Reminder that you have to ramble about galra facial features.
[Edited and updated 4/6/17]
Okay so this was something I had to think about because there’s been several times where I’ve looked at fanart, including my own, and had this moment of “this… is not a galra, this is a person spraypainted purple with color contacts and cat ears slapped on” and part of this is, I’ve had to look at canon galra and figure out what quite is the difference here.
Because the Galra are definitely what we’d call humanoid, but, they’re set up differently from humans.
I want to put this here as a reference, but I’m also putting it under a cut because there’s a lot of images to be had. But here goes!
5:30 am wasn’t your friend. In fact, 5:30 am was the mortal enemy that you rose from the dead to fight on almost a daily basis. With your alarm blaring throughout your room, you rolled over in your bed with a heavily annoyed groan. Normal people would just push themselves up, go have a cup of coffee, and start getting ready for their day. You weren’t one of those people, considering that coffee was basically your life’s work by now.
Ok so Lockwood and co might be getting a TV series and well it better not turn out like Percy Jackson
-George has to be chubby
-if George ended up being some hot guy guy who’s a snob I’m not gonna be ok
-lucy can’t be a perfect model
-but she still needs some elegance and beauty, but like I said NOT A MODEL
-Lockwood has to be tall
-and jawline please
-the skull better have good animation
-as well as any of the other ghosts
-but like not toooo scary, cause like then I’d be to scared to watch the show..
-I’d also like the skull to have Ryan Reynolds with a British accent
-and the skull better the sassy and sarcastic ghost he is
-you gotta start the series with the annoying snobby kipps that we all used to hate
-but then later on show his soft side (like ok the books)
-Holly better be pretty (cause like she is)
-we need like to have parts where you can here Lucy Narrating (like the intro to each episode maybe??)
-then we also need the perspective of Lockwood and George when lucy first talks with skully
-when lucy is experiencing a psychic thingy we need those creepy flash back things
-but then again, not to scary
-actress of Kat needs to have a Pointy chin ok
-flo gotta have white teeth
-and she gotta have her blue puffer jacket
-and Barnes has to be like Barnes
AN: the italics are a flashback lmao, just a quick head’s up! <3
“I’m not playing, asshole. Give them to me.”
Around this time is when people surrounding you guys including, Hoseok, Namjoon, and even Jimin started listening in on your conversation but you didn’t mind an audience. Oh no, you wanted the world to see you knock Kim Taehyung out cold.
“I’m serious, babe. I don’t have your undies. I sure wish I did though, they were fucking adorable.”
“Alright, Tae. Humor me. If you don’t have them. Then who does?” You sighed. Your anger was at the back of your throat now and your fists clenched. You were sure your knuckles were almost white.
Taehyung laughed once again, bringing his fingers to your chin to turn your gaze to his.
“Min. Yoon. Gi.”
“What?” You scoffed, your eyes automatically rolling, “Yoongi doesn’t have my underwear. I just talked to him.”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause, I handed them over to him earlier. Lord knows how badly he wanted those. That pathetic little crush of his. On you! Of all people.” He sighed.
His words might have hurt you if you were actually paying attention to them. But no, he lost you at “Pathetic little crush”. Yoongi had a crush on you? Min Yoongi? The Min Yoongi who skipped classes, or showed up high, fucking girls left and right Min Yoongi? Could have fooled you.
You felt your face heat up. Of course, he was gorgeous and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought of him in that light but he wasn’t your type… Was he? Did you even have a type? And if you did, did fuckboy fall into that category?
“Aw, don’t tell me. You have a crush on him as well? The good girl falling for the burnout. How 2003 chick flick of you both.”
You winced at Taehyung’s tone. What happened to the nice, good guy he came off to be? Was that all just a facade? And you didn’t have a crush on Yoongi, did you? I mean, yeah, he looked amazing tonight and yeah, a butterfly or two may have fluttered around your chest any time he was near you, but that’s not a crush, right? That’s just how you felt around Yoongi normally.
You vaguely remembered one of the first times Yoongi spoke to you. You’d known of his reputation because who didn’t? Not that it ever mattered to anyways. Honestly, you didn’t care if he slept around or smoked pot all day. That was his business and if he treated you with respect, then you’d treat him nicely back. Simple as that.
It was your Sophomore year, nearly two years ago that you met Min Yoongi in your world literature class. Of course, he was failing and of course you were top ranked so it was a no-brainer to the teacher for you to stay after class and tutor him; everyday.
Prompt: what if you met a real life Jason Todd? Amazing right? Here’s how it would go…
Warnings: asshole creeps, foul language, sexual harassment.
A/N since this is a real life scenario I’m changing Jason’s last name to Torres because 1. If I left at Todd that would just be a little weird 2. I’d like to think Jason is half Latino or comes from Latino descent (maybe the other half is american?) so yeah. I hope you like!
P.S. it’s not really…an AU…it’s loosely based on @jasontodd-is-alive ‘s “Alternate Careers for the Outlaws”…also i apologize for it not being gender neutral, i’m really trying to get used to using they/them pronouns, and i’ll try to write future oneshots as gender neutral once i get used to it.
Gotham City, New Jersey. What an interesting place your job had taken you. It was oddly eerie how similar it was to Gotham City from the comics. You know, Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl and Red Hood. Tall skyscrapers, a rich business mogul, crime ridden streets. Weird right?
The company you worked for was holding a business trip in Gotham City and it was absolutely mandatory. Hence here you were.
It was your first day in the city and it had been long and strenuous. You decided to get some down time at a bar near your hotel and grab a drink before calling it a night.
You opened the door and went straight for the open barstool near the end of the bar. You sat down and folded your hands across the bar top and waited for the bartender to take your order.
“How can I help you today, miss?” He said with a jersey accent.
“A scotch on the rocks please,” you said and rested your chin in your palm.
You took out your ID and gave it to the bartender.
“[state you’re from], eh?” He raised an eyebrow.
He inspected it for no more than 30 seconds and handed it back to you. He left you and began working on your drink. You sighed and put your ID back in your purse, then continued resting your chin in your palm.
As the man to your right left his stool, another guy replaced him. He had a blond buzzcut, tattoos littered his arms and he was wearing a thin white tank top and a pair of army pants. He didn’t look friendly or attractive at all. At least not from your perspective.
“Hey,” he said. You weren’t sure if it was to you or not, so you ignored him. One of your coworkers (and best friend) advised you not to socialize with the locals; they were “weirdos”.
“Hey,” he repeated and this time you turned your head in his direction. He was closer to you than you would have liked, considering you could smell the whiskey from his mouth. He looked your figure up and down once and grinned at you, showing off his gold grill.
“Oh come on…” you thought to yourself.
“Are you talking to me?” You asked him.
“You bet, baby,” he winked. You rolled your eyes in response and turned your head back to the bartender now in front of you serving your drink. You whispered a thank you to him and began sipping the scotch.
“Aw come on, have a little fun,” he slung his arm around you shoulder, “Why don’t I take you home and show you a good time, eh?”
You shivered at his touch, but not in a good way. You stopped sipping and looked at the man who wouldn’t leave you alone. You had two options: politely decline his invitation or stand your ground and tell him off. Either way, he was getting rejected.
Fandom: The Mortal Instruments/Shadowhunters Paring: Jace x Reader Summary: You’re traveling home when an unexpected interaction leads to deathly consequences. (I know this mirrors the storyline of Clary Fray, but I couldn’t help but add some modern flare to it. Plus it’s such a good intro for a character to have into the shadow world!)
The air in the tunnel sucked in as the approaching train shot it’s way into the platform. You followed the crowd and stepped onto the tube, appreciating the space a 9pm commute offered and taking one of the quad seats. You stretched your legs out and onto the seat in front of you, prepared to stare out and do your usually post-work zone out. While it wasn’t the most stressful job in the world, being a barista at Java Jones always left your cheeks sore from smiling and mind cluttered with rude comments from caffeine deprived customers.On the plus side you constantly smelt like coffee.
The train took off, shaking a bit and the overhead light flickering on as the underground tunnel cut out the sky. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the closest person to you was a tall woman, pale and shaking. A druggie? you wondered to yourself, No. She’s dressed too nice to be a user, or at least one that would eat your face like that that guy in Florida… Something was clearly wrong, and not just because she had chosen to rock a blazer with massive shoulder pads. Damn. You knew you had to ask.
“Ma’am, you alright?” You asked, pulling your headphones from your ears and sitting upright. She looked up sharply, her face flashing from shock to fear to something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Well aren’t you sweet,” she said, wringing her hands, “I’m-I’m ok. Just been a long day. A long century.” You laughed, “yeah I feel that.” Her mouth turned into a smile, but you felt yourself instinctively press against the back of your seat. “Um, can I help you? Do you need help?” “Yes actually, now that you mention it…” she said moving closer and taking the seat next to you. Crap. You had not intended to make friends on the train today. “I’m feeling a bit…well drained. I need something to help…” It was there, in the woman’s unnervingly steady eye contact that it dawned on you. The expression you couldn’t figure out earlier- it was hunger. Instinctively you slid your hand into your jacket pocket and wrapped your fingers around your keys. Best case, she was going to ask for cash for McDonalds. Worst case you could use your keys and go all low-budget Wolverine on her face, and jump off at the next stop.
“You’re taking Fast Food to a whole new level.” You and the woman jerked your heads up to see a young guy with blonde hair and an annoyingly defined jawline. The woman grabbed hold of your wrist but turned her gaze on the guy. “Nephlim,” you heard her almost growl at him. “Alive and in the flesh, which is more than I can say for you” he said, pulling out an object from behind his back and lunging towards the woman. Instantly she dropped your wrist and moved with ridiculous speed, appearing behind the guy-sharp teeth bared. But he was ready for her and ducked sweeping his leg under hers. As she fell you saw something glint in the guys hand. A knife. No. A sword? Oh God, I’m about to witness a murder! “No!” You screamed running at the blonde guy. Surprised he turned to meet the exclamation and fell as your shoulder make contact with his chest. The weapon scattered out of his hand and you scrambled to pick it up. “Both of you just stop!” you shouted, holding the blade in front of you with both hands. “No one is killing..or eating…anyone!” Your hands were steady but your voice held a wild confusion. The woman smirked, “Oh, silly mundane.”
What happened next only took a few seconds, but felt like it was in slow motion. You saw the guy open his mouth wide, yelling. You saw something that reflected fear rise in his blue eyes. But you didn’t hear any noise. All of your focus turned to the woman, who’s grimace and hands reached out for you. Her skin so white it made her lips look they were covered in blood. And then they were. Blood coated her bottom lip and a trickle slid down her chin. Confused you looked down, seeing the blade your hands still clutched now stuck in the woman’s gut. Upon realizing what had happened time sped up to it’s normal pace, sending you falling back onto the nearest seat and the woman writhing on the floor. You looked across her to the equally shocked guy “You…I…I didn’t…” You didn’t know whether you should defend or explain yourself. “You shouldn’t of been able to do that. You shouldn’t of seen…” the guy muttered, keeping his eyes on you but picking up the body of the now still woman. You looked down at your shaking hands, covered in blood so dark it carried tints of black. You wanted to scream but the reality of what you’d just done hollowed you out. “Oh God.” Suddenly the PA system dinged, signaling the opening of the doors onto the new platform. “Don’t.” The guy said, reading your desire to run. But you weren’t wanting to stick around. You may be running from the scene of a crime, but considering he’s the one who brought the weapon on the train, you figured you’d be justified in getting away from him. Right before the doors closed you grabbed your backpack and bolted for the platform, running past the people waiting to step on and up the stairs. You didn’t stop to warn people or explain; you just ran until you broke the surface and were standing in the open air outside the station doors. Breathing heavily and shoving your hands in your pockets you threw your head about making sure the guy hadn’t followed. When you felt you were alone you sunk to the cement. Images of the woman’s face, the smell of that blood that still stained your skin, and the guy’s final words as you ran overwhelmed you. “They will come for you.”
Setup: Ok..so in a rash moment of
weakness I bet @theycallmebecca that my beloved Cleveland Indians could best
her Boston Red Sox in the latest series.
Whoever won got a drabble. It
was close and an awesome game but unfortunately an L
for Cleveland. So here is her choice: Chris and Reader adopt a puppy and have to
decide on its name: from the Patriots.
Bosox or Disney. Aannd because I can
never write short it’s more of a fic. Enjoy!
The whole world gets
involved when you and your new boyfriend, Chris Evans, adopt a friend for
Dodger but then can’t settle on a name.
As defenses for impromptu
madness go, it’s a little bit predictable.
You’re standing, sheepish and flustered, with an armload of wriggling, wagging tricolor fluff
while your boyfriend Chris leans against the front hall closet door.
His arms are folded across his chest. His deep ocean eyes
are bleary and amused at once. It is technically his Laurel Canyon home, although your socks and books and curling
iron moved in two months ago. Long enough to feel a bit like
they belong, but not long enough to be certain if you’ve erred.
“Oh really.” The sound of Boston twangs as one skeptical eyebrow
It was just the first
thing that popped into your head. Chris
pauses to take in the mammoth paws, the blunt short snout and drawls, “So SuperPuppy jogs a cool
Mystic Messenger First Impressions - Via My 10yr Old Brother
Yoosung Kim: hmmm. Large forehead. Lifeless, dead eyes. Likes.
Brushing his teeth..? smeegul. Just. Smeegul. Wears brown thing in hair? (they’re
hair clips) oh. No teeth. Doesn’t have emotions. (what do you think his
personality is like?) Just is one of those characters that is like this all the
time *holds creepy eye contact for like a minute with a frown* and, triPPIN
Zen: (we’ll do zen next) Zenyana from overwatch??? What???
(okay what do you think of him?) looks like he’s gonna shank you in ur sleep.
(do you think he’s handsome?) no. hmmmm. Likes old person wallpaper. Never does
up his buttons on his shirt, a.k.a. douche-bag. (do you think he’s a p r e t t
y b o i) no. just. No. Too much white. (are you being racist???) no, are you?
Tristan eyebrows. Vampire. T H I C C. Uh. *gasp* HIPPY PONYTAIL!!! He looks
like that guy we always see in town! You know the one that’s always fat and
sweaty and wears those glasses… (ZEN ISN’T FAT) no just the fact that he has a
ponytail and a turtle neck. R O A S T E D.
707: *makes grossed out double chin face* ummm. You said he
was handsome… no. BUMBLEBEE GLASSES. Looks like a chick.. No. MANCHICK. I
thought he had starbucks in his hands. Like. A pumpkin spiced latte or
something. Definitely a God fan, he’s in the Jesus fandom. He’s got lots of
cracks on his outfits (wdym???) look! Crack, crack, crack. He’s all cracked up.
Jk I was talking about the cracks on ur screen. He puts on a deep mysterious
voice when really, he has a S Q U E A K Y squ eaky voice. Has red. Obsessed with
bumblebee colours and transformers. (What do you think his occupation is?) what
does that mean again? (Like his job.) augh. *grins evilly* hm, being a loser,
pizza shop, or telemarketing. Who calls their kid 707 (it’s code name, he’s a
hacker) Why don’t they call him hacker 707 then??? (THEY DO)
Jumin Han: (we’ll do Jumin now) Jumin??? Is he Jewish (he’s
probably rich enough). Uhm, has a dirty cat. (that’s a stray, the other one is
his cat) THAT ONE LOOKS LIKE A PILLOW (her name is Elizabeth the 3rd)
ohoho WOW. Younger, skinnier, whiter, different hair coloured homer simpson.
Again, looks high as balls. Why does everyone in this game look high? Dating
website or a website to buy drugs… grey, again, lifeless dead eyes. Looks like
he’s gonna punch you in the face “You wanna mess with me”. Likes hankies,
specifically purple ones.
V: DEMONIC EYES. Old person mouth. Blue hair, yes,
definitely blue hair. And a blue personality as well. She looks like she’s be
an emo (SHE???) look! Boobs! One of those people who would say “man, I just
robbed a bank with my emotions. My sadness was the get-away driver, and my
anger took the money”. (SEE. NO BOOBS) still looks like a girl. *huffs* B O R I
N G. why does he have a pimp stick? Or is that an umbrella? IS HE BLIND?
(*nods*) ohhhh. OHHHHH. Well I’m gonna look an asshole. At least they’re not
irl people. Very rich. Otherwise how would he get his pimp stick?
Rika: (Oh look it’s a picture of a snake!) ??? She’s got
eyes the colour of shreks skin. ONIONS HAVE LAYERS DONKEY. Uh. Boring, boring,
boring and boring. Butthole mouth. She’s looks like she’s going “Hehe, I just
stole your credit card details and your boyfriend!” Allergic to peenor cheese
(uuuuhhh, what do you mean by that..?) um. Uh. Things. You know queen. And she
is the walrus god.
Jaehee: (Opinions on queen Jaehee) uuhhh, business woman?
Likes talking and typing about paper. Very small mouth. Dragon eyes. Likes
purple binders. Why does everyone have purple things? Purple hankies, purple
binders (Yoosung’s eyes are purple too) yep. Why does she have a um, neck
thingie (Lanyon). Big forehead, again. (Do you think she’s pretty?) uhhh, no…
Unknown/Saeran: Unknown smells, unknown sighs. *quotes
unbreakable* It’s a silver gun, with a black grip. Is that a guy??? (yeah)
Again, why has he got a woman’s shirt, pink hair and boobs. Did he get
implants???. (he’s just E D G Y) all I
see is wannabee assassins creed. Punk. Goth. Emo.
So Which Ones Do You Think Are Gay:
Zen: uh no.
Yoosung: He looks like someone from final fantasy so yeah. Augh
someone on tumblr is gonna roast me and say “bluh final fantasy is the best”
Jaehee: (what bout Jaehee, is she Gaehee???) Yes.
Jumin: (Does Jumin Han Is Gay???) No.
707: NO. NO. BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WERE TRYING TO GET HIM ON
THE GAME. *gasp*
Rika: No. Cuz she’d be like someone who’s climbin in ur
windows and stealin your bf.
Unknown/Saeran: Yes. (how much percent) He goes to the gay
pub instead of the gay bar (why??) Because he exceeds over the gay bar, so he
can get some- (stds) did you just say LSD?
V: No, because gay people- *laughs* I mean. Blind people, don’t know what gender
they’re looking at. (HE’S BLIND NOT DEAF OR STUPID) 50/50 chance that he gay
“My chest hurts.” His eyes were glossy but he wouldn’t let himself cry anymore. His hair was a mess, and his cheeks were puffy and red. He looked so genuinely sad, and it broke your heart.
"I know, but it will be okay. Just give yourself some time. Want more tea?” You said trying to say cheerfully, but it didn’t matter. You knew Shawn was going to be this heartbroken for a while. He was such a passionate person and so whenever he felt anything, he felt it strongly. He really loved his now ex girlfriend, and watching her leave him, really just broke his heart. I mean, it happens right? Everyone’s bound to get their heart broken at least once in their life, and it’s going to suck, but it still has to happen. The only problem is, it’s already happened to Shawn once, and now it’s happening again. You had been best friends with Shawn since the beginning, and you watched him grow. You watched him be heartbroken about girls like now, and also about small things like losing his favorite guitar pick. You loved him as a friend, but you also loved him romantically. You wished you had the courage to tell him so, and to tell him to stop wasting his time with other stupid girls who seem to only like him for his fame. But your hair was a mess, and you wore band t-shirts with long stained sweaters. Shawn liked beautiful girls with long hair and straight teeth. At least that’s how the last girls looked. It didn’t matter anyway. What mattered right now was how Shawn was feeling. He was broken, and there was nothing you could do.
“I think I’m just gunna take another nap.” He grabbed the blanket and headed for the couch again. But before he sat down you spoke up.
“You know what, why don’t we go do something. You already took like fifty naps Shawn, let’s go out and get some fresh air, no? No more moping around.” You took the blanket from him and put it on the couch.
Shawn just stood there, giving you a look, like he didn’t know what to say. He rubbed his eyes a a couple times before saying, “What would we even do?”
“We could go out to eat, go see a movie. I don’t know, whatever you want.”
“She loved seeing movies.” Shawn spoke quietly and you rolled your eyes. He was going through that phase of a breakup where everything in the world related back to your ex. Earlier that morning Shawn barely drank his tea saying stuff like “She used to drink this exact tea on the balcony at this exact time.” And it broke your heart to see Shawn so sad, but at the same time you really were tired of it.
“Shawn, do me a favor? Okay, we are gunna go out to eat, because I’m hungry okay? But, when we go, and even just now, whenever I talk I want you to listen very carefully to everything I say and just don’t think about her okay?” You said remembering how your friends handled your first heartbreak. They made conversation with you about random things, and snapped in your face whenever they noticed you close your eyes, or look away, meaning you were thinking of something that wasn’t important. You hoped you could think of random topics to talk about with Shawn, and you hoped he would listen.
“Okay.” He said simply, and soon enough the both of you were off to that burger place downtown. It was the only place where Shawn hadn’t gone on some kind of date with his ex. You talked to him about your life and how busy you were lately. You told him about work and school and just everything in between. But eventually you got tired of talking about stuff he mostly already knew.
“You wanna know something?” You said with your mouth full of fries.
“Sure.” Shawn said and ran his hands through his hair, leaning against the table across from you. He was so pretty, and he didn’t even try.
“When I was like 13, I told myself that I’d marry my first boyfriend, that way I wouldn’t have to ever experience heartbreak. Funny right?” You laughed as you wiped the grease from the food off your hands. You weren’t trying to bring up the topic of relationships but you were just being honest, hoping that maybe Shawn would understand that heartbreak is bound to happen even when you try to prevent it.
“You always had that kind of mind. Wish I knew you when you were 13.” Shawn joked, because he knew you when you were only a year older and that’s when you first became friends.
“Can I rant? I think, all day, I’ve been crying about all this, and not actually talking about it and sometimes talking helps. Is it okay if I rant?” Shawn spoke with a rawness in his voice. You loved how honest and real your friendship with him was. So you nodded your head, and he started ranting. Ranting about how beautiful she was, about how he did everything she wanted all the time, about how he thought he was so lucky. It was breaking your heart to see him so sad. It made you realize really what love does to us as humans. It makes us destroy ourselves for someone else, hoping they’ll destroy themselves back for us. And when they don’t, we destroy ourselves even more, thinking it will help. And so here Shawn was, sitting across from you, ripping his own heart out, wishing he could put it on some kind of pretty platter and hand it right over to his ex.
“It’s not fair. How come the people we love most don’t love us back?” He was making circles on the table with his finger, and tapping his foot in the chair.
“Sometimes the people who actually love you, are sitting right in front of you and you just don’t realize it.” You said without even noticing that you were literally sitting in front of Shawn. You were just speaking the truth you heard your friend say to you once.
“What’s that supposed to mean, you got some kind of feelings for me or something?” Shawn was shaking his head and laughing. You looked up from your food and realized what he got out of what you said.
“I never said that, but so what would you say if I did have feelings for you?” You were a little hurt that he was laughing but at the same time you knew that’s how it would end up being anyway. That’s why you never told him how you felt.
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Why not?” You sat with your elbows in the table, your chin in the palm of your hands.
“Because you’re you. I dunno.” You were taken back at what he said and you wanted an explanation. You raised your eyebrows and just stared at him.
“I mean like, you’re a rockstar Y/N. You’re out there kicking ass in your colorful socks and band t-shirts. You’re the smartest chick I know and, the way you live your life is just.. It’s different, you’re different. I always guessed you’d like a guy that’s different too. Not me, I’m just your average white kid that happens to be able to sing. Nothing special really, nothing compared to someone like you.” This was the second time now you were taken back by everything Shawn said, and you just sat there staring at him not knowing what to say.
“You seriously think you aren’t special?” Was all you said at first. Shawn just shook his head some more and laughed again.
“You’re Shawn Mendes, you’re the most popular name out there right now, and probably forever. If you weren’t special, you wouldn’t have millions of girls running after you everyday. Don’t fucking sit here and tell me that you’d be surprised if I liked you Shawn. You can call me different but in reality I’m not. I’m just like every other girl out there who’s crazy in love with you and your special ass.” You weren’t saying it in a mean way, you were just being as honest as possible and you surprised yourself at first, but you were sick of pretending that you weren’t in love wth your best friend who sat across from you, mouth wide open.
“You’re in love with me?”
You shrugged your shoulders and stood up from the table getting ready to leave, regretting what you said. You and Shawn walked out in silence and suddenly the cool air hit you and you stood outside, letting the wind blow your hair around.
“I asked you a question back there.” Shawn reminded you of what he said before, but this time he grabbed your shoulder. You turned to look at him.
“Yes Shawn. I’ve been in love with you since day one. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, hoping you weren’t upsetting Shawn. You stood still for a minute, before you notice Shawn walk closer to you. He was so tall, looking down at you.
His hands were now pushing the other pieces of hair around your face, behind your other ear, and he was looking right at you. He leaned in slowly to kiss you, but you pulled away.
“You’re lonely Shawn. You’re sad. You want someone to kiss and as much as I get that, I’m not letting it happen. I’ll bring you home and you can go back to moping and do whatever you want, but I’m not letting you use me to get rid of your pain okay?” Your face was probably bright red and you could feel your heart beating in your chest, like it was going to jump out and land right in Shawn’s hands. But you didn’t let it. Not this time.
“What do you think I am? Some kind of fuck boy? I wouldn’t kiss someone just for fun Y/N. I did that maybe once. Maybe twice.. But you’re my best friend.”
You stared at him in the cold, and he just stood there staring back at you. The cold air was making his nose pink and his eyes were watering from the wind. You didn’t know what to say, so you just walked over to the car opening to door and getting in. Once you were both seated in the car, Shawn turned on the ignition getting ready to drive before saying, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Was all you could think to say. Shawn started driving and the ride home was quiet. Silent actually, no words. You sang softly to the radio that played but otherwise, there was nothing more between you and Shawn. That was, until you got home. He threw the keys on the table and yelled.
“I fucking love you okay? There, I said it.”
You stood still in your tracks, and you turned to face Shawn.
“Um.. I love you too?” You said and titled your head, before letting out a weak laugh.
“No Y/N. I mean like, like more than that. Of course I never told you because I was too busy being stupid with other girls. But what I said back there, before we got home, it had me thinking.”
“About what I said about how you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna be kissing girls for fun anymore, I wanna be kissing my best friend.” You slowly walked closer to Shawn, watching him as he stood still, his hands in his pockets.
“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, laughing, just in case he was joking.
“Yeah really. Really, really really Y/N.” But he wasn’t joking, his hands were on your neck now, and his breath was warm against your skin. His voice vibrated into your head and soon enough his mouth was on yours. You didn’t stop him this time, instead you kissed back, harder, grabbing his hair and running your fingers through it.
You let out an awkward noise, and you stumbled over the table that was behind you. Shawn pulled away and smiled into your mouth, laughing at you.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” You admitted as you grabbed his hand.
But the fact that she could still have a coherent thought after the amount of booze that she had drunk was the real surprise. Or not, considering that she was drinking that same amount for two weeks now. She must be gaining at least a little resistance.
Dammit, she thought. Now she couldn’t even be drunk properly.
Aelin scanned the dance floor again while still sitting in the bar. Looking for a victim.
A young man with brown hair looking in her direction caught her attention, but she shrugged, turning her head the other way. The man was handsome, but the color of his hair reminded her of another boy, from another life.
Aelin emptied her glass, and made her way towards the dance floor.
Rowan was hunting. He’d been hunting for the past two weeks now, going in every club in town, drinking only enough to make himself less intimidating, hunting someone as desperate as him to muffle the screaming in his head with another type of scream.
Every night he found someone, and every morning that painful scream was louder, and his heart, colder. Which was perfect for his job, but not so much for his mental health.
He was surveying the dance floor, eyes skipping almost automatically any girl who resembled her even a little, when he saw someone who caught his attention.
She was dancing right in front of him, with her eyes closed, her golden hair reflecting the red light in the club, her body swaying with the music, while a boy with black hair behind her had his hands in her hips and was trying to move in the same rhythm as her. She was wearing a black skirt and a black blouse, long-sleeved but with a very, very nice cleavage. Rowan was expecting to see heels in her feet, but she was wearing black ankle boots.
Suddenly, she raised her head and opened her eyes, like she was forced back into reality. Rowan felt like he was looking in the mirror, seeing the numbness, the lack of feeling in her expression, those dead eyes.
Those eyes focalized on him, and, like she was putting on a mask, her face turned into something similar to interest, a smirk forming as she measured Rowan’s body. One of her eyebrows had raised when she finally looked into Rowan’s eyes.
And Rowan had found his prey.
If Aelin was sober, or maybe if she cared, the way that that silver haired man was looking at her would’ve sent her running.
But he was everything she was looking for at the moment. Dangerous. So handsome. And, by the look in his face, wanting to use her in the same way she wanted to use him. Maybe this guy would be able to make Aelin feel something, even if just for a few hours, even if later, she would be deeper in that abyss.
He was wearing a black jeans and a white shirt that gripped tight the muscles of his arms. As he walked towards Aelin, she appreciated the determination in his steps. People moved out of his way instantly, and his eyes kept locked in Aelin’s.
When he got closer, she noticed they were bright green. And were looking at her with such predatory intent that Aelin couldn’t help to lift her chin to face the challenge.
She hasn’t stop dancing since she saw him, but had forgotten the boy she had thought would be her company tonight. Noticing his hands still in her hips, she turned her head back.
“I think I won’t be needing you tonight.”
The guy, too wasted to understand the dismissal, or maybe simply not caring, didn’t move.
Aelin felt a flash of anger. Anger was good. Even if anger was turning as difficult to maintain as any other feeling. She grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted. “I said… out.”
This got his attention. He pulled himself away from her, shooting her a hurt and confused look.
“What the fuck, you crazy bitch,” he said, already backing away.
Aelin gave him a fake smile.
“Thanks for the company”, she said, and turned, intending to go look for her new challenge… only to find him already standing right in front of her.
He was smirking, but his green eyes were now impenetrable. He had a tattoo covering his right arm, starting in his pulse and going up, disappearing inside his sleeve, so she couldn’t see exactly where it ended. It seemed like words, but she didn’t recognize neither the alphabet or the language.
Aelin stood still, with her hands on her hips, letting her eyes pass through his body again, slowly, up and down and up again. His eyes flashed with anger with this inspection, and his nostrils flared.
“Are you done staring?”, he shot, and bared his teeth at her. His voice was rusty, like he hasn’t talked in a while. He had an odd accent, but it wasn’t italian. Irish?
She cocked her head, pretending to think about it. “You’ll do.”
The man took another step in her direction, standing so close that she had to raise her head to face him.
“What was the problem with that boy? You’ve seemed to be enjoying yourself”, he said, his eyes examining every inch of her face, her hair.
And it wasn’t a lie. Aelin needed someone hard, cold, impenetrable. Someone who wouldn’t mind her roughness, her lack of feeling. Someone she could use and not feel guilty about it. And this man, with eyes so cold that could freeze her soul if she still had one, would be perfect for the night. Maybe, after him, she could finally start the mission she had in this godsdamed city, and move on.
Gold. Now that he was standing this close to her, he could see that her eyes were deep blue, but with rings of gold around the pupils. And the gold of her hair only accentuated such strange eyes.
To see this eyes sparkling with joy, Rowan thought, must be a sight from heaven.
Oh gods. He was starting to make eye colors descriptions. What was he thinking? He could even remember the eye color of the last woman he bedded. He needed to get done with this girl, soon and fast.
Rowan lowered his head, whispering in her ear.
“And I seem hard enough for you, blondie?” Her smell was a mix of sweat, lavender and something that remember him of fireplaces and bonfires.
“That is something I intend to find out soon enough”, she said, her voice low, but he was too occupied noticing her earlobe to continue the conversation. Strange that it was bare. Rowan would’ve expected that a girl like her would be wearing earrings, big and shiny. What would she do, he wondered, if he bit it here and now?
And, before he could measure the consequences of his action, like he was used to, he did just that.
This is a piece for @freezerburn-week and is the day 1 prompt. It’s a sort of Assassin/ Secret Agent AU (Yeah i’m not great at doing stuff in the canon universe so pretty much every freezerburn week thing from me is an AU).
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, violence and bad language (probably a teen rating). Also mentions of drugs but no consumption.
Pairing: Freezerburn (Of course)
with the poker chip between her fingers. She gave the bartender a wide smile
when he turned to her.
Sunrise, please. Shaken, not stirred,” she said.
don’t forget the little umbrella!”
sure to remember,” he answered behind a smile.
Yang fluttered her eyelashes
bartender blushed under her gaze until she returned her focus to her target
across the room.
“Philip is like fire. He’s warm and comforting from a safe distance, but once you come closer you will be burned. Just like fire. It doesn’t want to be feared, it wants more, just as Philip did. And I am a love letter being consumed by his flames. Why, you might ask? Because I love him. Everything about him, he’s my beautiful spark. I love him.” ~ y/n. February, 15th.
You were woken up by a nurse’s heels clicking against the concrete floor. Opening your eyes as she pulled back the blinds, officially waking you up. Stretching out in the visitors chair, you looked over to your side, seeing Philip still “asleep” in the hospital bed. You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling a pain, most likely from having spent the night in a very uncomfortable chair.
“You must really love him, Honey,” the older lady in all white said, smiling at you.
“Hmm?” you asked, still waking up mentally.
“Most young ladies wouldn’t stay around for their guy like this,” she stated, “they usually find another boy, saw it all the time during the war, poor guys were heart broken.”
“Well, Philip’s my only,” you smiled over to your curly haired boy, “I could never leave him.”
She nodded respectfully, leaving the room. You moved the chair to the side of his bed, sitting and holding his hand. You kissed his knuckles, still bruised from the fight. Resting your chin on the edge of the bed, you studied his beautiful features. Thinking about all the memories you had with him, he couldn’t leave you. Not yet. Tears pooled in your eyes, just remembering how you had left him, he must’ve been so scared.
“You gonna wake up today?” You whispered, barely able to get the question out. “It’d be a great day to. I could see your smile, and hear your voice. You could-” you had to pause to take a shaky breath, “you could let me know you’re okay and I could tell you I love you.”
Anonymous said: I saw your wonderful blog!! Can I please have a scenario where his s/o fought some villains and was turned into a middle schooler. I think this would be super hilarious. Thank you so much!!!
No, thank YOU so much, Anon! :) I hope you like this one!
Todoroki runs into the smoke still dense from the fight that’d taken place. He exhales deeply, feeling the coldness that spreads through his right side, the result of freezing a villain to the ground seconds ago. His eyes are frantically darting left and right in search of you and the villains that had lured you to another part of the city.
He flinches at your yell, speeding up in the direction of where he’d seen you last, and with a sweep of his surroundings, he catches glints of the colors of your hero costume sticking out through the now fading smoke. Todoroki rushes ahead, squinting both eyes at the silhouette of your body. He should be relieved that he’s found you, but that feeling of unease within him remains.
Something’s not right.
He immediately stops, gaping at the sight of you. Of all quirks… it had to be that quirk.
Standing merely feet away, there you are in your loose-fitting hero costume, which had fit fine before, smaller, shorter, and frowning.
You turn your hands over, examining them front and back, then meet Todoroki’s shocked stare. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, your voice sounding younger and apprehensive, much less lively than Todoroki is used to, and he blinks once.
He doesn’t answer your question. “You’re a middle schooler.” he says, like he’s restating the truth of the circumstances, accepting it for what it is, but at the same time trying to make sense of it.
For the past few weeks, rumors had been spreading locally about a quirk that affected age, but when it’d finally reached his ears, Todoroki hadn’t believed it—until now. His own partner, professional hero turned middle schooler in the span of a villain fight that hadn’t lasted for even an hour.
Shaking his head to snap himself out of his daze, Todoroki looks you over for any injuries, doing so quickly in case someone was to chance upon you both. He doesn’t know about you, but he doesn’t want to be labelled as the hero that likes looking at middle schoolers. But in his defense, he can’t help it since middle schooler or not, you’re still his one and only.
Frustrated, you ruffle your hair. “What do I do, Shouto? If the police, no, if the civilians see me like this…”
The hell with it, no one’s around, Todoroki thinks, moving to bring you closer and in his arms. With his hands cupping your face, he kisses your forehead before pulling back to say, “We can have the police question the villains about their quirks,” he turns to glance at the two unconscious villains on the ground. “…after they wake up.”
Intending to hug Todoroki, you reach for his waist, and just when you’re ready to relish in his warmth, you retract your hands as a police officer, coughing from the leftover smoke, suddenly appears. He offers a friendly wave to Todoroki, who immediately switches his stance, making it seem as if he’s only (awkwardly) patting your back.
“It’s the hero, Shouto! Wow, am I—oh, who’s this?” Cheery, the police officer walks up to the both of you, directing his attention to you particularly. “Hey kiddo, did this guy here save you?” He jabs a thumb in Todoroki’s direction.
You nod a bit too enthusiastically. “He did!”
The officer laughs, distracted, and Todoroki sends you an annoyed face, to which you disregard, continuing, “You should’ve seen him freezing that villain!”
Unwilling to interrupt your “fun,” Todoroki sighs, brushing back white hair that’d fallen out of place. The villains yet to be detained would have to wait, and while that causes him concern by itself, he’s more concerned about that smile you’d had just now.
“Are you a fan of his?” asks the officer, and you pause, rubbing your chin, doing this for a moment in thought.
“Yeah, I’m going to marry him someday!” you answer finally, satisfied, pretending the icy look Todoroki has on isn’t aimed at you.
He watches you pose for the police officer, imitating some made-up hero, and groans low enough for himself not to be heard.
He really hopes that damn quirk’s effects wear off soon.