I was tagged by @hemminicky! Thanks ❤

Rules: tag nine people with excellent taste

Colors I’m currently wearing: white and green with pink accents

Last band t-shirt I bought: don’t think i’ve ever bought a band t-shirt

Last band I saw live: Ed Sheeran, who isn’t exactly a band

Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstick

Last song I listened to: probably a Lorde song

Last movie I watched: The Incredibles 2

Last 3 TV shows I watched: Brooklyn 99, Parks & Rec, Good Behavior

Book I’m currently reading: the last book in the Iron Breakers series

Tagging @jsteneil @aminiyard @madam-kyoubin and whoever else wants to do it! 

spokenfromtheheartandsoul:

Shout out to Coach Hernandez, though. If it hadn’t been for him, the entire trilogy wouldn’t have even happened.

I always wonder what he’s up to? Like here’s this regular high school Exy coach who’s got the enigma that is Neil Josten on his team. He’s a quiet kid who learned Exy in one year, a kid who says he’s got parents, but they don’t show up to any games, a kid who can pick the doorlock to sleep in the locker room at night.

So he does the best he can without prying too much and instead he tries to set Neil up with a future, away from Millport. He doesn’t even tell Neil about it just in case but he even sends a tape instead of statistics because he knew how to sell Neil’s strengths, because he knows that actually seeing Neil play is something on another level.

And then imagine him watching in awe as the Palmetto State Foxes – a team that had been the joke of the Class I Division, a team that was literally last ranked! Imagine him watching in awe as it slowly rises to the top of the game, all in one season. Imagine him watching Neil play as starting striker alongside Kevin Day. His Neil! From his high school team!

Imagine him watching in shock as this quiet kid – who probably hadn’t spoken more than 3 sentences to him at a time back at Millport – imagine Hernandez watching as Neil absolutely verbally rips apart and challenges Riko Moriyama on national television, tells him that Riko’s going to choke on his own words.

Imagine him watching in wonder as Neil Josten develops into a striker that’s scary good, a striker that couldn’t have possibly improved that much in just a few months, a striker that can hold the floor with Kevin Day. 

Imagine him hearing about the news about Neil’s past on the media, hearing things about gangs and murders and son of a crime boss, seeing him in pictures and thinking I could have sworn he had brown eyes and imagine him wondering who the hell this kid that he coached actually was? 

Imagine Hernandez watching with his jaw open as his high school recruit, Neil Josten hold his own for a full game as a starting striker, then watching Neil switch in the middle of the game without a break and play an incredible defense, all against Edgar fucking Allan – the number one team, a team that has never been debunked in history – and fucking win. They fucking won. All in one season.

And imagine him years later down the line, sitting on his couch and watching Neil Josten and a few of his original PSU teammates win gold at the Olympics. 

He might have thought it was just a small thing that he did, but just by that simple act of sending Neil’s information to Wymack, he changed the course of Neil’s life. Hernandez completely changed the outlook of Neil’s future – by giving him one at all. So, shout out to you, Coach Hernandez. Without you Neil would have never gotten that second chance to live his life, find a family, and play Exy.

spanglebangle:

@aokazusei : Mermaide au?

This was fun 😀 warnings for inhuman/human kissing I guess?

“Andrew!” Nicky hissed and darted forward. Andrew sighed.
Looks like his grand plan of sneaking off unnoticed had a hitch already. “Where
are you going?”

“Out,” Andrew whispered, holding onto a firm coral at the
edge of the cave so he wouldn’t go floating sideways in his cousin’s
enthusiastic wake.

“Are you going to see that human?”

“It’s really none of your business, Nicky,” Andrew warned,
his tail thrashing a bit in agitation.

Nicky sighed and ran a hand through his long, dark hair. “If
my dad finds out, he’ll find a way to banish you. You know that, right? He’ll
rile everyone up and say you’re endangering the pod.”

“So don’t let him find out. I’ll be back before dawn.”

Nicky looked unhappy, but he nodded. “Fine. Fine. I’ll cover for you. But if he
finds out, I won’t be able to help you. Be careful.”

“You know how much I treasure Luther’s high opinion of me.
And I’m always careful.” With that, Andrew swam away rapidly.

Really, he wasn’t being careful at all, very much not, but
he didn’t want Nicky to point that out. This was pure stupidity and needless
risk, but he’d promised to meet the young man at the edge of the shore under
the moon tonight, and he wasn’t about to go back on his word. The fact he’d
promised in the first place was the really
stupid thing, but that seemed par for the course concerning this particular
human. Andrew had first thought he was some kind of witch, with how easily he
could get under Andrew’s scales and convince him to do things. But no. He was
just intriguing enough that Andrew kept giving way, bending, searching closer.

He picked up a large empty conch shell on his way and
polished it between his hands. He hoped the young man liked it.

And besides, he wasn’t at risk of forsaking his kind and
wandering onto land in search of legs like Nicky seemed to think. Andrew had
plenty of experience with humans already. The horrible kind, who would capture
and keep a frightened merchild in a tank for a few years, trying everything
they knew to make him miserable while they charged admission for people to
stare at him like some kind of exotic animal.

But this young man was different. Or so he was hoping. He
really wanted this one to be different.

Andrew skirted quickly along the coastline until he found a
secluded little beach cove far away from the fires of the fishing village,
where the high cliffs made it difficult for anyone but the most stubborn
landlubbers to get down onto the sand. The sea lapped gently in the little
cove, eddies and swirls not quite deep enough to swallow a human, with soft
white sand and banks of gently waving kelp.

He headed towards the beach slowly, surfacing only enough to
let his eyes scan the shoreline under the silvery light of the moon, looking
for a young man with hair the colour of sunset and eyes like seafoam. He
spotted the young man sitting out on the rocks near the cliff, hidden mostly
from view. He was waist-deep in the water, perched comfortably on the slabs
sinking down into the sloping ocean floor.

Andrew did another quick scout to make sure they were alone,
then eased up out of the water next to the young man. He braced his arms on the
rock ledge by his hip and fixed him with a calm, cool look.

“Hello,” Neil smiled. “I missed you.”

“Hello,” Andrew returned neutrally, though his heart was
thudding traitorously in his chest. He looked so pretty under starlight, like a
sea creature bathing in phosphorescence.

“I have a gift for you,” Neil said, and held out a small
piece of rock. Andrew examined it, unimpressed until his fingers found the
grooves and indentations along one side; a fossil, some kind of ancient snail
trapped in a slab of rock that must have fallen out of the cliff after a storm.
Andrew tried not to look too pleased as he tucked it into a pouch on his belt
made of seaweed. He silently handed over the shell and watched as Neil stroked
his strange, separated fingers all over the smooth inside, admiring the blushing
peach colour of the inside lip of the conch and the rough bumpy exterior.

Andrew edged closer, uncaring of the chill of the ocean air
on his bare arms and back. He watched Neil’s legs waving in the current, all
strange bones and angles. They were bare, though he wore some cloth around his
hips and a loose shirt for modesty. Andrew didn’t care for the human concept of
clothes; he saw nothing strange about his bare skin or scales, and had never
understood why it was different on land. And he would have liked to see Neil’s
skin under the moonlight, too.

“I want to touch your legs,” Andrew asked after a few
minutes of companionable quiet. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil smiled. “Can I touch your fin?”

Andrew nodded and swam between Neil’s legs as he parted them
further. He planted his hands firmly on the wet rock either side of Neil’s hips
and pulled himself closer. It put their chests and faces very close together,
but neither of them minded. Neil’s body was pouring off heat and Andrew could
never resist inching just a bit closer each time, feeling it like the warmth of
the sun after living in the cool embrace of the ocean. He supposed he must feel
clammy and cold in comparison, but Neil never complained. He seemed to relish
being allowed to touch, in fact.

He stroked his hands gently over Neil’s limbs, admiring the
strangeness and the lack of scales. He felt out muscles and bones and sinew,
working his blunt fingertips into them to map out the structures. Neil sighed
and trailed his own fingers carefully over Andrew’s spiny dorsal fin, stroking
the delicate webbing and thin bones. Andrew gently pushed and pulled at Neil’s
legs, figuring out the range of motion in his joints. It made Neil laugh, and
after a few minutes he shyly wrapped his legs around Andrew’s waist where skin
blended into scales, his bizarre ankles and feet resting on the thick length of
Andrew’s tail. He squeezed his thighs with a blush, and Andrew could feel the
strength in him, and the wonderful way their bodies locked together.

“Is this okay?” Neil asked, his fingers stroking gently up
Andrew’s back into his hair. “I feel less like I’m about to float away.”

Andrew nodded; he felt like he was basking in the midday
sun, with the heat of Neil’s legs and arms wrapped around him like some kind of
strange octopus. And he could touch all over Neil’s legs now. He reached up the
backs of them to the squashy muscles at the back that helped Neil walk, and
Neil gave a startled laugh and pulled him closer with his legs sliding warmly
over Andrew’s tail.

They were close enough to share breath now, and Andrew got
distracted looking at the way the starlight made Neil’s eyes seem silver.

All Andrew could think was that he really, really wanted to
kiss this man. And from the way Neil was staring at his mouth and stroking his
hair, he thought maybe the feeling was mutual. He swallowed nervously. Humans
were bad, he knew this very well, humans would only hurt. But what about this
particular human? Maybe… maybe…

It hurt so much to hope, but it hurt more not to know.

He licked his lips and absently petted Neil’s knee where it
sat under his ribs. “Come swimming with me.”

“I can’t breathe underwater,” Neil reminded him softly,
curling Andrew’s hair around his fingers in a most distracting way.

Andrew slowly took a breath. Time to be brave. “I’ve heard
that a mermaid’s kiss will give a human an hour of air.”

Neil blinked in surprise, and Andrew could feel the heat of
his face when he blushed. “Would it work with a merman?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Neil bit his lip shyly, eyes shining bright. “Okay. Take me
swimming.”

Oh, tides and waves,
Andrew thought nervously as he slowly leaned forward. Their noses bumped first,
Andrew’s cold flat one brushing up against the button of Neil’s. Then their
chins, then their cheekbones. And finally, finally, their lips touched for just
a second; it startled them both for a second, and Andrew had to work up his
nerve all over again to plant a longer, firmer kiss on Neil’s pretty mouth. Neil
made a soft, vulnerable sound that had Andrew’s bones humming with startled
pleasure, and Neil’s legs tightened and shifted around him needily.

“Do you want to try swimming now?” Andrew asked against his
parted lips.

“Maybe,” Neil breathed, “Maybe one more kiss? Just to make
sure.”

Andrew wholeheartedly agreed and slowly dragged their lips
together again, feeling tingling sweetness and warmth everywhere Neil was
touching him.

“One more?”

Andrew was more than happy to oblige, and it was a long time
before Neil joined him under the water.