsasz
Chapter : 2/?

“Somehow I doubt you broke into my apartment to play with my cat.”

His lips quirked as if you’d said something very amusing and you realized too late just how that statement could be misconstrued.

Keep reading

Episode 62, part 2, I lied about the death and dismemberment. Blame Yugi.

So the duel is over, Yami has won, and that means…

Yami’s settling in to watch Pandora get brutally dismembered. He makes absolutely no move to help him in any way. Which is obviously wrong, but on the other hand, I would be pretty inclined not to try to assist the dangerously violent man who tried to kill me be hoist on his own petard either.

Pandora’s justifiably freaking out…

but it turns out to just be #acting

Lol wat.

Okay so, this saw moves REALLY SLOWLY. Bear in mind, Yami won, then they had a full “how could I lose?!” “you treated your cards with disrespect!” argument, then Pandora acted all scared, now he’s casually taking the key out. I kinda feel like, the speed the saws had been moving at, he would have been nicely diced up by this time.

Then Malik gets involved…

Poor leadership skills here. It stifles creativity in your workplace when people are scared to fail in case they get brutally hacked to pieces and left to bleed to death in a basement. #businessskillz

Malik just casually erases the key from Pandora’s perception of the world. 

I find it amusing that he’s shouting full sentences instead of like “WHAT THE FUCK” or something.

This seems like a super useful ability that Malik does not make enough use of. I mean, just off the top of my head, his life would be a lot simpler if Kaiba and Ishizu forgot Obilisk existed?

Then Yami releases himself, while Pandora is freaking the fuck out…

This is his “I’m content to watch this murder without intervening” face.

But this is the point at which the others arrive outside the door, and Yami hears them.


Yami switches with Yugi, and I’m legit not sure if that’s Yami noping out of control (either “it’ll look bad if my friends walk in here and see me calmly watching a man get buzz-sawed to death” or “ugh, social interactions, no!”) or Yugi is noping into control (“cutting it a little fine here, Yami… Yami? … oh god he really doesn’t intend to save that guy!”)


LOOK OUT FOR WHAT? I’m pretty sure he can see the saw! It’s not like he’s carelessly stepping into traffic here, Yuug!

Now, at the point at which Yugi gets involved, the saw is here:

… which means Yugi has less than zero seconds to cross the fairly large arena, get the key, unlock both of the cuffs and get Pandora out of the way. I mean, he does it, but HOW?


(jk Yami gives him proper credit for, like, everything)

Pandora does not give him proper credit for saving his muderous ass. He doesn’t say thank you or even look at Yugi, he rushes over to suspiciously still and silent Catherine, who turns out to be behind a curtain of…

Disney fire? Seriously what kind of fabric is that? It tears like tissue paper but drapes like satin.

Anyway her head comes off but he doesn’t notice. #awkward

Yugi does. O_O

And then Malik interrupts this sweet reunion between a man and a poorly-built mannequin in a wig to have a little chat with Yugi…

He tells him it was indeed him who controlled Bandit Keith and he had him break the Puzzle to see if Yugi was really the one who could solve it…

teehee, Yami’s a man

teehee, Yugi has a man inside him

Yugi has had exactly the amount of bullshit he is prepare to put up with today.

You tell him, Yugi!


Also for real, Malik says “It doesn’t concern you, but allow me to nonetheless regale you with my entire backstory and motivation. Which has nothing to do with you, lowly vessel.” Theory: Malik is super bored and wants more people to talk to.

Anyway, here is his backstory, set against its original backdrop of a history of war in the Middle East through the ages. Obviously.

Cool, makes sense.

… Is this them? Or?Just a random army?

Pictured: Romans?
Not pictured: shadows, mothers, daughters, etc

“Especially Napolean.”
“If you avoided all contact with the outside world, how do you know about Napolean?”

“These are our Avoiding All Contact With The Outside World tanks.”

From regular marauders? Like?! Someone please come and explain this to me? I’m looking at you, @ramblingspot

How often did this really come up, though? Unless all those armies really were regularly attacking the Tomb Keepers, in which case, how the fuck did they last this long?!

It’s nice that Atem gets an out like this so he’s not just stuck in the puzzle forever as it would have been SO EASY to allow to happen. I like the headcanon that Atem intended to just seal himself, since he was in a bit of a rush, and that Seto, as Pharaoh, figured out the second chance and set up the Tomb Keepers to entrust this mission to them. 

Good thing Malik waited until the last possible moment before going rogue. It would have been pretty embarrassing if the Tomb Keepers gave up sometime in like the 1970s.

Oh boy, then do I have some good news for you!

Then Malik says the hint of who the Pharaoh is was left in the Book of the Dead…

And plunges enthusiastically headfirst into a massive logical fallacy.

That is not what that says or means, kid. If it said “You will recognise the Pharaoh because he has utterly ridiculous three-coloured enormously spiky hair” you wouldn’t become Pharaoh by indulging in a punk-rock dye job and a vat of hairspray.

Seems a bit harsh. He wants revenge for his family having had to live in the darkness for all this time. I wonder if someone should explain to him that the Pharaoh also had to live in the darkness all this time, except alone and without any memories or hope, and he shouldn’t be so mean.

Yugi has now caught up with the plot and that means it’s time for Feels.

Really think Yami should have been the one to tell him this, and not some vengeance-obsessed teenager using a washed-up murderous magician as a puppet. #whatisthisshow

Yugi realises what Yami has already been tempted by…

But he comes around much faster, because he’s seen that Yami’s already started on his journey to find his memories and that must mean it’s what Yami wants.


GOD why does puzzleshipping have so many FEELINGS ugh

It is at this point that Malik’s love of drama once again overtakes what passes for common sense with him and he can’t resist jolting Yugi out of his bittersweet reverie to WARN HIM OF HIS EVIL PLANS

CREEPILY! Seriously, he gives way too much information, including straight-up telling Yugi about Osiris (Slifer).

Just as Malik leaves Pandora to fall into Yugi’s tiny arms…

The cavalry arrives! Good thing they weren’t relying on these guys to save Yugi from the saw.

Between the saws, the creepy decor, the unconscious madman and the headless mannequin, there is quite a bit of explaining necessary here…

While they cover that, Malik gives confusing orders to Rishid and tells him that he (Malik) will go to Battle City himself, wielding Ra.

You’d think a guy who was so cut up about having to spend his whole life in the dark in ominous Ancient Egyptian style rooms would not, on escaping, spend his whole time  in the dark in ominous Ancient Egyptian style rooms, but Rishid is so surprised by the idea of Malik leaving their lair and going to get involved himself that that is apparently exactly what he did.

Rishid is worried about Malik. As you would be.

The word is … fun

I am not joking. I don’t need to joke! Rishid saying “Oh no, I always get nervous when Malik uses the word FUN, it means he’s thinking terrible thoughts” is straight out of a crack fanfic, let’s face it.

While Rishis frets, Malik goes across the room to his enormous inverted pyramid table, picks up Ra, and just randomly takes his clothes off because whatever. Apparently he doesn’t wear anything under his big robe.

Clothes off, he starts … talking to his sister in his head. ‘~’

Jokes aside, it’s nice that he wants to justify himself to Ishizu. He wants her to understand and he wants to help her, he just has a very twisted idea of what constitutes “helping”.

Also a very selective memory:


N: The kid doesn’t mean anything to N at this point in time because if he just fell in love with you at first sight then of course he’s going to talk to you. You don’t just get that feeling for anybody, so talking to you is worth a try. After finding out the kid isn’t biologically yours he’ll proceed to make subtle moves before asking you out on a coffee date at the café he just so conveniently works at. “I’m single and I have no children either, so looks like we already have two things in common. How about we discuss what else we have in common over some coffee? My treat.”

Originally posted by greennocturne

Leo: Thank goodness for your toddler cousin because he just found a way to initiate conversation with you. He’ll casually ask about your cousin and compliment their superhero or princess attire before somehow throwing in the word mom, which should prompt you to tell him the truth. At that point he’ll turn on his charm and and try to ask you out. “That’s cool. Does your mom like superheroes too? Oh, that’s not your son? Sorry, I assumed…my name is Taekwoon by the way.”

Originally posted by serenedreamer

Ken: He’ll feel somewhat defeated because if that were your kid then of course he wouldn’t make a move. He’ll assume you already have a boyfriend, fiancé, husband or significant other and would just go back to wiping down his counter. Unless fate has its way, the toddler calls you by something else giving him the signal to talk to you. He has a 50/50 chance. “You win some and you lose some. *sigh*”

Originally posted by k-pop-is-my-narcotic

Ravi: Ravi would be similar to Ken and feel like he’s lost before he even tries. A part of him would really want to talk to you, but then he wouldn’t want to offend you in the event you could be married or if you perceive it as him asking if you’re old. So, he’ll just sit there in agony as he decides on what to do. “The good ones are always taken…or is she? What is this situation? Who is this kid?”

Originally posted by thisisjustforfunval

HongBin: HongBin’s whole being would be emotionally stuck. See your whole being is a green flag signaling he should talk to you, but the kid running around calling you ‘eomma’ is a red flag. So, he’ll just stare, most likely awkwardly, debating if he should just overlook the kid or just let you walk out of the café with the risk of never seeing you again. If he does decide to talk to you, he might overthink it and end up putting his foot in his mouth. “Excuse me ma’am…my name is *Eomma!* Have a nice day! *I must hide these feelings*”

Originally posted by eternalinsomniatic-inactive

Hyuk: Well if Hyuk can’t spot a wedding ring on your finger then he’s going to try his luck at talking to you. He’ll be nice without trying to sound too eager, and he’ll even slip in the question of whether or not the kid is really yours or not. And the expression on his face would signal that he’s really serious about wanting to know. Once he finds out that it isn’t he’ll turn on his Hyuk charm and ask for your phone number. “Cute kid. Is he yours?”

Originally posted by lehyuks

Thanks for asking!
-Admin Cheezy ^_^

anonymous asked:

I think I should point out that people calling L a messiah figure usually are doing so because of the religious symbolism. (Ex. The relationship between L and Light is much like Jesus and Judas from the Bible at times)

Okay, but…. does that make any specific contextual sense?

Like, how are L and Light like Jesus and Judas? This would imply a follower turned betrayer situation and as far as I am versed in Death Note canon there is neither any point in time where either L or Light are a follower of one another nor any specific one-sided betrayal. Both of them have each other’s death as their declared goal and both of them lie about friendship. Neither has been betrayed in any meaningful sense of the word.

I’ll be first to admit I am not Christian and not too knowledgeable on the bible, but from my best standard of information there is literally no parallel here.
(Discounting the ominous anime-only foot massage scene, I guess. So yeah, I see where you’re coming from in the vaguest sense, but when the conclusion is not applicable to anything else, then I… can’t really count it?)

Exo Scenario: Noona ~

Luhan smut where the girl is a noona and she is extra shy because he is younger and he needs to try extra hard to get her in the mood. Please mention his scar on his lower lips that drives noonas crazy. gomawo xie xie

This will be my first Luhan smut so I hope that it turns out well (I don’t write Luhan a lot in general, on my other blog, either, so I’m kind of worried about how this will turn out). Either way, I hope that you like it and thank you for requesting. Please let me know what you think of it :)

~Admin Ali 

You weren’t particularly opinionated when it came to the age of the guys you dated, and more often than not you dated men younger than you. It made no surprise that your current boyfriend was two years younger, nor was it a surprise that you were shy around him.

You were shy around any boy, even at your age.

Keep reading

toss-ssu  asked:

Mermaid!Reader is very curious of the human world and got a little too close to the shore. Takao + Midorima + Hayama, and just for you Tia, + Kasamatsu takes notice of her. When they got a good look at her, her beauty is overwhelming. What's their/her next move? or What kind of scenario would play out?

Waifu!! hehe. You’re too kind to me *^* Either way, I hope you really like it! (I got carried away with Kasamatsu’s.. But damn.. I love how it turned out xD)

Hayama: He could hardly keep his golden hues off you, wide and filled with a surge of happiness he hadn’t felt in a long time. You, on the other hand, were a bit scared, unsure of what to do.. You would get in trouble, you weren’t supposed to interact with humans! But.. The look in his eyes made you stay. though if anyone asked, you were stuck.

He came running, helping you into a more comfortable position, looking you up and down for several moments. His actions made you just a bit nervous, but there was a soft thudding in your heart, and you remained still, assessing this.. creature..

So this is a human…

“O…OH! You’re a mermaid!!” He stated the obvious, but the excitement made you giggle just a little, Rather than say anything, you nodded, giving him a shy smile. He blinked several times, turning his head to the side as he stood up, returning the smile with an even bigger grin.

“Let’s go swimming!”

He yanked you by the hand, ignoring the squeal from your lips as his laugh was infectious.. contagious.. Not to mention gorgeous. You only responded with a light laugh of your own, and while he forgot to ask your name, too excited to remember, he decided there’d be plenty of time to be acquainted. 

Kasamatsu: His first instinct is to run away. He’s not good with girls, and he thinks a mermaid would be no exception. However, despite feeling some heat rushing to his cheeks, considering you weren’t wearing clothing, he found himself sitting on the beach. When you got closer, he took off his jacket, wrapping it around your form as he looked away, coughing slightly.

“Y…You could get sick…” he mumbles, though that only makes you laugh, and shake your head in amusement.

“Mermaids don’t get colds like you humans..” There was a playful smile on your lips, and you raised your hand, cupping his cheek so you can look at him. This only made him fluster more, cheeks almost a dark tinge of red, but he felt breathless when you smiled big at him.

“H..Has anyone ever said your eyes are gorgeous..?” you whisper, lightly tracing it with a finger, “They’re the perfect shade of blue.. I’m almost jealous.”

“T…T…Thank you…” he manages to say, frowning when you continue to trace his face, and on instinct, smacks your hand away.. At your surprised face, he tried avoiding eye contact, almost burying his face in his shorts, but didn’t want to be rude.. “S..Sorry.. I .. I don’t like.. to be.. touched..”

Shaking your head, you smiled softly, “It’s okay.. I.. I got a little too curious..” you mumble, but keep your eyes on him, unable to look away..

“So..” at this he somewhat straightened his posture, though he was still a bit tense from your previous ministrations, “What else can you tell me about yourself.. human?”

“It’s not ‘human’” he speaks sharply, noticing the shocked look on your face again, earning him yet another blush. “I.. I mean.. I.. I have a name…”

“Oh?” she asks, tilting her head, “What’s your name then?”

Biting his lip, he finally looks you in the eye this time, without feeling nervous, 

“K..Kasamatsu… Yukio..”

“Kasamatsu Yukio…” You repeat, loving the way his name rolls off your tongue. You smile then, nodding, “It’s nice to meet you, Kasamatsu-kun.. I’m ____.”

He finds himself nodding, though there’s a faint smile on his lips as he listens to you talk about your world. And likewise, he exchanges pieces of the human world, loving every reaction you give him when he talks about gadgets and gizmos. When the sun starts to set, he finds himself a bit lonely when you leave, but it instantly vanishes when you ask him to meet up the same time tomorrow.

Midorima: The two of you are staring.. more like glaring at each other when you first meet. Midorima thought he was drugged or really tired because last time he checked, mermaids are part of fairy tales. 

However, when you smacked his face for being so rude, he realized you were very real.. and very strong.. Damn that tail.. He continued to rub his cheek, despite feeling his skin heat up, and not just from being disciplined by a girl.

You were very gorgeous.. 

Just his luck, having to run into someone who’s not part of his world, may never be part of it, yet takes an interest in him. He quickly learns you’re very curious, and although you’re a girl, you’re strong and tough, and won’t take anyone’s shit.

He’s not sure if he should feel intimidated or happy you only associate with him.

“W..Why don’t you ever wear a shirt?!”

You looked at him, huffing as your arms cross over your chest, “Mermaids don’t need to wear clothes! We’re used to cold climates.”

He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead, yet reminds himself you’re not human, so it’d be kind of dumb to lecture about the lack of clothing.

“Still.. To anyone else, you look like a human girl…” he looks at the tail hidden in the water. “Someone might try to take advantage of you.”

You snorted, shaking your head before looking at the sky, 

“If that’s the case, I’ll beat them up..” you grin, looking at him, “I had no trouble beating the shit out of you.”

He scoffs, throwing a blanket over you and avoids eye contact for the rest of the day. Because, as much as he wants to deny it, the mark on his face was proof that you, indeed, beat him, and he really couldn’t argue with that. Even if it was embarrassing.

Takao: He was very curious about you when he’d been trekking on the hot sands. To think.. On his visit in a new place, he’d find you washed up on shore, a mermaid… That’s what you’re called right? He really can’t help himself, and he runs towards you, though slows down when you start to slowly back away.

“W..Wait! Please don’t go!”

For some reason, you halt, turning your head back to him, noticing the way his blue hues glimmer in the sun, and you feel captivated.. Mesmerized.. 

Were all humans as gorgeous as him?

You carefully walked closer to him, though remained close enough to the water in case there was any sign of danger. But you didn’t sense anything off with him, so you stayed put, watching like a hawk as he came up to you, and bent to your level.

“W..Wow..” he breathes, a soft hand caressing your face, before moving to your hair, and takes his time exploring you. He doesn’t touch your breasts, sensing your slight nervousness, so he goes down your arm, and when he reaches your fins, he hesitates.. Will it be soft..? Hard..? Edgy..? He doesn’t want to hurt himself or you, so he looks into your eyes, waiting for you to make the move.

“Y..You can touch my scales.. They won’t harm you..”

Wow.. Even your voice is music to his ears, soft and tender.. He gives a huge grin then, eyes going to the colourful scales. He takes his time exploring, and although there’s a bit of movement from them, he can only stare at how they move. He doesn’t touch the end though, feeling that’s a bit.. too personal.. and sits down close enough to you but far away from the water.

“To think I’d run into a mermaid during my travels..” he murmurs, giving you a gentle smile. “I’m such a lucky guy!”

Your eyes wide, a soft blush coats your cheeks as you grin, swallowing the bit of nervousness in your system. 

“Y..You think so..? I.. I’ve never met a human before..”

He laughs at that then, the word ‘really?’ mixing in but you couldn’t hear it within the laughter. You find yourself enthralled with his voice, and kind of wish you could record it..

Ah. that’s absurd..

“So.. There’s a first for everything.. You got to meet me… and I got to meet you!” 

You could only nod, giving a soft smile in return to his eagerness.

“Say.. mermaid-chan.. Can I get a picture with the two of us? I won’t show it to anyone else! It’ll be a secret between you and me!”

At first, you hesitate, because you’d just met this guy, and no one was supposed to know about your kind.. But.. the twinkle in his blue hues, the way he looks at you like you do to humans.. It’s.. hard to say no.. So you nod, making sure your fins aren’t part of it.

A slight yelp leaves your lips when he pulls you against him, taking a quick photo of the two of you grinning, and he can only grin when he looks at it.

“It’s perfect..” he whispers, before standing up. “Well.. I should be getting back,.. It was nice to see you Mermaid-chan!”

Before you could say anything, he was gone, and you frowned, turning your head to the sun. The only regret you have is not getting his name.


It’s probably because I revisited series 2 of Getting On right after doing the big giant what is Julius post, but even as I was watching and enjoying very much indeed the genius director’s* excellent and entirely correct decision to point the camera right at Dr Peter Healy’s face with his specs of sexiness, I was suddenly overcome with the idea that personality-wise – as well as phrase-wise –

Peter Healy is pretty much exactly how I imagine Malcolm would have turned out if he’d grown up with all the advantages that Julius took for granted.

Peter Healy is what Malcolm would have been if he (like Julius) was One of Us.

Keep reading

Reality TV Show AU

There’s this horrible reality tv show going about in which commoner folk get to stay with few of their “favourite” stars for, like, maybe two weeks to a months or so. Catch is: their stars are going to treat them rather badly (i.e. always their turn to wash laundry to not eating the same food they do) and we’ll have to see how long they go until they quit. 

Tsuna signed up as a joke. Or maybe someone signed him up as a joke. Either way, he got in. 

The stars chosen this month are horrible difficult people to get along with. (i.e. Byakuran, Xanxus, Squalo, Mukuro, Hibari) and Tsuna is prepared for the worst. He is willing to drop out on the first round but… he doesn’t really see these kinds of shows so he has no idea how to. He believes that maybe being mean to the stars would get him kicked out? But he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, so he’s probably passive-aggressive. 

The day comes in which he has to live with those stars. And after a few days he realises that, wait, this isn’t so bad. This is nothing compared to back then when he was bullied, these guys are weak, their game is weak

With his passive-aggressive politeness, he somehow wins the respect of all of the people he lived with. 

general grumpy pants hux


Trying to figure out how to draw Sam Yao aka my favorite running partner.

I have this headcanon that this fucking dweeb has glasses that are either broken and taped duct taped in the middle (probably broke it early on during the apocalypse) or like one of the lenses is cracked but he keeps wearing them anyway. That he might wear a fanny pack. Everyone questions it and teases him for it, but he continues to wear it anyway.

I seriously love the Zombies Run App. I’m nowhere near the level of fitness to turn on Zombie Chases, but I’ll get there! For now this is a great way to get me walking and away from my school work.

okay so i just learned how to make gifs in photoshop (go me) and i want to talk about the kids running back to the rec room at the compound when plan a (help the agents not get dead) fails.

specifically, i want to talk about two things:

while darwin’s yanking hank out of the potential line of fire and everyone’s running back, alex turns and looks back at darwin like he’s looking for direction or instruction – i’m not sure if they make eye contact or not but trust me i’m upset either way because it proves that alex either (a) cares for darwin’s well-being specifically and/or (b) sees darwin as someone worth following 

and if they do make eye contact then that’s another moment of wordless communication between them, which brings the count up to like 5.

and also i wanna talk about this:

alex like lunges to make contact with with darwin (also note, in the space of the cut from the last shot to this one, angel has shot out to the front of the pack.  girl is fast, even on foot) and only takes his hand back when they’re both ‘safely’ through the doors.

i’m very upset about both of these things and i’ve been looking at the compound scene in one form or another for six hours now.  help.  please.

(gifs by me.  pain courtesy of whoever fucking wrote this scene)




Ah here we are. So without further ado lets begin.

This analysis will cover the only part of the finale I can remember I mean ffs it was traumatic af.


Either way, we see Nealon chomp on something (probs the worm) and he “transfers it” to delphine or whatever talkin bout how she has until morning.

Delphine says her goodbyes to ppl and shit and when she goes to the car park we see her with another dude.

I say dude bc the footsteps are heavy, and they sound more like boots than heels. clunk vs clack and all that. 

WHEN SHE GETS SHOT we know 4 things:

1. That it wasn’t in the fucking chest, but in the torso, somewhere possibly below her sternum. Stomach, perhaps.

2. That it was through and through, as there was blood on the car (perfect for bleeding out)

3. That she was later approached as she was sitting on the ground.

4. That she knows the person (jfc it could be anyone anyway. but its helpful to know.)

As i said previously, Delphine was gonna die via some kind of poisoning, and it must have been like in her bloodstream some fucking how bc she was v confident goin in on that smooch with Cosima. this is important, as we know that now the poison isn’t saliva-contractable (and no nealon didn’t share it via saliva he bit the shit and let the juice flow like some fuckin creepo)

What’s a better way to get rid of poison in the body than bleeding urself dry and then getting a blood transfusion.

My prediction for next season: Delphine is alive obvs, she wakes up in a hospital, with the dude who shot her like wtf why u shoot me. 

Dude’s like, I had to make you bleed so I could put clean blood in u. Delphine’s like oh shit why didn’t I think of that.


Sorry I spoiled it for everyone OB writers, but you ain’t foolin nobody.