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#I trust my crabs to know how to stay out of the wet part so as long as it doesn’t startmouldy
konmari-dogs · 3 years
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One day I’ll discover the secret of how people keep their tanks so clear
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joonsrack · 3 years
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Good boy | KNJ drabble
+Pairing: Namjoon x Reader(gender neutral)
+Rating: 18+
+WC: 1.5k
+Warning: NSFW, Sub!Joon, Dom!reader, Gender neutral reader, unresolved sexual tension, sex toys, unfinished, like it cuts off pretty abruptly.
+A/N: I found this in my google docs and i knew that if i didn’t post it right now i never would. So here it is. I might reuse it in a fic someday. Sorry for the abrupt cut :P unbetaed so don’t look too hard pls thank you.
also this is the title past me gave the doc which made present me lol
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You’re both laughing and giggling as you go up to Namjoon’s dorm room, trying not to trip on your feet as you run up the stairs, taking them two by two. The A/C is quickly becoming a problem, your skin breaking out in goosebumps as the wet clothes you’re both wearing go from being wet, to uncomfortably wet and cold.
The car wash had been a success, raising enough funds for your team project in a single afternoon, and then it’d seemed like a good idea to celebrate by drenching everyone with the water hose. The lack of towel had quickly made itself noticeable, forcing everyone to disperse and find a way to dry themselves off. For you and Namjoon, it was pretty clear your destination would be his dorm room. It was closer than yours, and Namjoon has a nice collection of plush and soft towels, courtesy of his mom.
You’re almost sad when you make it to the door, disappointed that you’ll lose the sight of Namjoon’s clothes completely plastered to his body, leaving not one inch to the imagination. He has an impressive body, one that’s been making heads turn for the last few months, ever since he started working out with Jungkook. You’d love his body whatever shape it may be, but the definition he has gained in his chest, and arms, and especially his thighs, is definitely a sight to behold. The way the muscles work as he walks, runs, squats, or kneels… You’ve found yourself staring at them more and more these days. And the short shorts he has on right now, stopping at his mid-thighs, letting just a hint of his thigh tattoo peek out, it’s definitely not leaving you indifferent.  
The moment you step into the dorm, you hang back behind to watch him undress, a familiar sensation tickling up your spin at the sight of your lover taking off his shirt, leaving him clad in his godforsaken shorts and glistening sun-kissed skin. Just as he digs his thumbs in his waistband, you snap out of the trance you were falling into.
“Stop.” You say simply, catching his attention and halting his undressing process. 
You have nowhere to be in the immediate moment, no one waiting for you, nothing pressing to finish or study for. You’ve spent all afternoon being teased by the sight of your sub parading around with his amazing body basically on display, looking worthy of being in a pin-up magazine with his wet white t-shirt and his terrible, terribly short red shorts.
He recognizes the look in your eyes, wetting his lips with a quick drag his tongue as the air in the room turns heavier, warming up.
He shifts his body towards you, be it consciously or unconsciously, and you take yet another moment to admire his amazing physic, wondering who you saved in your past life to have a boyfriend like Namjoon, who likes to let you tie him up and wreck him just right.
“How do you want me?” He asks, voice going slightly lower than usual as arousal probably grows in the pit of his stomach. 
He’s so beautiful, so responsive to your will, so perfect in every way. You want to kiss every inch of his gorgeous face, bite every bit of his lips, and leave traces all over his body. You want to mark up his chest and strong hips and thighs and calves and ankles. You want to hear him whine and moan, you want to make him whine and moan. 
“Get on the bed.” You answer simply, taking your sweet time to walk to his dresser, eyes never leaving him as he complies with your demand. You enjoy the sight of his muscles bulging as he positions himself in the middle of the bed, sitting on his heels with his hands on his thighs, waiting for more orders like the good boy he is.  His shorts are still soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind that they’ll dampen his sheets; they probably won’t be dry after you’re done with him anyway, wet shorts or not. Your playtimes tend to get messy.
You get what you need from the second drawer, hidden in the back behind his graphic tee, where he keeps his stash of goodies. There’s everything you need for improvised scenes in there, but for the more complicated stuff, scenes that demand a level of preparation, you usually go to yours. Living out of campus has its perks, like decently thick walls that won’t expose your activity to the whole building. 
“Are you going to need help to keep quiet?” You ask as an afterthought, eyeing the little gold satin bag containing his favorite ballgag. “You have to keep quiet or else your neighbor will glare at me, again.”
This seems to confuse Namjoon for a second, head tilting as if trying to answer a math problem. “Jimin? I don’t know why he would do that, it’s not like we’re the only one fucking here.”
You decide against it, a part of you loving how mad it drives your boyfriend’s neighbor to hear you pleasure Namjoon. In some twisted way, it’s like you’re letting him know how good you’re taking care of him, and how nonexistent his chances are at seducing your boyfriend. 
“Oh baby, he’s not bothered by the noise, he’s jealous he’s not the one pulling them out of you.” You purr, closing the drawer with an elbow.
You feel a rebuttal coming, and you quickly drop the content of your hands on the mattress to push a finger against Namjoon’s plush lips, silencing his doubts. 
“You might not have noticed, but I see the way he looks at you, and it’s definitely not in a friendly manner.” You shush him, possessiveness bubbling in your stomach.
There’s a fine blush appearing on Namjoon’s cheeks, which makes you want to coo. But you can’t wait to extend this flush all over his body, so you don’t waste any more time.
“Lay on your back, hands by your head, leg spread.” You order, moving away to leave him the space he needs to assume his new position. He executes quickly, his eagerness making you bite back a smile, and you take a moment to admire his long body laid out in front of you, twitching and begging to be touched. Namjoon trusts you to take care of him, and you always make sure to leave him satisfied.  
“What’s your safe word, baby boy?” You inquire, voice soft but commanding in the rising tension of the room. 
“Crab.” He states, his beautiful eyes meeting yours, twinkling with anticipation. You can see the rise and fall of his chest has gotten quicker, a tent in his shorts already noticeable. He’s probably the most responsive sub you’ve ever met (in your admittedly very short career, but still), always ready to go at a moment’s notice. Once he told you it was because of you, that he had never had this kind of response to anyone else before. You remember making him come many times that night, as a treat. 
You start by leaning over him, sealing your lips to his in a tender kiss to which he responds with a low whine, frustrated by the torturous pace you set. You take your fill of his lips, sucking and biting, earning yourself all sort of cute noises.
“Your hands stay exactly where they are, understood?” You say as you break the kiss, grinning at the way he chases after you. You press him back down with one hand to his chest, a chastising look in your eyes.
“Yes.” He nods eagerly, relaxing his body to lay perfectly still. 
You reward him by pressing a kiss to his jaw, then following the line of his neck to his gorgeous collarbone. You gently dig in your teeth in the taut skin, not hard enough to leave a mark yet, just enough for Namjoon to feel it. You hear a sharp intake of air, and you soothe the skin with your tongue, enjoying the slightly salty tang from a day spent working in the sun.  
You carry on with your ministration, trailing down his torso until you get to a nipple, the peak hardened and looking biteable. You waste no second diving in, kissing and teasing with your teeth the darker skin, swirling your tongue around the peak, pulling from Namjoon some delicious moans. He loves having his nipple played with, always gets whiny from the attention. 
You reach for the first toy; a set of fancy nipple clamps. 
You secure the first clamp on the one you just spent a good minute abusing, then you pinch the second one, getting it nice and puffy. You can see how tense Namjoon is, straining to stay still, how his back wants to arch off the bed; 
But he doesn’t, because he’s a good boy.
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thebibliomancer · 3 years
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Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance #10
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The Journey into the Mondo Levidian Part 2
The true untold tale of All-Maudra Mayrin’s inaugural adventure!
Well, untold in the show. Comic is telling plenty.
In part one, Mayrin becomes All-Maudra and has plenty of unresolved mother issues and insecurity about it. Her first crisis is the growing Sifan separatist movement which threatens to shatter Gelfling solidarity and make her more of a Most-Maudra. She charters a ride with Captain Kam’Lu to go speak to the separatist leader Fenth but the ship goes and sinks.
So far we’ve had a journey so far but not into or Mondo Levidian. We probably should get around to that soon. There’s only three issues left.
So let’s get started!
When the ship sank, Mayrin jumped overboard to save Kam’Lu. Now they’re stranded in the middle of the ocean on a raft.
Mayrin is insistent that they try to find and save the crew of the Scalene Anchor and also Dot. Kam’Lu is equally insistent that No That’s A Terrible Idea. They have no food, no water, and no hope of survival unless they’re lucky enough to find land. They’re in no position to rescue anyone else. Plus...
There are political considerations.
Kam’Lu: “If the other clans believe the Sifans killed the All-Maudra, we’ll never be trusted again.”
He also mentions that Fenth predicted that THIS EXACT SITUATION might happen if the All-Maudra intervened in the Sifan separatist movement.
Huh.
Speaking of Fenth, the plot cuts over to him for a bit.
He learns of the sinking the Scalene Anchor and the presumed death of the New-All-Maudra and thinks hey, its free real estate.
High Councilor Fenth: “That means... There’s no one in line for the All-Maudra’s throne! The seat is vacant!”
skekSa: “How... fortunate! Haha! Ha! Haha! You wanted autonomy for the Sifans! Freedom from the greedy hands of the Vapra clan, yes? That is why honored me with this grand tithing -- to enlist my immortal aid? I am the only one who is sympathetic to your cause. That is why the Skeksis are here. To help Gelfling lead...!”
Call it a shot in the dark but I feel like skekSa was involved in the suspicious sea monster sinking of the Scalene Anchor.
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Of course, she’ll probably get away with it. It’d spoil the surprise too early if a Skeksis was caught doing an evil scheme.
Also, look at the ambition on Fenth. Grows up in a matriarchy where clan leaders are always women, where the word for clan leader means ‘clan mother’ and thinks to himself ‘psssh i can do that.’ Good on him. Dream big, guy.
Back over with our mismatched comedy duo, as all Dark Crystal stories must have, Mayrin and Kam’Lu have some mismatched comedy duo banter.
Like her criticizing him for not being able to find land despite being a captain of a ship. And then immediately spotting land while he’s indignantly defending his credentials.
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Or her maligning his swimming abilities since he fell off a boat and got knocked unconscious and had to be saved from drowning by her.
So he decides to turn this into a swimming contest, winner gets to be All-Maudra.
Good fun.
Just how I like my Gelfling buddy comedies.
Of course, its all fun and games until the island turns out to be a sea monster that eats them.
And it turns out that the island is a sea monster that eats them.
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A mondo levidian, if I had to guess.
Giant turtles passing as landscape. Giant monsters being mistaken for islands. This comic series is too good to me.
So the two slide down the mondo levidian’s throat (gross) MANAGING TO BICKER ON THE WAY DOWN!
Kam’Lu: “Don’t you have wings?!”
Mayrin: “They don’t work well when they’re wet!”
Amazing.
They slide and slorp and flump all the way down to presumably the stomach.
But as they stop to rest, they realize they’re not alone.
Sulub: “Yer some kinda fishie-fish I ain’t ever seen! Betchur tasty! Anyway! No wrigglin’ while I kill ya good!”
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OH MY GOD
This comic series is too good to me.
Look at this delightful podling crabtaur.
Once Kam’Lu proves immune to Sulub’s “advanced technology” (ie Sulub stabs Kam’Lu in the foot with a spear), the podcrab agrees to take the two Gelfling to see his village elder.
Sulub actually assumes that Mayrin and Kam’Lu are married and here on honeymoon at the thriving fish digestive system tourism industry I guess. Mayrin claims that Kam’Lu is just a fool and her servant (and Kam’Lu doesn’t speak Podling very well so has no idea about this) and introduces herself as the All-Maudra.
Sulub: “ALL-MAUDRA! The legendary All-Maudra! Well, why didn’t ya say so! Sulub is gilltickled and downright honored to lead ‘the all-powerful and all-knowing’ All-Maudra to our home. You’ll be enjoyin’ to know we’ve kept care of your most regal gifts! Still in pristine condition for havin’ come in a while ago!”
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The gut city of Bajula has a statue of the previous All-Maudra, one apparently commissioned when Mayrin was baby.
Huh.
Well. Its helpful to Mayrin that they know about the All-Maudra and are excited to have her here. And that they’re assuming that she sent the statue ahead of herself, like luggage.
Sulub tours Mayrin and Kam’Lu around Bajula. Showing them the goo farms, the visitor center, the fermented... milk wine bar.
The king shows up and is disappointed that the Gelfling want to leave so soon into their visit and asks if Sulub even bothered to show them the goo farms!
But since Mayrin insists that they have important outside stuff to do outside, the king decides to rush through some exposition.
These podling crabs? They’re called Boblings.
Bobling King: “Thousands of trine ago, my tribe set out to explore the Silver Sea as proud, stalwart Podlings! Our regal forefathers were not known to swim, but their bravery was unmatched, and they set out to conquer everything they discovered! All those who would get in their way would be destroyed by the might of the Podlings! Yet there are creatures in this world that are mightier, and the Mondo Leviadin emerged from the Silver Sea and devoured their ships. Thousands of digestive cycles passed as we changed to better suit our new home. Our new world.”
An unstoppable army of Podlings sounds funny until you remember how awesome Hup is. The Mono Levidian may have spared the peoples of Thra a tragic fate.
Also, I’m a big impressed at the lack of linguistic drift. Thousands of trine and Bobling language is indistinguishable from Podling and Gelfling is still recognizable.
Kam’Lu gets fed up with the Bobling King and starts yelling that he’s cold, he’s hungry, he doesn’t want to be in a fish’s guts! Mayrin manages to convince the king by speaking of duty.
Bobling King: “You speak of duty. I know it well. As a leader of my kind, I would do anything for their survival. So yes, I will help you and your servant. Why you married him, I will never know.”
Kam’Lu: “Her what? We’re what?!”
Hah, that misunderstanding is paying dividends.
The king explains that the levidian only surfaces to feed once per trine and that it stays near the surface for a time after feeding.
So if Mayrin and Kam’Lu don’t get to the porticol (blowhole) within eight or so intestinal groans (.... hours??), they’ll be stuck until next trine.
WHICH IS GOING TO BE REAL BAD FOR MAYRIN’S CAREER.
Even though the Boblings are but a simple goo-farming people, the king sends his daughter Gunda, the most skilled hunter in Bajula, to escort them.
Gunda: “But father, the journey as never been done by a single Bobling. You send me into certain danger!”
King: “And do you not crave danger?! My daughter, you are the only one capable and brave enough to undertake such a quest! Please! A duty for your king!”
Gunda: “So be it. I will guide you to the porticol, but know that it is dangerous and uncharted. There are many creatures that call this place home. We must be vigilant. Stalwart. Like my podling ancestors!”
This is a fun little bit because it implies a life and experiences and that these Boblings haven’t just been sitting waiting for protagonists to show up. I mean, they also have been doing that. They have a visitor center set up. But they’ve been living their own dramas.
And off they go! Mayrin, Kam’Lu, and Gunda! On a grand journey to a giant sea monster’s blowhole!
Wait, is this thing a mammal?
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So that’s issue 2.
We’re finally in the Mondo Levidian. And now all the protagonists want is to get out. So we’ve got the title, we’ve got an objective, we’ve got some fun side cast, we’ve got a ticking clock before Mayrin and Kam’Lu have to look at the sea monster gut apartment listings, and we’ve got some outside stakes!
Mayrin continues to impress. There’s even a moment right when Kam’Lu rouses after the shipwreck where he seems in awe of her confidence in a crisis.
Kam’Lu has his own personality now that’s not parroting Fenth. Its being a butt monkey, with a slight shade of being a little shit. Between Mayrin giving him shit for supposedly being bad at sailor stuff to getting stabbed in the foot by Boblings twice to being mistaken for Mayrin’s servant-husband, Kam’Lu is having a trying adventure. Plus his ship sank and all of his friends may be dead and if they fail to escape the Mondo Levidian, he’ll go down in history as the idiot that got an All-Maudra killed.
Poor guy.
Gunda has only had two pages to shine and she seems endearing! But it feels weird that Sulub isn’t coming along. He’s the introductory Bobling and all. But I guess speaking only Podling would be an impediment to interacting with Kam’Lu. Still, its weird that he just seems to fade out of the story once the king shows up.
Farewell, Sulub, you funky crab potato.
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olivyh · 3 years
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Into Wonderland Chapter 3: Octavinelle Part One-
Does anyone know how to do a dropdown thing? I feel bad about these posts filling up a chunk of the tag ;;;; Also sorry for the spam! I’m trying to publish what I already have done so I can finish it quickly!
They choke on sand that fills their mouth, sputtering and coughing as they gag. Seagulls screech ahead, diving into the water that crashes just a few feet short of their feet. Mc groans, rubbing their head as they look around. They seem to be at the bottom of a rocky cliff, at a beach.
About as far from the Savanah they'd been since they got there. They stand and look around frantically. Dread filling their gut as tears prick at their eyes.
"Nonono-" They mutter, pulling at the tunic they were gifted by Leona just hours ago. "Leona!" They yell, choking on their tears. This can't be happening again- They think hopelessly. "Jack!" They scream, running along the shoreline, hoping to find a way to get on top of the cliff, hopefully they'd see all the beastmen standing there and scolding them for doing something stupid again and- I'm never going to see them again. It's just like what happened in Wonderland. "Ruggie!" They choke out with a harsh sob.
"Ten years!" They yell to nobody in particular, hoping that whatever deity that keeps doing this to them will hear and start counting their days. "Ten fucking years! I was only in Wonderland for a day and a half! But ten years?!" They groan, doubling over and letting all their emotions out via screaming at seagulls, the ocean, and an unfortunate crab that might crawl by.
"Hey-" They gasp hearing a teenage boy's voice behind them. They jolt, Savanah instincts kicking in and making them accidentally bitch slap the blue haired boy.
"Oh my gosh I'm so so sorry-" They run over to the boy, who nurses his red cheek with his hand, wincing. "I'm just lost and something happened and I woke up here- Deuce?"
Laughing sounds from the top of the shore bank, and the two of them look up to see a redhead boy laughing to the point of tears and pointing at the blue haired boy. "Ace?"
That makes both of them stop in their tracks. "How do you know my name?" Right, world switching logic.
"Uhh- I knew someone back where I'm from with the same name and you look alike-" They decided to leave out the part where they both had rabbit ears.
"Right..." Deuce interjects. "Anyways. I'm Prince Deuce Spade and this is my advisor, Ace Trappola-"
"Oh my god I just slapped a prince-" They gasped, hands flying to their mouth. Ace laughs.
"Eh kinda helped me out there. You have no idea how many times I want to hit this guy but I can't-" Barking interrupts him from going on any longer. They turn their attention to a white wolf standing on the bank. Is that-
"Oh! And that's Jack!" Deuce introduces them. "Normally we're not allowed to have pets at the castle but I found him when he was a pup and took him in-"
"Thats because you don't have to clean up after him-" Ace mutters.
"Jack..." They smile, glad to at least see a form of their companion of the Savanah. Thinking of the beastmen feels like a knife to their chest and they gasp, tears trickling down their face.
"Hey! Hey!" Deuce is at their side in an instant as they apologize and wipe at their eyes with the backs of their hands. "What's the matter? Did- Did we say something?"
They shake their head. "It's not- it's not that. I just- I'm from really far away and I- I might never see my friends again, at least not for a long while," Jack walks up to them and nudges against their leg, allowing them to pet behind his fluffy ears. They laugh weakly, more tears streaming down their face at the familiarity.
"Jack reminds me a lot of one of my friends so I guess that got me-"
Ace and Deuce stare in shock, Deuce being knocked out of his trance before the former. "I-I'm so sorry-" He stammers before pausing for a moment.
"Hey, why don't you come with us on a trip?"
"What?!" Ace shouts.
"They're clearly upset about being away from their friends!" He defends the stranger. "Besides, we're going to see the neighboring islands and they might know something about where they're from-"
"But it's a stranger! They could try to kill you!" Ace groans.
"Jack trusts them-" He points to the dog, who still happily accepts Mc's head pats, bushy tail wagging behind him.
"He's a dog!" Ace groans as Deuce leads them across the beach. They walk for what feels like forever with the two bickering next to them, until they hit a dock with a giant ship floating at the end.
"This thing is huge..." They gasp in awe, almost tripping over their own two feet as they ascend on to the ship.
"Of course. It's a royal vessel-" Jack runs ahead of them. They talk for a bit, finally setting sail and going on their long awaited journey.
What happens if I do find them? Mc asks themselves, doubting their own hope. I hope they're okay, I mean- Leona almost died! They go on with their worried about their friends, replaying those last moments over and over in their head until it spins.
Until they hear a wet smack and a pained groan from the side of the ship.
"Ow!" A boys voice yelps from the side. Mc rushes over, leaning over the railing and making eye contact with the redheaded boy who clings to the side of the ship, his sea green tail flopping uselessly against the harsh winds of the ocean.
"You're-" They gape.
He lets out another yelp, slowly turning. His worried sky blue eyes crinkle as he offers a nervous smile. "I'm- I'm sorry! I shouldn't be here y'know maybe I shouldn't be talking at all I should be gone by now-" He rambles until Mc cuts him off, sitting with their back to him.
"Don't worry I won't rat you out-" They try to joke. "I'm just curious."
"Oh! I'm curious too!" As the boy says that his eyes trail over to the navy haired boy, who laughs and dances with the other teens on board. Jack sits across the deck, ever watchful eyes keeping track of anyone who might look suspicious.
"Of... Deuce?"
"Is that his name?" The boy sighs. Mc nods, looking between the two. "Name... Oh! I'm Rielle!" The boy extends a cold hand towards Mc, who hesitantly shakes it, careful of the soft webbing between each finger.
"Mc." They nod, looking at the boy.
"Hey uh.. quick question-" Mc starts. The boy turns his attention to them once more, tiktong his head. "Are there... eel... uhh..."
"Eel mers?" Rielle finishes.
They nod vigorously. "Yes!"
"Well... there's mers of every kind I guess. It's hard to find a strictly eel mer... or a mer of just one species for one!"
"What do you mean?"
"Most mer, like myself, are mixed so much that our tails rarely match up with one species of fish. Though, if you live in an area with a lot of sharkmer you'll probably find a pureblooded sharkmer, a place with a lot of cecaelia you'll find a lot of octomer-" The boy pauses, beaming. "I'm glad I remembered all that from those boring lessons-"
"Oh-" Mc starts, unsure of what to do with all the information they just received.
"Why do you ask?"
"J-just curious-" If they could avoid it, they'd like to stay out of the way of the twins they'd met back in Wonderland.
"Oh okay!" The boy chirps, going back to watching the humans dance on the wooden deck. "Can I ask you a question?" He whispers, voice soft.
"Yeah?"
"What's it like to dance? Or to walk or to-" The boy stammers a bit before sighing.
"Well it's-" They're cut off by a sharp jolt of the ship. On instinct they reach down and hold on to Rielle's forearm, the little bit of slime and small scales making it hard to grasp.
"I'll be fine!" He yells up after the ship screams and threatens to crack. Thunder booms overhead as it rocks and Mc slams against the railing, falling with the mer into the icy water. They let out a scream at the shock of the cold, choking on the water. Rielle grabs their arm and pulls them to a piece of driftwood. They can see the ship on fire out of the corner of their eyes, hazy with smoke and probably the concussion they had from hitting the water at that height. They can hear Deuce yelling, followed by Jack's pained yelps from the burning ship.
The last thing they see before they black out is Deuce throwing Jack off the ship into a lifeboat before plummeting to the sea, to where Rielle's fiery red hair waited just under the surface.
They wake up to a claw poking their cheek. "Hey-!" The claw pokes harder. "Ne- Jade- I think they croaked-"
"Nonsense. They're alive. Look, their tail is moving."
"Hey!" They get a firm smack to the forehead. They gasp and jolt awake, their forehead smacking the one hovering over theirs. The boy yelps and swims back. "Hey! What did ya do that for?!"
"I'm sorr-" They rub their own forehead and look over to see the same pairs of mismatched eyes that haunted their dreams of Wonderland. Really, universe?
"Oh, I'm glad to see your awake-" The softer twin steps forward. "How are you feeling?"
"Good I think-" The go to swing their legs over the ledge of the rock they were laying on, only to find it difficult to separate them. A tail swishes to the side where their legs should be and look down in horror to see that it had replaced them.
"What?!" They shriek, patting at the tail with their hands. Their hands also look discolored, now set with claws and thin webs between their fingers. They gasp and feel water rush in from the sides of their neck.
The twins watch in amusement, with Floyd laughing hysterically and Jade grinning behind his hand. "I hope you don't mind but we took the liberty of testing out a new potion on you. It's rare to get a human specimen around here. I do hope you understand-"
"I- a- po- Specimen!?" They yelp, hitting their head against the roof of the cave as they try to swim with their new tail. They try to stand upright but end up smacking both twins, making them both laugh again.
The human- well, used to be human- hides their face in the hands, humiliation kicking in. "Please stop-"
"Nope~!" Floyd laughs, circling Mc until his tail was tightly wrapped around theirs. His arms wrap around their throat, covering their gills. They try to shimmy out of his grip but end up making him squeeze them tighter instead.
"Can't-" They choke out. "Breathe-"
"Floyd." Jade warns. The other boy pouts but lets them go, not before giving them another rib crushing hug.
"I can't help it! They're so squishy in their new form! They look like a little minnow ready for me to sink my teeth into-" He lets out a high pitched giggle and chills run down their spine.
"We won't eat you, right, Floyd?" The calmer twin swims towards Mc, who still struggles to swim upright to look him in the eyes.
The other twin lets out a long, pained groan and rolls his eyes dramatically. "Riiiight-" He grunts as he flops into a bed of seaweed. "'Zul's orders-"
"Zul?" Mc asks.
"Azul Ashengrotto. The man who made your potion and now, your new boss."
"Boss?!" They yelp. "I never agreed to anything of that sort!"
"Hm? I thought it was fair." Jade hums, grabbing their arms and making them stand upright, moving their tail manually until they can swim straight.
"I mean, ya get to live after that shipwreck, and you get a free potion too-" Floyd begins.
"So it's only fair that you work with us." Jade finishes his twins sentence. Mc sputters and follows them as they leave the cave, swimming haphazardly through the open waters and ducking between large rocks and fish. Floyd practically crushes Mc with how tightly he holds them so they won't run off or swim into something else.
"B-but Rielle was going to save me! He told me to-"
"Rielle?" Floyd interrupts them, making them grumble and wriggle a bit in the eels hold. "Hey, Jade, why does that sound familiar?"
The other twin merely chuckles. "Thats the boy Azul was helping earlier-"
"Helping?" Mc asks. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"Oh he's just great~!" Floyd giggles. "Came into 'Zul's office all lovey dovey and traded his tail and voice for legs!"
"Oh..." Mc sighs. "He did ask me before what it was like to dance-"
"Before?" Jade asks. "This is interesting."
"Mhm!" Floyd laughs as they approach the shoreline. The surface of the water is clearly visible now, and they can see something floating above them. They can see other fish twirling around the boat as if dancing, and soft humming coming from the boat above.
"Floyd." Jade instructs.
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inkedtae · 4 years
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winter letter ⇾ knj, jjk.[A]
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𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ jungkook x reader (f.), namjoon x reader (f.)
𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ angst, pg
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ three months before your wedding, you get fragments of a letter from an old friend.
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 2.1k
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ a lil swearing
𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ Order up! Give it a good stir; enjoy!
⤑ le playlist
◖collab. for @bangtan-dreamland​’s drinks and drabbles event. find original request here.◗
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Crystal snow coats the window pane as it trickles down from gloomy clouds. You wake to find once bare branches and dry roads, heavy and wet with layers of snow. The untreated snow trails fill you with emptiness as the world feels vacant, uninhabited. You’ve been up for hours, watching the sunrise while teacup after teacup nurses your unruly heart. With every inhale and exhale, your lungs only feel further restricted by your rib cage. Bones under flesh, mind over heart, all you feel is pain. 
The six fragments of a letter rest before you on the kitchen table. You drag your gaze away from the frost framed window and read through the paragraphs. You’ve read each horizontally ripped piece a dozen times, trying to fully process the beautifully written sentences. The sender remains anonymous, but you have a good guess on who might be the voice behind this confession. You know his handwriting, know it well enough to be able to deny the obvious possibility that, after two years of silence, the letter carries more than just simple ‘how are you doings.’ With only one more piece left, confirming his identity, you have already gathered that it’s a love letter. 
The first little piece of the letter is dated the day you met Jungkook two years ago. The suspected writer seems to have written it prior to realizing that you’ve already met someone. He seems to be more concerned with the fact that too much time has passed to stay within an arm’s length reach of each other, rather than the presence of someone else in your heart. Rereading the final sentence, you can’t deny hearing your heart whisper his name. 
I love you; I’ve loved you the moment you spilled blueberry yogurt on my white sweater and tried to convince me a bird knocked you over and made you do it.
You can’t believe he still remembers that. It’s not like you have forgotten it, but you just didn’t think he’d remember that day. It wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve met or even saw each other. It was just the first moment the two of you ever exchanged some words.
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It was about three months into your first year of university. Late for your philosophers of literature class, you had rushed through the courtyard with your breakfast, a thing of blueberry yogurt, in your hands. Instead of waiting to get into class to enjoy your yogurt, you decided to open it on your way there. This wouldn’t have been such an issue if you didn’t have two books tucked under your arm and your bag falling off your shoulder. Struggling to peel off the lid while juggling so much, you pulled too hard on the flap and spilled the purple tinted yogurt all over someone’s sweater as you round the corner. 
“Shit,” he hissed as he held the hem of his sweater. 
You gasped, bringing a hand to your lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
A first glance, you didn’t really recognize him. But, as you continued to look between him and the new yogurt stain on his sweater, you started to realize who he was. He was in a couple of your classes, always happening to seat a row in front of you. His wardrobe always mirrored that of a twentieth century poet, but his answers were never that dated. His insights drove the lecture and most times you wondered why he wasn’t the one teaching the class since what he had to say seemed more reasonable and accurate than whatever the professor brought to the table. 
“It-”
“I didn’t mean to do that, I swear! It just… um… it was a bird. Yeah! This stupid bird knocked over my hand,” you lied, avoiding his gaze as you spun this grand tale of how bird are just flying rats and cannot be trusted. “But, you know what? It happened and I’m gonna fix it. I’ll clean it right now, okay? Just stay still,” you said as you dug into your bag for a tissue. You fumbled with your books under your arm and the half empty yogurt container in your hand as you rummaged your free hand around in your bag. 
“I can just-”
“Hold these!” You ordered, shoving your books into his hands. You placed the yogurt container on top of the books then turned back to your bag. “Don’t let the books touch the yogurt,” you muttered as you pulled out more books and shoved them in his hands to hold. 
He sighed, sarcastically replying, “no, because that would just be a disaster.” 
You didn't know he was being sarcastic then. You remember that all you could think in that moment was that you had to clean his cable-knit sweater. It looked so pretty and, from what you saw of his torso, it fit him all too well. It would’ve been a shame to see it ruined. 
Finally finding a tiny pack of tissues, you pulled it out and set your bag down. You tried your best to wipe it all off, but all you ended up doing was rub the yogurt into his sweater, further ruining the fabric. When you ran out of tissues, you finally took a step back to examine your process. Immediately, you noticed that you managed to spread the stain rather than fix it. 
You curled your lips in and hesitantly nodded. “Looks brand new,” you lied before tossing the tissues in the garbage beside you. Meeting his unimpressed eyes, you flashed him a nervous smile and hoped you looked sorry enough to let this all slide. 
“So let me get this straight,” he started. “Some bird happened to see you opening a pack of yogurt and decided to specifically attack you. It knocked over your hand just as you were opening it and made you spill it all over me?” 
The unamused tone of his voice gave you goosebumps. You shifted your weight from foot to foot and nervously asked, “any that’s hard to believe because…?”
His gaze flickered to a glare. You flashed him that anxious smile once more as he began handing  your books back. He took the yogurt pack and tipped it up to you. “I’m taking this as compensation.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” you sighed. “I think it’s important for you to know though that I am not in alliance with the flying rats.”
“You mean the birds?”
“Same thing,” you brushed him off. “I, for one, prefer sea animals.”
“Don’t sea animals sort of fly too since they’re not touching exactly the ground?”
You paused. Shifting your gaze, you tried to rationalize his words. He made a good point, but you were hell bent on making a better one. “Crabs don’t,” you quickly added. “I love crabs and turtles and other ground-touching sea creatures.”
“Turtles sometimes fly if we’re going with your logi-”
“We can go back and forth all day, but the point is I feel for you because I ,too, hate birds and the things they make us do.”
He sighed, narrowing his eyes on you. He licked his lip then offered the yogurt back to you. You looked between him and the food, raising a brow. “I have a class right now and my professor doesn’t allow food,” he explained. 
“But what about your compensation?”
He smirked. “You’re smart. I’m sure you can come up with a way to make it up to me.”
Accepting the yogurt back, you silently thanked him. He only nodded and pulled out a deep blue pen. Opening your Scorates book, he jotted down his name and number on the first page. “Let me know what you come up with,” he smiled. 
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You twirl the engagement ring as the memory floods your mind once more. It’s been six years. He’s held onto these feelings for six years, only finally making them known to you three months before your wedding. You sent him an invitation thinking you were inviting an old friend. Now, you know you’ve reopened a chapter he has decided to close two years ago. 
The part that surprises you, however, is the fact that you don’t regret inviting him, even after knowing how he feels. It should fill you with guilt, with distress, but instead it just makes you crave his presence. 
Getting up from your seat, you make your way to the bookshelves in the living. Scouring the shelves, you find the book you’re looking for. You pull out the book on Socrates, flipping to the first page. His name and number stare back at you, and you suddenly have a hankering for blueberry yogurt. 
Two sharp knocks rap against the front door. You snap your head towards it, shutting the book. Looking down the hall to your shared room with Jungkook, you find him still fast asleep. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes you. Quickly, you make your way to the door. An envelope falls from the space between the edge of the door and the frame the moment you open it.
Only your name’s scratched on it in deep blue ink. You take a quick scan up and down the hallway of the apartment, but it remains vacant, not even the wet trail of the winter weather is left behind. You pick up the letter and close the door. 
Tucking the book under your arm, you open the envelope and pull out the last fragment of the letter. His name greets you with a little heart sketched beside it. The notion almost shatters you. You shakily take your seat at the kitchen table, and slide the last piece into place, taping it with the others. 
You sit in Jungkook’s apartment, but you wear Namjoon’s sweater. You have Jungkook’s ring but yearn for Namjoon’s heart. The guilt is starting to creep up on you, prickling your spine with anxious nerves that can’t manage to keep still. 
“Did someone knock on the door?” Jungkook sleepily asks as he shuffles out of your shared room. 
Moving quicker than you ever have in your life, you fold up the taped up letter and shove it in the book. “Huh?”
Jungkook rests his hands on your shoulders, and kisses the top of your head. “Someone at the door?” he repeats, lips against your hair. 
You gulp, slowly melting into his touch. “No.”
He hums, circling around the table to enter the kitchen. “Thought I heard knocking.”
You drum your hands on the table, trying to imitate the knocks left moments ago. He nods his head, flashing you a little smirk. Getting some coffee prepared, he asks, “want some, babe.”
You shake your head and pick up the book, returning it to its place. Turning around, you find Jungkook leaning against the shelf, arms crossed over his chest. 
“Go on.”
“What?”
“Tell me what’s got you pouty.”
“I’m not pouty!”
He smirks, gaze flickering from your wide eyes to your pout. He tongues his cheek, cocking a brow as if silently asking you to try again. He could see right through you, this you know all too well. It’s the reason why you stayed as quiet as you could the moment you heard his raspy, morning voice. And it’s also the reason, you don’t lie now; well, don’t completely lie. 
“Just thinking about an old friend.”
He curls a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and pushes himself off the shelf. Wrapping his hands around your waist, he gently pulls you close. You can’t help but instantly mold into his frame, leaning your head against his firm chest. Namjoon almost slips right out of your mind, only your eyes fall back on the spine of that book. 
But, as Jungkook rests his chin atop your head, you can’t find it in you to reach out for it anymore. Your heart doesn’t yearn for anything more, anything different. The comfort and safety you feel wrapped in Jungkook’s embrace is not something you can easily replace. 
“Wanna talk about it?”
You shake your head, and inhale his scent. Your blueberry cravings disappear as your desire for strawberries takes over. Pulling back a bit, you reach up on your toes and pull Jungkook into a hug, settling your chin over his shoulder. He doesn’t think too much of the position change, making himself comfortable against you as well. 
From bone to flesh, from mind to heart, all you feel is comfort. Winter letters and missed love confessions linger but you know where your loyalties lie. The possibilities of what could’ve and might’ve will always haunt you but the centainities of the here and now are undeniable. Jeon Jungkook is where you belong. And, as you stare at the crystal snow continuing to fall, you pray that’s  where you’ll stay. 
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note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. 
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generallybarzy · 4 years
Text
smile like sunshine iii
Monday: ~7k words
Previous 
summary: After some family drama being revealed last night and a rude awakening this morning, the last thing you wanted was to spend the day stuck with your family, and Mat has the best solution for that. You run off to be alone together, reminiscing back to the summer of 2008 and each of you trying to understand and control these strange, emerging feelings.
an: Sorry it took so much longer, I appreciate your patience! Honestly not even sure if this chapter has a plot, it’s just slow burn and mutual pining at this point. Things are starting to heat up so there’s a warning for some smutty thoughts ahead ;) 
It’s the summer of ‘19, eleven years after you first met Mat Barzal, and things are bound to be a little different this time around. 
Usually, the first night at the beach was so refreshing after running around like carefree children in the sun the whole day, but falling asleep last night had been no easy task, not with your heart racing and your mind circling around different scenarios- both real and fake- of you and Mat. Already, all the near kisses and comfortable, lingering touches with him throughout the previous day had you feeling butterflies, nervous, and giddy, and longing around him. And after on and off sleep all night, you wanted nothing more than to lie in bed for a bit longer and fantasize, but there was one thing dampening your hopeless romantic mood.
The yelling.
There was a reason you wanted Mat to come with you on this trip. It was the same reason you approached him the first day you met, the same thing that had you thinking back to him years and years afterward. The arguing, the fighting, the tension in the house, the way you'd always end up on your own. Both of your siblings had texted you early this morning, saying they were heading out to their friend’s places, friends the three of you had made after repeated years of coming here, so you were on your own until Mat woke up.
You were at the beach, for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t your parents just hold it together? You threw the pillow over your head and groaned, just trying to drown out the noise of your parents fighting in the other room. Over what- you had no idea, and they probably didn’t know either. Well, they lasted a good 24 hours without fighting, you’d give them that.
There was a small knock on your door, and when you could do nothing but groan in response, it cracked open slightly. “(Y/N)?” Mat poked his head in, hair still soft and messy from sleep, speaking gently, carefully. “Can I come in?” He saw a nod from you and sent you a soft smile. Any other time, you would marvel at how cute and soft Mat looked right after waking up, but you weren’t in the mood for that right now. He closed the door quietly behind him and sat on the edge of your bed in silence. You knew he was here to comfort you, but you didn’t feel so comfortable when you could still hear the arguing in the other room.
Mat’s heart was aching for you. He could see how much it was hurting you to hear your parents yelling, and wanted nothing more than to hold you against him and kiss your cheeks and tell you everything would be okay. He wasn’t going to put himself into your family drama, but part of him was so, so angry at your parents for not being able to hold it together for you and your siblings. He wasn’t quite sure how to help, but he let his hand fall to your leg and rub comfortingly, and as he caught a glimpse of the beautiful scenery outside the window, he knew what you needed. “Want to head outside?”
“Please.”
It was beautiful outside, stuck in that early morning haze where it was all misty and blue and the first glimpses of soft yellow sunlight were only peaking ever so shyly over where the sun hid beneath the horizon, not yet sure if it wanted to rise or not. Waves crashed against the ever-changing shoreline, coming all the way up to lap your ankles at times. You were walking barefoot in the wet sand with Mat, toes sinking in and leaving little prints behind you. His arm was laid across your shoulders, pulling you against his side so that his cologne filled your nose. His T-shirt was all wrinkly and looked like he slept in it, and his exposed arms and legs were already looking all tan and golden even in the dim lighting of the morning. As much as you loved the comforting silence, he must be wondering. “So now you probably get why I wanted to bring someone along on this trip.”
“Yeah.”
There was a second of mutual sighing before you decided to continue.
“They’re great, ya know? I love them, I love my whole family… but separately. Not together. I hate it when they’re together. Does that make me shitty?”
“No, of course not.” He squeezed you closer into his side, tilting his chin down to rest against the top of your head, wanting nothing more than for you to smile again. “You still love them, and I can see how much it hurts to deal with that. I get why you didn’t want to be alone on this trip.”
“I’m used to it. Whenever they’re together this happens. Every year. And we all just… split up and go to our separate friend’s houses. That’s where my siblings are now, and where they’ll probably be all day.”
He was silent for a few more moments before stopping in his tracks so he could properly focus on you, hands smoothing from your shoulders down, down your arms. You gave him a weak smile, but he noticed the tears gathering in your eyes and sighed and sucked up all his courage to pull you against him, arms squeezing around you tightly and chin dropping to your head. “I can’t believe you have to put up with that every year. That’s so shitty. I can’t imagine how it feels.” He knew you probably didn’t want any pity, but he truly, truly felt so hurt for you. “I’m sorry.” There was an excruciatingly long moment where you did absolutely nothing- and Mat worried you were about to push him away- before you wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed back.
“Thanks for being here.”
“Of course.” He stayed still for a moment, just breathing against you and reveling in the feeling of your body pressed against his again like that morning you cuddled in the motel- of course, you had no recollection of that, but it was easily one of his favorite parts of this trip. So far. He was contemplating leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead- Would that be too much? Not platonic enough? She’ll hate me for it. Or she might love it- when you uncurled your arms from his waist. He let go on your cue, not wanting to make it awkward, even though it had already dragged on much too long for just friends.
He stepped back, trying to pretend he hadn’t just been thinking of kissing you, already feeling like this day- this week- was going to be magical, even if you came out still just friends. “So, it’s just us today, huh?”
“It’s just us.”
“Great. Well, I might have an idea…” He paused to think for a moment as if he hadn’t already fantasized and planned this in his head all night. “I know we only have your family’s car here, so I was thinking we could walk to this car rental place I saw nearby and get our own for the week and maybe go someplace further up the beach to be alone.” It sounded truly magical, getting to go out alone with Mat, get away from your family, and just get lost in him- the real him, and not the memory you had been holding on to and reminiscing about for years. But, unfortunately, it just wasn’t realistic.
“There’s no way I can afford to rent a car for the week.”
“I’ll pay.”
“No, Mat, I can’t let you pay for that.”
“Why not? I mean, I have the money. And it was my plan anyway.” He could see how much you wanted to fight for this, but also knew that you wanted nothing more than to get away, so he smiled and wrapped his arm over your shoulders again. “Consider it an early birthday present.”
“I thought the outfit was my early birthday present?” You seemed almost offended that he was spoiling you so badly, and it was kinda cute.
“There’s plenty more to come, (Y/N).” You smiled, biting your lip in that way you did when you were excited, and Mat couldn’t help but smile back. “Speaking of presents...” You saw him reach into his pocket out of the corner of your eye but thought nothing of it until he was reaching out a closed fist to give something to you. His hand hovered over top of yours for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, but you were too lost in the swirls of honey and green of his eyes and the warmth of his hand to notice the mischievous sparkle and the smirk on his face. His hand opened above yours.
“Ew! What the hell?!”
You may have reacted a little dramatically, shrieking shortly and jumping against Mat’s body as you tossed the dead crab to the ground in disgust, but you couldn’t help it. A dead crab??? That was so gross. You wanted to yell at him for ruining what was a really sweet moment, but hearing Mat howl with laughter beside you was like heaven. As you watched him cackle, bent at the waist with tears in his eyes, you caught a faint waft of deja vu. He had done the same thing to you repeatedly when you were younger when you were more gullible. His smile, his laugh, the early morning sunlight reflecting off his skin: this was exactly like eleven years ago when you were childish carefree and friendly. When you were best friends.
When you didn’t have to worry about being attracted to him.
Embarrassed by how easily you fell for that, and how you had been gazing into his eyes only moments earlier, you punched his shoulder. “Mathew Barzal!!! Are you still eleven?!”
“Are you? I can’t believe you still fell for it!”
“Shut up! You know I hate those!”
“Obviously.” he caught a glimpse of the smile on your face and knew you really couldn’t be mad at him. He mimicked your reaction with drama and fell into a new fit of giggles.
“I’m never going to trust you again.”
“We’ll see about that.”
You couldn’t help but smile, no matter how much you wanted to continue scolding him. Yeah, you would still trust him, and you’d probably fall for anything he tried. “You’re so stupid, Mat.”
“Maybe,” he continued laughing and pulled you against him to continue your walk down the beach. “But you know you love me anyway.”
You have no idea.
It was crazy that you were here with him- Mat Barzal, your childhood friend and NHL All Star- after eleven years. It was crazier that so much of his character hadn’t changed at all since he was young, the humor, the mischief, the childishness. Crazier than both of those things, though, was how quickly and easily you were falling in love with your best friend.
Mat was right, your trek to the car rental place was only about five minutes, five minutes of walking in the warm morning sun with Mat’s arm around your shoulder, and after some paperwork and licenses showed, you and Mat were choosing a car for the week. Originally, there would have been no way for you and Mat to escape- you’d all traveled together, crowded into the family SUV, and you know your parents would never give you the keys, and even if they did, it would be really inconvenient if you and Mat left and they needed to go somewhere. Now, it was liberating, freeing, knowing that you could go places on your own. And after all the work was done, Mat immediately gravitated towards a certain car that caught his eye.
“Oooh, what about this?” It was a classic- maybe 70’s- a powder blue convertible, sleek and long, the type of car you could imagine your parents sneaking away with, sipping milkshakes in and making out in the backseat in their teens. Despite its age, it seemed to be recently updated to include some sort of Bluetooth add-on on the dash so you could listen to your summer playlist.
“Wow, that’s, like…” Amazing? Something of your hopeless romantic fantasies? Absolutely. “It really doesn’t seem like your type, Mat.” You tried to stay realistic, but the hopeful smile on your face gave it away, and Mat leaned in closer, running a hand across the finish.
“Wouldn’t it be so cool? Like an old movie. Imagine driving down the coastline, blasting music, all warm in the sun, with the wind in our hair….” holding hands across the console, hands sliding up each other’s thighs, pulling over to lay on the hood under the stars, making out with each other desperately in the back seat….
���Okay, you make a pretty compelling argument.”
“So this is the one?”
“Let’s do it, Barzy!”
You had never, ever in your life, felt as free as you were now: flying down the empty coastline highway with Mat, wind in your hair and smiles on your face as you sang along with him to your summer playlist, searching for a place to pull over and run to the water. You sat in the passenger seat, sipping on a fruity smoothie you had convinced Mat to pull over for and laughing and smiling and feeling absolutely free. Liberated. You had the entire day with Mat, only Mat, nobody else. Nothing could touch you out here- none of your parent’s fights could get to you, no responsibilities could plague your mind right now- no, nothing could touch you but the sun. And you knew the sun would never betray you.
Speaking of the sun, Mat was behind the wheel, laughing with that beautiful, gleaming grin, his smile flooding warmth through your body just like the sunshine was warming your skin. You were flying down this empty straightaway, laughing and squealing as Mat sped up, trying to see how fast the two of you could go. His hair had grown out a little bit since the season ended, and was blowing back out of his face, looking so soft and just begging you to touch it- and you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching over to glide your fingers through the dark locks.
“Mat, turn it up!” You squealed in joy and threw your hands up into the air as your favorite song came on. Mat glanced over at you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming behind dark sunglasses.
“This is the life, isn’t it?”
It didn’t take long for the road to open off into a little rest stop: a parking lot and public changing room settled between the road and a wide, empty beach. There was nobody around, just you, Mat, and the ocean. The moment Mat had put the car in park, you were jumping out, grabbing your bag of swimsuits, sunscreen, and miscellaneous hygiene products out of the backseat.
“Shit, look at this view.” Mat was right. From where you stood in the cemented parking lot, a sandy hill sloped downwards for a bit only to flatten out onto the beach and open up to the wide expanse of ocean in front of you. Mat ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back behind his ears after the breeze had pushed it out of place. He was wearing the shirt you’d convinced him to buy, the color really making the hints of green in his eyes pop, and the top few buttons were undone, revealing golden collarbones and more below.
“It’s pretty.“ You watched, awestruck, as Mat stretched, bringing his arms high above his head, and lifting the end of his shirt list to reveal the indents of his hipbones disappearing down into his shorts. Oh, fuck. You had to get out of here before he drove you insane.  “I’m gonna go change, Mat. Take the paddleboards down to the beach a while, ‘kay?”
“You got it.”
You rushed to the changing room, momentarily cringing and wondering when the last time it was deep cleaned was, and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were sunkissed and flushed red hot, obviously visibly affected by Mat. God, these feelings you had for him… were they just physical attraction, or were they actually more? He was just so hot. But he was also so good to you. He cared for you, and took you away when it was becoming too much, he was always your distraction when life was too overwhelming.
Mat was really gonna be the death of you.
You quickly changed into your favorite bikini, ignoring the twinge of self-consciousness. “Alright, girl.” You looked at yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up. “Just you and Mat today. Control yourself. He’s your friend. You can’t keep daydreaming about him and undressing him in your mind.”
As you opened the door, your bag slung over your shoulder, you were stopped in your tracks as you saw Mat down on the beach, shirtless and golden, rubbing sunscreen on himself. And you knew then that the little speech you gave wasn’t going to be enough to get you through this week. It wasn’t hard to mentally undress him when there was only one piece of fabric keeping you from knowing what laid between his hips and thighs. Who knew what was under there, right? Look away, look away, don’t stare, don’t stare.
You tried your hardest to push it out of your mind.
“You need some help there?”
He turned around in the middle of trying- and failing- to reach a certain spot on his back. “Are you offering?” He’s wearing that sly smirk on his face, and your knees almost shake at the look he gives you.
“Nevermind, I’m sure you can reach it yourself.”
“Wow,” Mat feigned a hurt expression. “I can’t believe you’d let me burn. What a friend you are.”
“Alright, you dummy. Only if you help me, too.” He hands you the sunscreen and turns around so you have access to his back- his golden, toned back. You try to ignore how warm and smooth and taut his skin felt under your palms as you smoothed the cream over him. And Mat was holding his breath, trying his hardest to ignore the gentle movements of your small hands, rising across his back and up over his shoulders. “There, that should be good.”
Mat turned, skin gleaming in the sunlight. “Let me help you now.” You couldn’t believe this was actually happening- the classic, cliche rubbing sunscreen on each other’s backs, and you almost fell apart when his big hands rubbed over your shoulders, down your back. His hands were so big but so soft and gentle against your shoulders. “That’s a pretty small bikini. Aren’t you worried it’s gonna come off in the water?”
You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or if he was genuinely worried, but you shook off the feeling that he could be looking you up and down any second. You were friends. He doesn’t look at you like that. “I’m just trying to tan today.”
“You’re not gonna come out to the water with me?” He was pouting. This 22-year-old man was pouting because he thought he’d have to play in the water by himself.
“Mat, you’re such a big baby. I’ll be in the water. Just not in the water.”
“What do you mean?” He seemed confused at first but lit up with a smile when you lifted the paddleboard.
“Come on, Barzy, let’s hit the waves.”
You waded out into the ocean together, shrieking and laughing when the water splashed up to your thighs, cold against your warm skin. One part of the beach curled in almost a hook shape, creating a little pocket of the ocean with very little waves, too deep for you to just stand in but smooth and steady, the perfect place to just lay back and relax without being interrupted by crashing waves. Mat was quick to dive in and swim around, not minding how cold it was, but you were trying not to get your hair wet. Not yet, at least. You wanted to lay back and soak up the sun, maybe daydream about Mat for a while.
Oh, daydream you did, and it was embarrassing how hot and bothered it was making you just watching Mat.
He had spent a while swimming around you in circles, and you had certainly enjoyed watching the way the water rippled over his back as he moved, the way his muscles flexed and stretched and the way his skin glowed in the sun, the way that every now and then he would throw his head back so you could see every breath in his throat as he ran a hand through his dripping hair. “Mat, it looks like you’re tanning already.”
He laughed, taking on a teasing voice. “Were you watching me?”
“Maybe I was.”
He turned to where you were laying on your stomach in that tiny little bikini, eyeing him up and down behind those dark sunglasses. “Oh, yeah?” He floated on over, letting his eyes glance across you as well. He couldn’t help the heat that curled through him as his eyes dragged over your skin: the smile on your lips, the way your legs were swinging playfully in the air, the curve from the small of your back to... He swung his arm towards you and playfully sprayed you with seawater, causing you to shriek and cover yourself up from his attacks.
“Mat, that’s cold! Stop!” You splashed water back at him, spraying him right across the face, but nothing could wipe that beautiful grin away. Damn him, he was too cute.
He grinned crookedly in a way that you knew- you just knew- that he was planning something. He crossed his arms on top of your paddleboard and leaned in, his wet hair falling over his eyes and dripping onto your arm. “Better get used to it, you’re coming in!” He put his hands on the side, tipping it dangerously close to flipping. Oh no, no, no, as hot as his smirk was, the last thing you needed right now was to be wet and up close to his body.
“Mathew Barzal, I swear to god, do not flip this board!”
“Too late.” He rocked you back and forth daringly, a smile splitting across his face and making it impossible to not smile back. He had such a dumb effect on you, he could always make you smile, no matter how you were feeling or what was about to happen. And then you were splashing into the water next to him, grabbing frantically at anything that would keep you from drowning. Of course, the first and only thing your hands could contact was Mat’s smooth, slick skin. Your arms wrapped around his bare sides as you came to the surface, rubbing the saltwater out of your eyes and gasping.
Mat was laughing, the loud, beautiful cackles that would sound obnoxious and annoying if they were coming from anyone other than him. They reverberated through his body and into yours, soaking you to the bone with happiness. He was practically vibrating against you, and you would’ve laughed too if you hadn’t just been pushed into the water.
“Mat!” You slapped his shoulder and he struggled to control his giggles. “This isn’t funny! I could’ve drowned!”
“Nah, you couldn’t have.” He squeezed you where he had one arm wrapped around your waist and the other on the paddleboard to keep the two of you afloat. His arm was big and firm and secure yet gentle. “I’ve got you, see?”
Yeah, he got you, alright. His big hand was on the curve of your waist, your legs were tangled around his, you were pressed chest to chest, feeling every little giggle and breath from him, and your hands were gripping at his shoulders. You tried to ignore the feeling of his toned abdomen up against you, pretend as if it didn’t spark something hot and inappropriate in you. And maybe it was just the way you were holding onto each other for dear life or the way your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly, wet and shivering, but something was drawing you towards his lips.
Mat wanted to stay like this forever, locked in a right embrace with you, floating weightlessly out in the ocean. You had your arms in a vice grip around him, pressing your wet chest against his. He knew you didn’t mean this in a sexy way and he definitely wasn’t supposed to be thinking like this, but damn- being almost naked and having your wet body, soft and smooth and warm, up against his- who wouldn’t be getting turned on? He was gonna savor it. But when he caught himself focusing on the way your lips were puckered into a little pout, he knew he had to put out the fire building up in his stomach.
“Your hair is a mess.” Mat reached a hand up and pushed aside the wet locks of hair that were sticking to your face, tucking them behind your ear delicately.
You splashed him with water, making sure to target his own hair. “Oh, I wonder who’s fault that is?”
“Woops.” Mat laughed again, squeezing you as he did so and moving around with you in his arms.
You continued to splash and swim and play with Mat until he seemed to finally be worn out, and the two of you decided to lay on your boards for a while to rest and dry off under the sun.
Mat was lying next to you on his own paddleboard, his dark hair air-drying all fluffy and haloing around his head, and arm thrown over his face to block out the sun. Seeing as his eyes were covered, you couldn’t help but glance over and check him out, watching his bare chest rise and fall with each breath. You let your gaze travel shamelessly down his golden, toned chest and ribs and abdomen to where that V shape was disappearing into his shorts, and you just knew your mind was going to wander to the immaculate layout of his stretched out body when you were alone in bed tonight.
God, he was so attractive.
This isn’t love, this isn’t even a crush, you had to tell yourself over and over. You’re just attracted to him, like millions of other girls out there. He’s attractive, he has charm and humor, and good looks, that doesn’t mean you love him. It was taking everything in you to hold yourself back from jumping into fantasies of the two of you together- you wanted to hold his hand, kiss him, hug him, cuddle him, call him “baby”. But that’s only because he’s hot, (Y/N). Really, why else would you think of these things? Maybe because he had always been the one you relied on to distract you, even when he wasn’t physically there. He cared about you, he always put you first, he remembered your summer together after ten years apart. And he took you away when your family became too much.
“Mat?” He hummed in response and looked over. “I’m sorry you have to deal with my family’s shit. We’re only a day in and they’re already fighting”
“It’s fine. I’m here to distract you from that, remember?”
“Thanks.” You went back to laying in silence and thinking. Thinking about how crazy it was to be here, to be with each other again. “You know, the only reason we ever met in the first place was because my parent’s marriage was falling apart.” You glanced over at Mat to find him propped up on one elbow, his toned upper body turned towards you. “I never would’ve approached you as a kid if I wasn’t just… so desperate for a friend. For anyone to hang out with.”
“Shit,” he sighed, pushing some hair back behind his ear. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such bad circumstances.”
“Don’t be. If my parents falling out of love caused me to meet you, I can deal with it.”
He laughed, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m a star.”
“You have no idea how wrong you are, Maty.” He smiled at you and butterflies erupted in your stomach.
“Yeah, our story’s pretty great, don’t you think?” He sighed, soft and thoughtful as if he was contemplating something and flattened down onto his back again, crossing his arms behind his head. “It’s weird. We only reconnected last year but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Or for the past eleven years, at least.”
Your heart almost burst out of your chest with Mat’s words. Yeah, you did feel like you’ve known him all your life. You broke your eyes away from his and focused your gaze and the sky, finding it easier to spill your heart when you weren’t looking at him. “At that game, the night I found you, it was so crazy. When I heard your name I just… felt like it had to be you. I was trying to put the pieces together but I just couldn’t imagine that it was actually you. And my friend got me to look up some pictures, and I just… I can’t even describe how it felt.”
“It probably felt the same as when I saw you in the bar.” Mat couldn’t help but think back to that night. He had been at the bar, on his phone when some pretty girl caught his attention. “You really made it to the NHL, huh?” He didn’t know what this girl meant, and those words rang in his ears for a few long seconds, but there was something about her… the way she carried herself, the nervousness in her voice. Before he could figure it out though, she was rambling, how sorry she was, how he must not remember her, “the summer of ‘08?” And then he knew it was her.
“Did you recognize me?”
“Well…” Mat shrugged sheepishly. “Not at first, honestly. But I knew there was something familiar.”
“It was your smile that did it for me.”
“What?”
“I was looking through pictures, and I wasn’t sure if it was actually you or not. I mean, you’ve obviously changed since you were eleven years old. But when I saw a picture of you smiling, I knew. Your smile hasn’t changed a bit.” Mat’s heart pounded, ached, in his chest. Wow. He looked over again and caught your gaze, making note of your red cheeks.
God, he was so in love with you.
“Did you ever think about it, Mat?” Because hell, I thought about you constantly. “About that summer?”
“Of course I did. I mean, I did get a lot busier, but every now and then something would remind me. Summers weren’t the same after that.”
It was so strange to know that all these years you were thinking back to that childhood summer together, Mat Barzal had also been thinking about you. “You know, I was so scared to approach you. I’m glad I did. You’re just as cool as you were when we were children.”
“You’re pretty cool too.”
You laid in silence again, pleased with the little conversation you had just had, and stretched out in the sun, finally completely dry again. Mat watched as you stretched out, moving your hips a little bit and extending your legs, and had to look away to keep his composure. If only you knew what you could do to him.
“We should probably go get something for lunch, yeah?”
“Yeah, let’s head back.”
The next few hours passed in a blur of warm sunshine and joyous laughter and pictures of Mat- just Mat. Mat’s skin, his arm around your shoulder, his skin touching yours, his hair drying all fluffy and soft and dark in the sunlight. And as you flew down the empty road again, smoothies in your hand and greasy takeout food secured between you and Mat, you couldn’t help but take out your camera and snap some pictures of him sitting beside you, his hair blowing back and a smile on his face. You wanted to document this entire week. You wanted to remember this day forever.
Hours later, with full stomachs tired bodies and warm hearts, you settled back with Mat against the hood of the car as the sun began to set in the background. It was cooling off a bit, so he had thrown on his Hawaiian shirt again but opted to keep it unbuttoned. You sat next to him, fiddling with pieces of string and little shells that you were trying to make into a bracelet.
“Mat, if I made you a bracelet, would you wear it?”
He glanced up from his phone, where he was trying to take a photo of the moon beginning to rise over ocean, and let out a short laugh when he saw your work. “Of course.”
“Even after this week? When we’re back in New York?” He hesitated a moment and you laughed. “Come on, it’s not gonna look that bad.”
“No, but, I don’t know... You can’t just make me jewelry. People will think we’re dating or something.” As much as Mat wanted that to be a reality- as much as he wanted to wear that bracelet for you and hold you and kiss you and tell you how much he loved you and have you to himself- he knew it wouldn’t do him any good to constantly have a reminder on his wrist of how he fell in love with his best friend and couldn’t be with her.
“Friendship bracelets?”
Friendship. Friendship. But he pushed a smile onto his face. There’s no way he could say no to you. “Yeah, sure.”
“Great. Let me measure you then.” You leaned over, taking his wrist in your hands and wrapped the string around his wrist. Mat tried to ignore the way his heart jumped at just the feeling of your fingertips on his wrist. It wasn’t even romantic, it wasn’t even cute, but it was you, and you were touching him. Sometimes he hated his body, how it would react so strongly to the simplest things you did as if he was still a teenage boy in the midst of puberty who couldn’t control himself.
He watched, mesmerized out of the corner of his eye as you focused on braiding little shells onto the string, the ocean in front of them forgotten. You had no idea what you did to him. You got tired of working on the bracelet soon, setting it aside and laying back next to Mat, smiling up at the stars that were only beginning to peek out from the fading blue of the sky. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening- you were laying on the hood of a car next to your childhood best friend, the center of your attention, NHL All-Star Mathew Barzal. But none of the titles mattered when you were together. When you were together, he was just Mat. Your Mat.
“My friends can’t believe I’m on vacation with you right now.”
“Oh yeah? Am I the coolest person you’ve met on vacation?”
“I’d say yes, but I don’t want to inflate that ego of yours.” You knew he was joking, though. He wasn’t one to brag, or to boast about his accomplishments, which was refreshing to see in a professional athlete, and you weren’t expecting that when you first approached him. “Actually, I met a pretty cool guy here a few years ago. I was sixteen, and he could drive already. He might be the coolest guy I ever met.”
“Ooh, a summer romance. Sounds dreamy.” He couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy and sarcasm in his words.
“Shut up, Mat.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes next to you. "You know, I kinda wish we would've been older when we met. Like, in our teens."
“Oh yeah? Why?”
You could have told him. Told him you wanted to hold him, kiss him, lose yourself in him, and see what would’ve happened had you been teenagers that summer. But you shouldn’t. You couldn’t. “I don’t know. We would’ve had more freedom, I guess. We wouldn’t have to be hanging around our parents all the time. I just wonder what would’ve been different.”
There were a few silent moments while Mat processed what you said, gazing up at the stars above and thinking it over and over in his head. Was he overthinking? Fuck it, maybe he was, who cares? He rolled onto his side, propping himself up with an arm, the metal cool against his sun-warmed skin, and caught your gaze, searching, questions evident in his eyes. “I think I have a few ideas.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was leaning in. Your mind went hazy, unable to process the moment: your faces were close, much too close for friends, his fingers were grazing across your jaw and his lips looked so, so soft all of a sudden as he stayed there, inches from your face, waiting, your cheek encased in the warmth of his palm.
He was waiting on your cue. Waiting for you to do anything. Don’t leave me hangin’ here, babe.
You could practically hear your own heartbeat by the time you rolled onto your back. No, no, you read it all wrong. He’s not trying to kiss you. You were friends. He was leaning in to hear you better. Stupid hopeless romantic brain trying to find love where there is none. “Yeah, if we were older when we met, we would’ve at least tried to stay in touch with each other.”
“Yeah, we would’ve.” Mat rolled back over, staring up into the stars with burning cheeks and a pounding heart, hoping you didn’t realize what he was trying to do there. Rather have you unaware than rejecting him, right?
“Mat, remember when we used to mess with crabs?”
“And you were super scared of them?” He laughed as you shook your head, trying to ignore the embarrassment creeping in. “Yeah, of course, I remember.”
“Wanna go recreate that memory?”
“Oh, for sure.”
So you headed down onto the beach, barefoot and way too close to each other, with nothing but your phones as flashlights in your hands.
The first time you did this together was 2008. You and Mat had snuck away from where your parents were talking together on the porch and made your way down to the beach quietly. “Shh, we can’t let them know we’re leaving.” He had whispered to you with a little smirk. You were both only ten or eleven, but already Mat had you wrapped around his finger. You followed him, holding his hand, as he led you down to the beach and announced you were going to look for crabs- the ones your parents had told you not to go near. And you looked and looked and looked, and soon you found one. It wasn’t impressive, but to your young minds, it was huge and dangerous.
You remember daring Mat to touch it, but as he got closer and closer you began worrying and begging him to stop, to the point of tears. “It’s fine” he convinced you “It’s really not that scary.” But as he approached it, it ran off in your direction, causing you to jump and screech in fear. That was the first time Mat had to console you, rushing to hush you before your parents came and found the two of you. He hugged you and promised to scare away the crabs. And that was the first time he hugged you.
The first of many.
“Woah, look at the size of this guy!” And now it was 2019, eleven years later, and Mat was the same, always there to console you and save you, even if he was the one to cause your distress. “I’m gonna touch him.”
“Mat, that’s a bad idea. What if you get pinched?”
“I won’t.”
“Famous last words, Mat…” Of course, the more you told him not to, the more he wanted to do it. Before you could stop him, he was already approaching it, crouching down and grabbing it between his fingers. “Mat! Don’t do that!”
He stood up with it in his hands, smirking and coming closer to you. The crab was flailing its big claw around and snapping, and you knew it would attack anything in reach. “Wanna touch him?”
“No! Absolutely not!”
“You sure?”
“Mat, if you bring that thing any closer to me I’m gonna punch you. Put it down!”
You saw the grin shit-eating grin on his face and rethought your words. Before you could clarify yourself, Mat was shrugging. “If you say so.” And the moment it was back in the sand, it was running towards you, and, though you tried to keep your composure in front of Mat, you couldn’t help but jump and squeal in fear. That had Mat bending over at the waist, cackling and wheezing at your reaction.
“Mat, shut up!” But the more flustered you got, the more he giggled.
“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll protect you from them!” And he pulled you into his side, his arm fitting perfectly around your waist, tucking you against him and holding you firm, his laughs vibrating through your body and making you smile once again.
“You’re a dick.” But the smile on your face said otherwise, and Mat knew.
“And you’re still scared of crabs.” He laughed again and poked your side, teasing, gentle. “Some things never change, huh?”
That’s true- you both knew it. Some things never change. Like how Mat still loved to tease and poke fun at you, after all these years. How he was still the one you fell on when you needed something. Or how he still wants nothing more than to help you and keep you safe. And you still had Mat wrapped around your finger.
But some things do change.
Standing here in Mat’s arms with his giggles washing over you, the moon rising above you over the ocean, you knew. Things had changed. You had grown, matured, and so had he. And so had your feelings.
You’re not just friends anymore.
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The Lights of Treasure Island
For the past few years, I've been living on a barrier island named Anastasia. A sandy, sleepy, slow place, just off the coast of our nation's oldest city, Anastasia Island features tall palm trees and gorgeous beaches, along with excellent sushi and a surprisingly active arts scene. Its most splendid attraction, though, is an old lighthouse, one striped with a black and white spiral and crowned by a bright red lamphouse. It towers commandingly over the dunes, casting a long beam that can be seen from nearly anywhere in town.
I've always liked lighthouses. In days of old we set these magnificent lanterns on the edge of the sea, to guide sailors through dark and treacherous waters, to show them the way home. Lighthouses represent so many things we need: safety, comfort, reliability, navigation. But in my mind, these structures hold the magic of candles, the magic of illumination itself. When we speak of enlightenment, we may be speaking specifically of rationality and discovery, but we are also conjuring images of light prevailing over darkness. And in this way the lighthouse emerges as a powerful symbol of the spirit.  
This February, for my 47th birthday, I explored the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where I saw several amazing lighthouses. Impressive as they were, I did not think they quite compared with the singular majesty of the structure that stands on Anastasia Island. After a harrowing return journey, one in which I drove with no working alternator (and sometimes without headlights or windshield wipers) through nearly 700 miles of tornadic thunderstorms, I felt the most profound relief when I finally crested the peak of the SR-312 bridge, which connects my island to the mainland, and I saw those familiar black and white stripes in the distance, signaling that I had made it home. Less than half a year later, my feelings about this special lighthouse of mine would be forever changed by a chance encounter.
Just under two months ago, I received a brief and rather unremarkable message from a stranger on Scruff, a queer dating platform that I use. One might charitably call Scruff "a social club for discerning gentlemen" ... it appeals to men who are hirsute, meaty, perpetually horny, and even a few of us freaks who defiantly straddle the line between "butch" and "nancy". Since this man's profile didn't really offer all that much information, and his one available picture wasn't particularly compelling, I promptly tucked his message away and forgot about it, and went for my customary sunset walk on the beach.
I live exactly one mile from the southern boundary of a state park, which offers a four-mile stretch of pristine dune habitat, completely undeveloped and sparsely occupied. The only man-made objects in sight are a few empty lifeguard stands, the city's sightseeing pier, a radio antennae, and our lighthouse. Dolphins gather here, their dorsal fins rising and falling between the breakers. Squadrons of pelicans fly in tight formations, gliding only a few feet above the water's surface. Terns and sea turtles nest in its sands, and I've found many shark teeth among the sea shells and ghost crab burrows. This is a special place, a holy place, and I've made a daily ritual of enjoying its cloudscapes and crepuscular glow as I explore the edge between land and sea.
After a pleasant stroll, maybe an hour or so of blissful meditation, I turned around and started heading back towards my car when I caught sight of a man who had just walked out of the water and was now drying himself off. We locked eyes.
He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Arrestingly beautiful, the kind of handsome that stops you dead in your tracks. I just kind of gulped for a second, and then walked right up to him, with an audacity that I didn't even know I possessed, turned on every damn bulb in my Christmas tree, and murmured, "Hi!", making the word shimmer like tinsel. In a short amount of time, I learned that he was a Russian artist, born in St. Petersburg but living in Moscow. I had met him during a brief pause on his long drive from Jacksonville to Key West; he had only intended on stopping in St. Augustine long enough to explore our old Spanish fort and take a swim on our nicest beach. He possessed a keen intellect, a quick wit, and a laudable command of English. As we spoke, he kept giving me flashes of the most mischievous smile, and so when I finally asked him what he was grinning about, he revealed that he was the same man who had messaged me earlier. This came as a surprise, for I hadn't recognized him at all ... I had only been drawn in now by his gorgeous movie-star looks, the undeniable sex appeal of his dripping wet body, and some weird sense of destiny.
We talked. We talked some more. We went to dinner. And then he stayed for the better part of three days.
In my bed, we enjoyed the most astonishing kind of communion. Our nights and mornings were filled with such tenderness ... soft eyes, soft caresses, fearlessly sustained gazes, the kind of kisses that tell a hundred little stories. One by one, various secrets were brought to light. We shared toe-curling carnality, thunderous climaxes, an unalloyed and unembarrassed intimacy. We shared joy.
On our second day together, I took him to the top of Anastasia Island's lighthouse. We lingered on each landing to kiss and giggle, and our embraces grew more intense. We felt a stronger and stronger pull towards one another. I knew that this was more than just a simple infatuation. By the time we reached the lantern's round balcony, and stepped out together onto the most spectacular view of St. Augustine, I knew that I was falling in love.
I don't blame you for rolling your eyes at this. You may, in your justifiable cynicism, think it ridiculous for a man to utter such a powerful phrase within such a short time. But if you've ever known me, you've come to recognize by now my considerable capacity for love. My passions and appetites may rise to the surface with little interference, and will I admit some recklessness in how I've invested my energies, but I am no fool. I am neither naïve nor desperate. And I can say in all sincerity that what we felt then was, at least for a short while, genuine love.
From the top of the lighthouse we could see everything. The old downtown, with its mixture of colonial and Spanish Renaissance buildings. The Matanzas River, named for the 1565 massacre of shipwrecked Huguenots, separating my island from the mainland. The harbor of St. Augustine, crowded with sailboats and pleasure craft, a forest of masts. And then the sea, blue and inviting, the sea that would soon separate us. We held each other tightly and looked upon the Atlantic together, casting our dreams towards the horizon, into this vista of seemingly endless possibility and hope.
On our last night together, we took a naked midnight swim in my pool, which is lit from above by a row of blue lights. A light and warm rain fell on our heads as we twined our legs underwater, and our ardor cast a web of rippling refractive patterns on the pool's concrete bottom. He looked me in the eyes, kissed me with the utmost gentleness, and formally invited me to come stay with him in Moscow. I accepted with my new magic word, "Да."
The following morning, our parting was so sweet, and so warm. We solidified our promise to be reunited. He drove down to Key West, enjoying a music playlist I assembled for him, and then he flew up to New York for a week's visit with old friends. After he returned to Moscow, we embarked on a passionate long-distance affair via telephone and social media apps.
I plunged right away into the Russian language, practicing for hours a day, rediscovering my knack for linguistics. I bought books on the cities of Moscow and St. Petersburg, books on Russian verbs, flashcards, a portable dictionary. I subscribed to online learning programs, put apps on my phone, read up on the country's history. I was all in, bringing every available bit of my enthusiasm, work ethic, and inventiveness to the challenge. Every day, I would send him sweet little videos or text messages ... sharing good news, conveying small but significant events of my daily life, showing off my rapidly accelerating grasp of Russian. I sent him notes of encouragement, pictures of me looking my cutest, small but enjoyable details of my life on Anastasia Island. I sent him a short clip of the black skimmers that sliced back and forth across the thin swash of the surf, their beaks dipping into half an inch of water. I sent him pelicans, beach crabs, waves, paintings, difficult words, idioms, cute terms of venery, sunsets, clouds, kisses, evidence of my changing body. I sent him love, every day. "каждый день," I promised him, placing my hand on my heart, "каждый день." Every day.
My love deepened by the hour. I know this is going to sound so gushy and gross, but I really pushed the lighthouse metaphor pretty hard, calling myself "твой смотритель маяка" or "your lighthouse keeper". I meant this in all sincerity, without a drop of bathos or schmaltz. Our time atop the lighthouse was sacred to me. I promised him that I would keep its light burning bright.
Over time, however, things shifted. As my interest grew, his began to dwindle. He sent less and less of himself, slowly removing from our conversation his humor, his sexuality, his warmth, his trust. It was like seeing a fully assembled jigsaw puzzle get lifted into the air, and watching all the pieces falling out ... at first only a few at a time, then more and more, until there was only a jagged perimeter where there had once been a lovely picture.
The nadir came when he lost his temper with me over my visa. I was confused about the process, as the Russian consulate and other sources were providing patchy and often conflicting information, and his own explanations changed from day to day. During our last video chat, I asked one too many questions, and he snapped. He rolled his eyes, effectively called me stupid and childish, and hung up on me three times. My many attempts at reconciliation were completely rebuffed. It was both baffling and extraordinarily painful.
Two days after our fight he was in a terrible car accident, one from which he miraculously escaped unharmed. He posted on social media an impassioned paragraph about the event, and how it drew into sharp focus all the love he had in his life, how he felt that he wasn't deserving of such love, how grateful he was for his friends. Yet instead of contacting me, inviting me into this experience, or trying to repair our frayed connection, he spent his evenings logging back into Scruff, the aforementioned dating app. He continued to ignore me, choosing instead to pursue (or perhaps refresh) other opportunities. I tried in vain to reach him, to restore our bond, but was met with only the most chilling silence.
How had I been so wrong? Had my desire devolved into mere obsession, albeit one artfully disguised as love? Had my zeal somehow suffocated him? The irony for me was that this disastrous affair unfolded during a period of rapid and positive transformation. In the space of the last seven months, I'd already changed my diet, fixed my teeth, joined a gym, paid off a chunk of my debt, reorganized my home office, purchased a standing desk, resumed my daily beach walks, started seeing both a psychiatrist and a therapist. My relationship to my body was improving, I was working at a higher level of professional responsibility, gaining new clients, writing my fourth novel, and churning out the finest paintings of my career. A recent experience with ayahuasca had given me valuable insights into my adulthood. It seemed only right that this Russian should be the cherry on my sundae, a prize I had been working so hard to deserve.
And so, after admitting my own disenchantment, I surrendered. Reeling from an overwhelming feeling of loss, I wrote him a heartfelt letter in Russian, one in which I explained the hurt his indifference was causing me. I poured a lot of benevolent energy into this letter. And then I said to him the saddest word I've learned in Russian, "Прощай", which is the type of goodbye you use when you think you are not likely to see someone again. It translates, literally, into "forgive me."
Here is the letter I wrote to him, translated into English:
***
"V_____, beautiful V____:
Okay. I give up.
Your silence gave me a very clear and very painful answer. You have been entrusted with something rare and beautiful, and you have shown that you do not want it. So now it's gone.
I'm sorry my heart bored you so much. I will no longer annoy you with my desires.
The love that I offered you ... pure and strong, given without demands or jealous limitations ... does not come often.
It pains me to realize that you do not appreciate what I have tried to give you. It is even more painful to realize that I may have aggravated the situation with my zeal. But the distance that you put between us is your choice, and I must respect that.
It seems that the epiphany you experienced in the car accident, the moment you thought of all the love in your life, did not include my love for you. Your priorities are yours, and I accept that. But you almost died yesterday, V_____. And instead of choosing to bond with a man who cares about you so much, your focus shifted to Scruff. Your indifference is so obvious now. Please do not say anything ugly or cruel in response. There is already enough sorrow on my island. I feel both grief and embarrassment, but not anger. I've always wanted the best for you, and it's still true.
I sincerely wish you a long and happy journey. I hope you enjoy many successes and find many pleasures. I hope you stay healthy. I hope the man you choose deserves your best gifts. I hope you find a better lighthouse. I must direct my light now to those who are really looking for it. So now I must tell you the saddest word that I have learned in your language.
Goodbye."
***
Please allow me now to rewind a few years, and tell a correlative story.
In the autumn of 2019, during a period of intense sadness and frustration, I fled from Anastasia Island and drove impulsively across the state to the Gulf Coast. I didn't have a clear destination, I didn't pack enough clothes or supplies, and I was so blinded with tears and unexpressed rage that I didn't know where I was, or even care much about where I might land. While getting lost somewhere in the vicinity of St. Petersburg, I glanced at a map, dragged my finger along the squiggly coastline, saw the name Treasure Island, and thought, "That's gotta be the place."
I don't know what I was expecting to find there. Something about the name sounded so exciting, so exotic. And as the evening wore on, my anticipation grew. I thought, in my desperation, that everything would be all right once I got to Treasure Island. Over the next few hours, I convinced myself that I'd finally feel good again in such a place, that my pain and confusion would certainly evaporate once I reached this safe haven. I'd check into a nice hotel room, preferably one with 300 thread-count sheets and a coffee maker, and I'd dream about pirate ships and gold doubloons, and when I opened my eyes and yawned and stretched against the sun-dappled pillows my life would basically feel like a commercial for some bougie brand of almond milk. When I arrived, however, I was deeply disappointed to see another narrow stretch of high-rise hotels, littered beaches, rank seaweed, and greyish-brown water. I found the cheapest hotel room around, one of the few remaining vacancies on the shore, and there I found neither crisp bedsheets nor good coffee. The view from my balcony, however, was utterly amazing: I could see not only a broad curving swath of the beach, but also a glow of distant resort hotels, some of them reflected in the waves. It was strangely romantic, seeing these twinkling lights ... red, gold, green, blue ... and their silent conversation with the stars, a dialogue of jewels above the warm churning waters of the Gulf. But it wasn't the salvation I had been hoping for.
When I got up the next morning, I was still facing the same problems, the same irritations, the same heavy sorrows. Treasure Island would not, could not, rescue me from myself. So I drove back home to my own island, back to my lighthouse, and was relieved to discover that it was in fact even more stirring than I had remembered. During my absence Anastasia Island had become a magical and restorative place, quite different than the one I had left only days before.
What I should have learned back then, but have only come to realize now, was this: I didn't need to travel to a distant island of treasure and twinkling stars, for my own island already had plenty of both. I didn't need to seek the incandescence of a handsome man to light my way, as my own inner flame was at last beginning to shine without the shutters of inhibition or profligacy.
I am now recalling my disappointment with Treasure Island, while concurrently considering my grief over the Russian. At first, I wanted to hate him for his carelessness, for how he squandered my gifts. But I don't hate him. Not really. There's no need to wring my hands any further over his callousness. I don't even mourn his absence anymore. My mood has shifted today, and I no longer choose to see this abortive liaison as being so devastating. For I know, deep down, that the failure here was not really mine. I am not a loser for investing myself unreservedly in someone who could not fully appreciate me, nor I am not the weaker man for feeling injured. I will not be permanently depleted for having offered all that kindness to an undeserving recipient, as my wellspring of love remains inexhaustible.
I tried to share my lighthouse with the Russian. But he did not recognize how special it really was, and he declined to follow its beacon to a rewarding harbor. And thus, our romance was destroyed, and his memory became just another broken boat littering the shallows.
I have seen so many ruins in my years: bad relationships, lousy jobs, soured opportunities. My life story reads like a ledger of dashed hopes. It seems sometimes that both the island I occupy and the more elusive island I am eternally seeking are surrounded by shipwrecks. Yet the lighthouse of my spirit still stands, sturdier and stronger than ever. The waves may batter its bricks, salt may scour its surfaces, it may occasionally groan under its own weight ... but it will not crumble, it will not fail, and even in the darkest of hours this lamp of mine will continue to shine: bright, focused, undiminished.
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septic-skele · 3 years
Text
US - Heed The Signs (Part 4)
[Part 3]
A/N: Don't mind me projecting my own feelings about my chronic illness onto poor Pap. It's just nice having a character to relate to ^^"
Why did I lie to him? Why did I say I wanted to walk? Are we there yet? How much longer? This is taking forever…I’m so tired. Everything hurts, I just want to stop.
Lying was wrong. That was what his brother always told him and by the looks of it Papyrus’ body agreed; it was doing everything within its power to punish him.
True to Blue’s advice, his bath had been chilling but even with his clothes half-dry he was still shivering. The worse twitches sent crackly jolts of pain through his joints, akin to insect stings, and when he clenched his teeth to stop their clattering his head pounded dreadfully.
My skull’s a knock-knock door now, he mused dazedly, though it wasn’t as funny without a joke to tell. He couldn’t think of a good one for the life of him.
Sick. Sick who? Sick me. But don’t tell Blue.
He just wanted Blue to be happy. His brother had seemed sincere enough when he offered him the chance to stay but what if Papyrus had taken it and Blue had gotten mad at him? When he was honest about his fears and the idea of being left behind, that had upset him enough; the last thing he wanted was to disappoint him again.
If he disappointed him again, Blue might actually do it. Wasn’t that an awful thought?
“I will never, ever leave you behind. No matter how tired you are, no matter how slow, I will always be there to help and protect you.”
Those words should comfort him; they had at the time but now, through the slogging fog in his mind, they sounded so far away.
What Blue didn’t know when he made that promise—what he still didn’t seem to fully understand—was that Papyrus was always tired. In his soul he knew it wasn’t the “normal” tired. It wasn’t normal to sleep and sleep and sleep and still feel so drowsy, like he had never gone down. It wasn’t normal for his vision to go black and his legs to buckle just because he stood up too fast. It wasn’t normal to feel this weight dragging on him, like he was constantly trying to wade through a mudslide. Was that what it would be like at their new home, with all the snow in their way? The very thought of it stirred anxiety.
Something was wrong with him and nothing was wrong with Blue. His big bro was so cool, running and jumping and climbing and lifting heavy things. All the while he barely gasped for breath. How did he do it?
Jealousy was wrong too. Papyrus hated the sore, mean longing caged in each of his tender bones. He always insisted that he would never hope for bad things for his brother…but in a corner of his mind that would probably never come to light, he wished Sans could know how he felt, even if it was only one day. What if Papyrus was like this forever? He could never live up to Blue’s example, no matter how hard he tried. He could never be that good.
Yet again his nose and eye sockets stung with telltale moisture but perhaps he didn’t have enough magic left over to form real tears, given how much effort the rest of his body was putting forth.
Blue was right when he said he would run out of tears if he kept it up. Of course, Blue was always right. I’m such a baby bones.
How far had they walked by now? Lost in thought and misery, Papyrus couldn’t be sure. Over time Waterfall started to blur together whether one was paying close attention or not. All he knew for sure was that his feet throbbed for mercy and he had a stitch pulling in his ribs that made it harder to breathe with every step…so that must mean they were making progress, right?
Blue had been babbling on for a while, filling the silence, but only now did Papyrus register what he was saying. “Gosh, I’m starving! We didn’t have any dinner or breakfast, huh? Are you hungry, Papy?”
Strangely he wasn’t. His nonexistent stomach panged with discomfort, yes, but not in the raw, empty way. All he mustered was a shrug. Blue hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly over him, but after a long moment he tried for a smile regardless.
“I’m sure there’s something around here we could munch on for a while. Umm…” As he turned to examine the area, he no doubt saw the same things Papyrus had: grass, water, flowers, and crystals in every direction. To Papyrus’ surprise, however, he lit up. “Hey, those could be pretty tasty!”
“Hmm?”
“Well, they’re called water sausages, aren’t they? Sausages are edible so if these go by the same name, they must be too!” With no further ado he snatched at the nearest group of new shoots, waving them wildly to rid them of droplets and pollen. Papyrus coughed, belatedly trying to muffle it in his sleeve as the cloud clogged the air and made his head spin.
Even the trash they had scavenged a couple of nights ago had been a little more appealing than muddy uprooted stalks. With some nausea he remembered the wet, mushy crab apple and the cracked bottle of fluid that was…hopefully sea tea. Both had been bitter and acidic, rather difficult to swallow.
When he noticed his distaste, Blue didn’t hesitate to share his lucky find of a gloopy, half-smashed Nice Cream, insisting that it was too big to finish on his own. He was so cool. That sweeter flavor was long gone now; Papyrus could still taste the metallic tang from the upheaval earlier, lingering in the back of his throat.
No, he was definitely not hungry. Cradling his arms close to his chest, trying to get the tremors under better control, he coughed twice, thrice more and hung his head. Tuning Blue out as he peeled and crunched thoughtfully on the weeds, the younger focused instead on savoring the break from walking.
If he sat down he had a sneaking suspicion that he would forget he had to get up again. Now that they weren’t moving, he became fully aware of how moist and heavy the air felt as it crawled over him. There was no breeze this way. Why was he still shivering and swaying, as if a supposed wind might knock him over? Was that sweat, too, slithering down his back? That didn’t sound right. What was hot and what was cold?
Tired, tired, tired…
“Papyrus?”
Blue’s hands on him made him startle but it was too much effort to reel back upright. Murmuring something that might not have been made of real words, he let himself wilt and trusted that Blue would catch him. He did, though he didn’t give him an opportunity to go entirely boneless. Hurriedly wrangling and propping loose limbs out of his way, Blue cupped his cheekbone.
“How are you still—? Never mind. I—I don’t think this is good for you, Papy, going hungry. You need something to keep your strength up!”
“Throat h’rts,” he mumbled, flinching away when he felt Blue nudge the end of the water sausage against his teeth. “Head h’rts.”
“Please, just a bite or two, alright? There’s only a little left and that’ll leave my hands free! I’ll be able to carry you.”
That deal didn’t sound half bad. Though his jaw ached from gritting for so long, he pried it open just enough that he could be fed. The stalk didn’t smell awful but it failed to belie the true sour taste. Suppressing a whine, he barely chewed before choking it down and absorbing Blue’s patting and praise.
It was more like six or seven bites before the stalk ended, the seventh going to waste as Papyrus coughed too roughly to swallow it. Nevertheless Blue kept his word, scooping him off his feet with surprising gentleness. Since Blue wouldn’t be running, all Papyrus could do was hope that this easier pace wouldn’t jar him into vomiting again. He fell asleep within the first thirty steps.
___________________________________
Thick black fluid bubbled up from cracks in the ground, taking shape. Sticky, spindly hands were grabbing at him, their touch burning, their grasp so tight that his bones started to crack on contact.
Sobbing and spitting, he thrashed to be free, phalanges snapping off his feet to be engulfed instantly. Somehow he ran—or swam—or was he drowning already?
The waves of blackness were overrunning the world. Trees and buildings and people were melting around him in every direction. As the hands gained purchase, they scaled the far walls. They would bring the mountain down on top of them!
“Sans, help me!”
He stood several yards ahead, motionless, with empty, gaping eye sockets—yet still he smiled, the blackness seeping between his bared teeth. Purring ominously in a language Papyrus knew he’d forgotten, he opened his stretched, warped arms for an embrace.
There was a voice somewhere beyond the pounding and crackling in his skull.
“—rus! Brother, it’s alright! You’re going to be alright. It’s over now…We’ve made it!” Familiar. Soothing, relief and hope.
When he broke the surface of his dream, he was only given a second’s glimpse to register—shapes, white, hurt, too hot, too much—before his eyelights rolled back in his head. Back arching, limbs flailing and locking wildly, he was hurled by momentum out of Blue’s arms into the snow.
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unholyhelbig · 4 years
Note
Hizzie Summertime AU. Beach+smut? And feel free to do whatever you want with that because I trust you completely since you are amazing!!
Read on AO3 | Send me more Legacies Prompts 
Title: Braving the Storm 
Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Lizzie Saltzman 
[a/n: aight’ go easy on me please, I haven’t written smut in over a year and I’m BAD at it] 
The Rain had begun to fall sideways; the type of downpour that stung against raw skin and soaked through every inch of fabric until it felt like the very bones inside of her body was encased in a block of cloudy ice.
Hope Mikaelson had made a lot of terrible choices in her life. When she was fourteen she played spin the bottle on Tommy Hart’s deck and ended up with a drool-coated make-out session that left her until face red and raw. In 9th grade she tried to outdo all the other boys in her gym class by climbing the rock wall without a harness- she was fine, of course, but still ended up with a month’s detention for her stunt.
And right now; as she stood in the center of an impending hurricane, she knew she had made another terrible choice. Because the waves had gotten twice her height and she had stupidly believed that the brawn of the storm wouldn’t touch upon the shore until later. Hope had either last track of time or had horribly misjudged the large rolling clouds that rumbled towards the small beach town.
A hurricane had the clearance to empty an entire tourist-filled boardwalk. People rushed towards grocery stores and panic-bought anything that was there. Bread and water always left the shelves first, and then milk- which Hope never really understood because power didn’t last long with winds like this. Then the snack food would dwindle and so would the alcohol because everyone needed something to do when they were trapped inside of their houses.
Hope had successfully loaded up her surfboard on the roof of an old blue jeep, her hands numb from the cold onslaught of water that rinsed away whatever salt had brined her skin. Another crack of lightning washed across the sky in an intricate pattern before rumbling thunder followed. And her keys- she couldn't find her keys.
The palm trees started to hiss under the pressure thrown at them and Hope pushed falling drops away from her eyes as a beach umbrella, not tied down fully by its owner, folded like a piece of notebook paper barely scribbled on. Her skin felt numb, and so did her mind. There was no way she could get home in this.
She scanned the stretch of novelty shops, their lights all dimmed if not shut off entirely. There was a pizza place that had used slats of wood to cover up the vulnerable glass- and a shop that sold customized air-brush t-shirts. Each and everyone looked desolate and abandoned long ago. The news vans had scared everyone away and Hope suddenly wished they had done the same for her too.
Another gust of wind pressed rain deeper into her skin and a nearby palm tree, already bent under the current, finally snapped with a shattering crack, louder than any thunder had been. She smelt smoke and saw the red and orange sparks as bark sizzled against now-damaged power lines.
Hope doesn’t know if she screamed or not, couldn’t register it against her own fear, or the fact that the waves had gotten up to the docks and were tearing them apart from the threshold. She struggled to find her keys and her own breath against the hollowed wind.
The world blurred and her eyesight became fuzzy, and Hope wasn’t exactly sure if it was because of the storm, or her fear, or the pure way that her heart was pounding- but the taste of rain and the stinging feeling of hot sand against her skin was the last thing she could remember before everything faded to black.
Hope awoke without warning. Her throat was raw and tasted thickly of salt and dirt. She didn’t want to admit that her entire body ached, because that wasn’t in her nature- not in the slightest. But a sharp wave of pain disregarded her entirely.
She blinked away the drowsiness and took in her surroundings; the wind howled like a wronged spirit just past the four walls that she was situated in. There were shelves lined with shirts, and a few bubble wrapped snow globes that were settled with snow. She was strung across a ratty old sofa that smelled like it had been soaked in air freshener and her wet suit was hung across the edge of a bookcase.
Her hands moved against her mostly nude body in a fit of panic and then pain. She was wearing a large t-shirt that stretched past her knees and had a printed hermit crab and obnoxious blue writing that read “Shell Yeah, Beaches”. Thankfully her underwear was spared as well.
Hope scoffed and pulled herself onto her elbows. The rain still roared outside and a pair of foggy storm doors were held shut with a couple of sandbags against the bottom of the panes. Green light shaded everything in the back stock room. Her head was throbbing.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Hope moved her eyes across the room to another door, a wooden one that leads to a large windowed store that she couldn’t distinguish from the rest of them on the boulevard. “You got hit in the head pretty hard, though. I was starting to get worried.”
A girl, a beautiful girl shrouded in the emerald light of the storm stood with a bottle of unopened water. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun and a t-shirt, branded with a fancy crest and the words Myrtle Beach, stood at attention. Her eyes were what stuck with Hope the most, reflecting such raw concern.
“What happened?” Her voice was scratchy and foreign to her ears.
“Well, if I’m reading the situation correctly. You ignored every single warning on television, and by the national guard, and by whatever higher power created the hurricane in the first place by going out to catch some waves.” The girl closed the space between them and uncapped the water before shoving it Hope’s way.
Hope remembered that part just fine. “I lost my car keys.”
“And you got knocked out by an Umbrella. Drink all of that.”
She eyed the water warily but took a few sips before the cold numbed her throat and she lowered the bottle. The stranger seemed to be satisfied enough, she took it back before setting it to the side. Hope moved until she was situated at the end of the sofa.
“Thank you,” Her voice was slight and whispered. “I was being stupid and I could have died and… thank you, it’s not often you meet a kind stranger. Not here.”
She nodded and Hope would like to think that she understood. Would like to think that she would rush out into the storm to save someone she didn’t know too- but some part of her knew that with conditions like this in a city like this, she probably wouldn’t.
“I’m Lizzie,” The girl finally said.
“Hope,”
“Well, Hope, it looks like we might be here for a while. Garden City flooded completely.” She looked around the stock room, taking in the escape routes in case the water decided to rise too far and push against the inside of the store. “I’ve been listening to an old radio but that’s about to go out too.”
Hope let out a small groan and moved her head around. Her neck was stiff and there was a ringing in her right ear. She wondered if she had the imprint of a beach umbrella on the side of her face, and she wondered even more how Lizzie got her out of that wet suit. Her cheeks were suddenly red and eyes dark.
“Wait- did you see me naked?”
Lizzie lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and plopped down on the couch next to Hope. A healthy amount of dust pooled into the air. “You were going to catch your death if you stayed in that thing- and I swear up and down that I didn’t look intentionally.”
Hope chuckled and the sound was soft. “Did you at least like what you saw?”
The near-stranger stopped mumbling through her sentences and drew in a sharp breath. Those deep eyes bore into her own and Hope felt a chill rush through her. She knew how to outlast a hurricane- everyone who lived in this city did. And the lack of alcohol, and in this case, power, sparked something odd into her.
“I mean, did you, I’m not trying to. Isn’t it an intrusion to?” Lizzie took a deep breath to still her words. “You’re very beautiful.”
“Mm,” Hope hummed and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if I got a concussion or not, but this whole knight in shining armor thing is very alluring.”
“Is it?” Lizzie had a bit of an edge to her voice and even in the greyish green light, they grew deeper in color.
Hope found herself leaning closer, over the middle cushion of the sofa. Because this was irrefutably her worst idea yet. For once, someone else had saved her, even if it was from a rainbow-colored beach umbrella. She considered it a win. She also considered the way Lizzie smelled light of lavender and rustic like the rain that had dried against her clothes.
Lizzie closed the distance between the two of them, her fingers soft against the edge of Hope’s chin. She tasted fresh, and her touch was gentle but rushed. Lizzie wicked her other hand through damp hair and bit down against her bottom lip, coaxing a moan from Hope’s chest.
Lizzie’s hand was moving, sliding evenly across her neck before resting close to her collarbone and she moved closer. In one fluid motion, Hope was suddenly being straddled, legs on either side of her as they pushed into the cushions of the couch.
Hope bucked forward under the weight and Lizzie pulled back slightly, “Let’s not get too excited-“She instructed and Hope nodded, feeling a pang at the loss of warmth that now hung between them.
The blonde went back to work, this time moving her lips to the nave of Hope’s neck, biting and nipping lightly at her pulse point as the shorter girl growled in anticipation, leaning her head against the back of the couch. This girl was a tease- a skilled, but strong mannered tease.
She hadn’t noticed the way Lizzie’s hand moved across the contours of her skin, and the hot molten trails that each finger left behind as she neared the edge of her underwear. The fabric was cold and slightly damp from the wet suit, but even Hope could tell that that was nothing more than an excuse.
“God Lizzie, Please-“Hope mumbled, breathy and barely audible.
Her cheeks flushed to a different shade of red, she had never been one to beg. But as Lizzie's touch dropped between her legs she couldn’t help but squirm. Fingers traced evenly against her folds and a jolt of excitement moved through her like blood.
“What was that?” Lizzie snarled.
“I need you,” Hope panted out.
“Need me to what?”
She was starting to get frustrated, wanting to lift her hips, finally getting the sensation that she craved. But the patient look on Lizzie’s face was enough for her to struggle in steadying her breath, her words were still ragged “I need you to fuck me.”
The grin against Lizzie’s lips was animalistic and dark as she smiled into a biting kiss, she expertly pressed into Hope with a flowing motion akin to relief, two fingers working inside of her in a steady tempo that seemed to match up with her increasing heart rate.
Hope whimpered into Lizzie’s mouth, the sensation vibrating through her in the same rush that this morning had; that same edge of danger and content that standing at the edge of the ocean while storm clouds subtly rolled in and black waves towered over her.
“Fuck,” Hope snarled, dragging both of her hands down Lizzie’s back, not caring how the fabric of the shirt felt under her nails. The taller woman increased her tempo, and Hope took to arching her back throat tight with the rhythm of a snare drum. “Please…”
“Please what, Hope?”
She glowered at the woman straddling her; because Lizzie had all the power. Had every inch of it. She was cocky and snide and Hope thought that if they met under other circumstances she wouldn’t be the one pinned down.  “Let me cum”
Lizzie gave her a pointed look and slowed her movements.
“Please,” She repeated, this time softer, with less anger.
Lizzie seemed satisfied enough and worked her fingers harder than she had before, pressing inside of her until Hope felt like she couldn’t quite breathe right, and the stars in her eyes began to circle like a constellation. She pulled herself forward, nose pressed against the side of Lizzie’s neck as she stifled a moan against her hair.
Hope tightened around Lizzie’s fingers and breathed in that same alluring scent of sweet and rain-soaked bliss. She resisted the urge to bit down on something and instead pulled Lizzie closer as she let out a sigh of content, but just as quickly began to ache as the abundance of touch was pulled away.
“That was one hell of an introduction,” Hope panted, swallowing back the taste in her mouth as Lizzie smirked like a wolf. Devious but ever so captivating. Both of her hands were on Hope’s shoulders before she reached to the side and grabbed the half-empty bottle.
“Drink the rest of this,” She commanded and Hope rolled her eyes, “I’m serious, you might have a concussion and-“
Hope shook her head and grasped the collar of Lizzie’s shirt, pulling her close, breath hot on the side of her cheek. “I’m fine.” She rumbled pushing Lizzie away from her gently until the taller woman was laying on her back, despite the musty sofa and the cold rain the poured outside. She ignored the headache and straddled the girl's stomach.
“I think it’s your turn, Lizzie. On one condition.”
Hope traced her fingers against Lizzie’s collarbone, her breath picking up and eyes darting frantically in an attempt to read the misty expression on her face. “And what’s that?”
“I hope you remember how to beg,”  
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readyplayerhobi · 5 years
Text
The Evolution of You and I
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; Hybrid!Jimin x Reader
; Genre: Fluff, light angst, mentions of smut
; Word Count: 10.2k
; Warnings: Mentions of loss of virginity, discussion of sex
; Synopsis: For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?
; A/N: Based on this prompt from @hybridfanfiction! I read it and immediately wanted to do something, so this happened. It��s in a bit of a more unusual format to my other stuff but I hope you all enjoy it anyway :)
-
8 Years Old
“Can anyone tell me what a penpal is?” Miss Kim asks the class with a pleasant tone to her voice, pretty pink lips turned up gently. She’s so pretty, you always think to yourself, and you like to be in her class. She makes learning fun and never makes you feel bad for not knowing things.
Looking around, a few people raise their hands and give answers that get carefully turned down by her before she gives a bright smile, white teeth shining in the harsh lighting. “A penpal, is someone that you write to who lives far away. Sometimes they live in other countries, sometimes they just live in other parts of the same country. Lots of people become friends this way!”
Miss Kim starts to walk around the room and hands out plain, ruled pieces of paper. “We’re going to be penpals with students from another school in Busan. That’s on the other side of the country from us, on the seaside. Each paper I’m giving you has the name of a student that you are going to write to, so tell them about yourselves. Ask them about themselves. Try and make up a friendship!”
“Miss...what do we say?” You ask quietly as she hands you your sheet of paper. A few of the kids near the supplies are handing out packs of coloured pencils and pens and you take a handful of multi-coloured pencils that are pleasing to your young mind.
A letter can always use extra decorations!
“Well...tell them your name and your age maybe. What you like to do for fun. Your favourite film or animal. Whatever you want to say. It’s your letter!” Watching her carefully, you look back down at your letter with a frown and ponder what to write to your potential new friend.
Park Jimin (Boy), is written across the top in Miss Kim’s pretty handwriting. For a moment, you look across the room at the Park Jimin in your own class and marvel at the fact there’s another out there in Busan, only he’s a boy!
Taking hold of the pink pencil, your tongue sticks out cutely as your brow frowns intensely and you begin to write your letter, ignorant of the raucous laughter and yelling of the rest of your students.
Dear Jimin,
Hi! I’m Y/N, a girl! I go to school in Seoul. Miss Kim says you’re in..Boosan? On the seaside? Is it pretty? We don’t have sea here, but the Han river is okay. It smells sometimes.
Do you go to the beach? Are there crabs? I’ve never seen a crab! I like horses. Do you have horses? There’s no horses in Seoul. Do you like horses?
My favourite film is Hercules. I want to be a god too! Wouldn’t that be cool! I can save you if you want?
Please write back!
From, Y/N
Once done, you draw a bunch of tiny horses around the page in yellows, purples and pinks before adding sparkly stars and a crab or two for Jimin. Because he might like crabs, and you don’t want him to miss out on your decoration too.
You also draw a terrible stick person drawing of yourself. Lips pursing in annoyance, you draw an arrow and note down that your head isn’t really that big. It’s like an astronaut, and you don’t want Jimin to think that. He might not like astronaut people and never write back!
“Is everyone done?” Miss Kim calls out from the front of the classroom, hands clasped against her stomach as she waits for everyone to quiet down. You nod repeatedly before smiling at her brightly as you move to the front and hand her your letter. She looks over it before giving you an approving nod and adding it to her stack.
“That’s wonderful everyone. I’ll get these posted as soon as possible and then we just have to wait!”
And so you do, impatiently so and completely unaware that your life had changed for the better.
-
Hi Y/N!
I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you. I live in Busan and the sea is very pretty here. It’s blue, like the sky but more green. It smells funny sometimes too, but I like it. I see crabs a lot! Maybe I can send you one?
I’d like to see the Han river! It’s famous right? In movies and films. And I have no horses, but I have been horse riding! They’re big and scary, but friendly. They don’t really like me though. You should go.
I don’t need saving, but I like Spider-Man films. He saves people too! We can be a superhero team! Wouldn’t that be cool?
What do you like to eat? Do you like seafood? We have lots here, but I don’t like. I like meat, it’s yummy.
Please write back soon!
From, Jimin
-
9 Years Old
Hi Jimin,
It was my birthday yesterday. I’m now 9! Are you 9 too? So you know, my birthday is September 12th. It’s very important, so don’t forget. I’ll draw a picture of my cake for you!
When’s your birthday? Is it soon? Do you like cake too? Who doesn’t like cake? It’s so nice.
School is so boring. I don’t think I like school. Do you? What’s your favourite subject? It’s strange that you send your letters to my house now. I get mail with my name on! My mom puts it on the side for me.
Do you like getting mail too?
Write back soon.
Hugs and kisses, Y/N!
-
Hi Y/N!
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Y/N...happy birthday to you!
My birthday isn’t until October 13th. So you’re older than me! Wow, that’s so cool. I hope you got a good birthday present! My mom helped me to pick out this friendship bracelet so I hope you like it.
I like cake! Your cake looked cool. I hope my cake looks like yours!
I love school! I love maths and science. I like numbers, they’re fun. If you need help, then I’ll try! I want to be a maths teacher when I grow up, it’d be cool. I can teach more kids about maths and get them to love it too.
I like getting mail cos it’s from you. What do you want to be when you grow up?
From, Jimin
-
12 Years Old
Hey Jimin,
So remember that stupid boy I told you about? Jackson? Well he kissed me today and it was totally gross and ewww. Why do grown ups like doing that? It was just...wet and icky. Have you ever been kissed yet?
I also had a maths test today and I think I did bad. I wish I was good at it like you! But I get to do arts tomorrow and I’m excited for that. I like drawing. I’ve drawn you a cute dragon on the back of this letter, so I hope you like it.
Is the weather in Busan nicer than here lately? It’s just been raining all the time and is so grey. Soyeon said we should go to karaoke for her birthday but...I don’t really like it. I’m not good at singing. Are you good?
Write back soon!
Hugs and kisses, Y/N.
-
Hey Y/N,
I’m so glad I got your letter today. It wasn’t a very good day :( these people in my school made fun of me for how I look. It made me upset. I can’t change any of that and it made my mom cry when I told her. I didn’t want to make her cry :(
I haven’t been kissed, but it sounds gross. Maybe I’ll stay away from kissing for a while, I trust you! But I guess maybe you need to be grownup to enjoy it? Who knows. We’re still kids!
And I’m sorry about your test. I hope you did well on it but if not then I’m trying to send you my maths knowledge! Your drawing was so good, you’re so good at it! I got my mom to put it up on my wall when I’d coloured it in for you. Can you draw me one that’s coloured in too so I can put that on my wall as well?
It’s sunny here in Busan! I’ve been going to the beach with my brother a lot and playing with our football. I like running around and doing things outside and we both like to play football. Would you play football with us if we ever met? We’re very fast!
Mom says I have a good singing voice, but I don’t like doing it. It makes me shy. You should go with your friends, it might be fun!
Write back :)
Hugs and kisses, Jimin
-
14 Years Old
To: Park Jimin <[email protected]>
From: Y/N <[email protected]>
Subject: HI!!!!!!!!
JIMINNIEEEEEEEE,
Oh my god. This is our first email, isn’t this weird? O-o
Like…you’re going to get this immediately after I send it! We can talk so much faster instead of waiting for the stupid post. And now we don’t have to worry about writing neatly.
Not that I wrote neatly for you or anything. Cos I totally didn’t.
But still, this is so cool right? My computer is in my living room and my mom keeps track of what I do. Is it like that for you too?
How did your date go with Chaeyoung? Did it go well? I know you were nervous about it but you’re so sweet and kind. I think she’d be missing out if she said no! I’d love to see what she looks like, I’ve never seen a Fennec fox hybrid but I’m sure she’s so pretty and cute.
Argh, write back to me soon please! ^-^
Hugs and kisses, Y/N
-
From: Park Jimin <[email protected]>
Subject: RE: HI!!!!!!!!
\(^U^)/ Y/N!
I’m writing this after only getting it five minutes ago. Isn’t that cool? This is going to make talking to you so easy.
You so wrote neat for me. I can tell. Your writing always got sloppy at the end when you were tired on the longer letters. But it’s okay. I’ll tell you a secret...I used to write neat for you too…
My computer is in my room, but that’s because my brother also has one and my dad has a laptop. They trust me, but they still check my history. So I have to be careful what I go on. I don’t want to get in trouble.
I did take Chaeyoung on a date! I was so nervous ^^; but she said yes! Can you believe that? I almost threw up. She wouldn’t have said yes then. But thanks for having faith in me! ^o^
She’s so pretty. She’s got this...blonde hair that looks like honey and it’s like light is in it. Her ears are so cute too, I bet the fur is soft. I sound sappy, my friends would laugh if I said this. You won’t right? Do...you like hybrids? Some people don’t.
I took her on a date along the beachfront here in Busan. We had dinner at a barbeque place and then went to the movies. I saw Iron Man and it was so cool. Then we had bungeobbang and walked along the front. The sea is pretty at night. Maybe I should take a picture for you? We can send pictures on email right?
Do you still like that Yugyeom? Or do you not want to kiss him because only grown ups do that and it’s icky? Hehe.
Hugs and kisses, Jimin.
-
To: Park Jimin <[email protected]>
From: Y/N <[email protected]>
Subject: RE: RE: HI!!!!!!!!
OH MY GOD. SHUT UP. I WAS 12 AND KNEW NOTHING.
I hate you.
-
From: Park Jimin <[email protected]>
Subject: RE: RE: RE: HI!!!!!!!!
ㅠㅡㅠ
I’m sorry! Come back...please. I swear, I won’t mention it again!
-
17 Years Old
Park Jimin has signed in.
Y/N: Jimin!
Y/N: Jimin!
Y/N: Jimin!
Park Jimin: Jfc what! Let me sign in first u demon
Y/N: So...I went on a date with Eunho yesterday. Said yes 2 him.
Y/N: He took me bowling and I really wanted him 2 kiss me but he was all ‘I’m being a gentleman’.
Y/N: Think my dad said something 2 him :(
Y/N: Do u think he even likes me?
Park Jimin: Y would u think that?
Y/N: Well...he’s a guy! A teenage guy! U r all dumb and hormonal right?
Park Jimin: Am I supposed 2 be supporting u? Or are u trying 2 offend me?
Y/N: Shh, u kno I love u <333
Y/N: But it’s true. Every1 in my class has done it. Why is Eunho being slow?
Park Jimin: Woah woah!
Park Jimin: Not a race! It was ur first date. Calm down James Bond. Mayb Eunho hasn’t done it either?
Park Jimin: I haven’t
Y/N: Ur school is full of dumb girls
Park Jimin: Y?
Y/N: Cus u r cute
Park Jimin: :3
Park Jimin: ^^; <3
Y/N: :( seriously tho…
Park Jimin: Hey...it’s ok. Don’t worry. Pls.
Y/N: K. Did u pass your test?
Park Jimin: :D
Y/N: Omg yay! I bet ur mom n dad are so proud!
Park Jimin: Yeah, they bought me dinner out. I got top in my class…
Park Jimin: I also got voted class president…
Y/N: Omg, my best friend is such a nerd
Park Jimin: >:o
Park Jimin: Y u so mean?!
Y/N: Cos I love u <3
Y/N: Well done tho. I kno u were worried. But I had faith!
Park Jimin: Thanks :)
Y/N: I asked my mom 4 a dog for my birthday btw
Y/N: But she said no :(
Y/N: Cos my parents work 2 much
Y/N: And I’m only home for 2 more years
Park Jimin: Oh no :( sry
Park Jimin: What would u have wanted? A puppy?
Y/N: Yeah...mayb. We couldn’t have a big dog
Y/N: Our apartment is 2 small here, so small dog
Y/N: My friend has a Cocker Spaniel
Y/N: She’s cute, but she jumps everywhere
Park Jimin: Spaniel’s r cute! :D
Y/N: Would u get a dog?
Park Jimin: Nah
Y/N: What?! Y not?! Dogs r the best
Park Jimin: I don’t like the idea :(
Y/N: Y not?
Park Jimin: Cos...I just don’t. Mom n dad wouldn’t get one anyway
Y/N: That sucks. Don’t get fish tho. They’re boring
Park Jimin: Haha, I won’t
Park Jimin: Hey, did u see that new show out? Game of Thrones?
Y/N: Omg yes
Y/N: So much sex
Y/N: My parents don’t want me 2 watch
Park Jimin: But u did?
Y/N: Hehe
-
18 Years Old
Park Jimin has signed in.
Park Jimin: Hi :)
Park Jimin: Hello?
Park Jimin: Y/N??
Park Jimin: Are u there?
Y/N: Hey...sorry. Yeah, I’m here
Park Jimin: ...are you okay?
Y/N: ...no
Y/N: Not really ;(
Park Jimin: Y?! What’s wrong?!
Park Jimin: What happened? Who do I have to 2 hurt???
Y/N: Eunho…
Park Jimin: What?
Park Jimin: Eunho?
Park Jimin: What’s he done? You’ve been dating for 7 months now?!
Park Jimin: Y/N...talk 2 me :(
Park Jimin: Pls
Y/N: We had sex last night
Park Jimin: Ok...but u wanted that? Right?
Park Jimin: I mean...u said u wanted it? That u were ready?
Y/N: :(
Park Jimin: :( what happened?
Y/N: It was awful Jimminie :(
Park Jimin: <3 u don’t have to talk 2 me. Have u talked to Soyeon about it?
Y/N: No...I don’t want 2. It’s embarrassing
Park Jimin: Ok, u don’t have to do anything
Y/N: No, I want 2 talk to u
Y/N: It hurt so much :( and he didn’t care
Y/N: I told him, but he just said it’s supposed to
Y/N: I cried and went home
Y/N: He broke up with me this morning
Park Jimin: I’m gonna kill him
Park Jimin: I’m gonna fucking kill him
Park Jimin: I’ll bite him so damn hard
Park Jimin: The asshole. I knew he wasn’t good enough for u >:[
Y/N: Jiminnie...y are u going to bite him silly?
Y/N: It’s okay. It’s my fault.
Park Jimin: NO!
Park Jimin: It’s NOT ur fault. U thought u were ready and u loved him
Park Jimin: But he was a dick.
Park Jimin: I’ll bite him for you
Y/N: Haha, y u biting people?
Park Jimin: I’m sorry :( please don’t blame urself
Park Jimin: Ur smart and funny and kind. He messed up. He lost something great. Ur amazing, remember that
Y/N: :)
Y/N: Thank u
Y/N: It hurts, and it will. But I’m happier talking to u already
Park Jimin: I’ll always be here 4 u
Park Jimin: As cheesy as that sounds
Y/N: No...I need it
Y/N: I need my best friend right now
Y/N: <3
Park Jimin: <3
-
20 Years Old
Sitting in the uncomfortable desk chair in your university dorm, you chew your lips nervously as the Skype ringtone plays into the silent air around you. Over the years, you’ve had phone calls with Jimin occasionally on special moments, such as your birthday or his.
In recent years, there’s been a few more but never too many. Plus it was expensive after a while. The two of you have preferred to instant message each other on your laptops in your rooms, but now video calling is a thing. A common thing apparently.
You’d been vaguely aware of it, but it hadn’t entered your head to ask Jimin if he wanted to. Particularly given your laptop was not the best. But you’d been given a brand new laptop for Christmas and so had he. There was no reason to not at least try it anymore.
So here you were, in the silence of your dorm room and waiting for the call to connect to Jimin.
Not only were you nervous because you would be talking to him instead of just typing, but it was a video call. You’d only ever seen the occasional picture of Jimin over the years, taken at some odd angle so that half his head was cropped out or something ridiculous like that.
He’d complained that he didn’t like to have his picture taken, but you didn’t understand why. You always remembered him as being pretty cute, though your last photo was from two years ago. So maybe he got really ugly or something.
Who knows? Stranger things have happened.
Looking to the side, you pick up your ballpoint pen to write down a few notes that suddenly enter your head that will be useful for your homework that you plan on doing later. It’s for your stupid required mathematics class, and you’re half wondering if you can get Jimin to stay online long enough with you to help you out.
It still boggles your mind that he’s going to voluntarily be doing a mathematics degree. Like...he actually likes numbers that much.
A soft laugh leaves you as you suddenly remember one of his original letters, where he’d said that he wanted to be a maths teacher. Who knew that he was entirely serious about that?
“Hello?” A quiet voice that was surprisingly husky calls out through your speakers and you look back with widened eyes, taking in the sight on screen eagerly. He must be laid on his bed or something, as his head is really close to the screen and you can almost see down his shirt.
Which immediately causes you to focus on his eyes, because you can’t handle that. You know he still does dance and soccer, even in uni, and he likes to playfully brag about his ‘rock hard abs’. He’s not quite Dwayne Johnson levels of fit though, despite his boasting over the previous year.
“Shit, damn,” You curse as you scrawl across the page in an ugly mark before dropping the pen and looking back at him with a bright smile. “Hi! Jimin! Hi!”
The two of you go silent, the mood slightly awkward between you both as you take in the sight of him. And he’s doing the same to you, big and bright eyes tracking over the image of your face on screen before he’s letting out a tiny laugh, sound hitching on the highest point of his exhale.
He’s got what look like a plain white shirt on, and you frown at seeing the black beanie pulled down over his head, honey-blonde hair covering up dark eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t like hats? You said they hurt your ears?”
You’d always thought that was slightly odd, but if it was painful for him then you’d just accepted what he said. But seeing him on screen with a hat pulled all the way down till the tips of his ears are hiding behind them has you frowning.
Almost immediately you see his tan cheeks flush red even through the combination of a screen and crappy lighting on his end and bizarrely, his hand taps at the top of his beanie, pressing down on the soft material with a slightly panicked look in his eye.
“I don’t...like hats. But...I mean...I just...use them now. I haven’t washed my hair and I did soccer practice today. So it’s gross.” Jimin’s muttering by the end, looking down at something before giving you a shy smile and you feel something flutter in your stomach at the sight.
It’s only then that you properly take him in, noting the softly rounded cheeks that are still filled with baby fat that are juxtaposed with the sharpness of his jawline. His lashes are dark and full, casting a tiny shadow on his cheeks whenever he looks down and you frown at the bizarre mixture of feelings that sizzle in your veins.
Jimin is your best friend, and has been for years. He knows everything about you. Literally everything. Probably stuff guys shouldn’t know, but he knows it anyway. Because he’s always been so easy to talk to and non-judgemental.
You’ve never even considered what he looks like because the pictures are so infrequent and you only cared about him talking to you. Hearing him speak alone is a feast for your ears as you continue to talk and idly discuss your classes in the days since you’ve last messaged, light and high when excited yet hoarse and almost gravelly when he gets serious.
But you’d be the dumbest girl in Seoul if you turned round and said Jimin wasn’t attractive. You felt a little stupid when you realised this, given how long you’ve known him. In fact, Jimin was perhaps the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, and you suddenly felt shy with him as you continue to talk.
Oddly shy, and yet it’s like you’ve always talked face to face. For hours, the conversation flows and you even find yourself doing your homework with the camera facing you, getting Jimin’s help on your maths equations while the two of you discuss dumb stuff.
He even plays his favourite music for you, unfortunately a Chris Brown song, which leads to a whole argument about his music choices. Even if he spends half the argument laughing at your outrage before giving in with raised hands.
You struggle to look at him though, or to at least maintain eye contact with him. Because Jimin is beautiful. And you’re not entirely sure how to handle this information, nor the confused feelings in your body and mind.
-
21 Years Old
“Hey, are you listening to me?!” Jimin calls out, laughter in his voice as he chastises you for ignoring him. Humming lightly, you focus on painting your final toenail before letting out a tiny noise of success and grinning at him.
Shifting the laptop around, you wiggle your toes while they remain in the pink toe separator, nails a pretty purple that shifts colours to green and gold depending on the light. “Aren’t they pretty?” You ask, letting the camera stay on them before Jimin lets out a gross noise.
“Ew yes, god. Please stop. Please stop showing me your feet. I do not have a foot kink. Even if you do have pretty feet.” You snort at that, letting the laptop fall back onto the bed beside you and angling it so you can see the screen again. Jimin’s sat at his desk, a snapback on his head for some reason as he works on a maths project.
He’s always wearing a damn hat when you call, but he just goes all shy and always says he hasn’t showered. Jimin likes to shower in the morning and be clean for the day, whereas you’re a night person. There’s nothing like going to bed clean.
Which means you argue with him all the time. If he’s so unwilling to show his hair because it’s dirty after his dance or gym or whatever then why not shower at night? But he’d then get defensive and point out that he never asks you to change your routine.
True, but still. His hair always looks so soft, and you want to just see what he’d look like. He makes your heart race anyway, and you have the strongest urge to reach through the screen and move the strands of hair out of his face. But you can’t, because that’s not a real power.
“So what’s up? What’s going on in the ever popular life of Park Jimin?” You ask, leaning back on your mound of pillows while wiggling your eyebrows at him. He snorts quietly, pencil scratching over pencil before he lets out a quiet hum.
“Do I look like I’m being popular right? I’m literally sat doing my homework a week early,” He points the rubber end of the pencil to himself with a sardonic smile. “Your bestie is a nerd remember?”
“A cute nerd.” He looks at you with a soft smile before going back to his work.
“Nothing much anyway. I was...thinking about maybe asking Dami out. I think she likes me, she smells like it.” You look up from your romance book at this with a raised brow. He was always using weird phrases like that.
“She smells like it? Do you mean she looks like it?” Chuckling, you shake your head and completely miss the way Jimin glances at the screen with wide eyes.
“Yeah, yeah that’s what I meant. She smells nice, like oranges. It always makes me feel happy.” Your heart clenches at that, face souring slightly and you mentally chastise yourself. Jimin’s obviously happy with her, and he keeps talking about her a lot so he must like her.
“That’s good. If you like her and she likes you then ask her to be your girlfriend or something. I’m sure you can pull the moves out again. Though...if it’s anything like Jisoo then...maybe don’t.” Jimin’s whining at that, his voice doing that odd noise that you can never replicate as he scowls at the screen before pointing his pencil at it.
“You said you’d never bring that up again!” He scowls, plush bottom lip pushed out enticingly as he give you the most adorable puppy dog eyes.
“It’s not my fault you got so excited you literally peed yourself. Like...seriously bro. What the fuck?” Immediately you’re giggling again, teeth biting at your lip as you try to stop it. He’d not talked to you for a whole three days when he’d admitted he’d done that on his first ever date with Jisoo and you’d laughed so hard you’d cried.
He was a little bit sensitive about stuff like that.
“You’re so mean. Why do I put up with you?” He mutters quietly, rolling his eyes before getting back to his work. His version of giving you the cold shoulder, though he can never last long. Not talking to you is like losing a limb of his. Or so he’d said once.
Or rather, he’d said he’d rather give up jerking off for a week than not talk to you for more than two days.
Sweet, but a very bizarre way to put it.
“Because you love me and you’d be completely lost without me?” You tease lightly, poking your tongue out at him before leaning forward to check on your toenails.
It means you miss the way Jimin stares at the screen looking rather forlorn, lips twisting as he reaches out to touch the screen. “Yeah...that’s right.”
-
22 Years Old
“Have you been applying for any jobs yet?” Soyeon asks from the couch as you chop vegetables for the dinner you said you’d cook. Why you agreed to that, you have absolutely no idea but finals were almost over and your schedules had finally aligned.
Which meant that you were finally able to hang out instead of just passing each other like two ships in the night every morning and evening. Soyeon was in a pre-med course which meant that she was ridiculously busy whereas you were completing your final exams before you would be able to proudly graduate with a degree in history.
It wasn’t the most interesting of subjects but you’d found it palatable enough and it also offered up a lot of job options after graduation. Or it would, once you actually found the time to apply for the damn things.
As soon as college finished, you’d be moving back home with your parents before heading back one final time to attend your graduation ceremony. They were happy you were coming back, as they hadn’t been pleased when you’d said you wanted to live in Seoul in an apartment with Soyeon in your third year.
Why do you need to leave our perfectly good apartment and waste money on rent there? Is what they’d asked you frequently, and you’d rolled your eyes before spouting off something about wanting to experience financial responsibility and become independent from your parents in important life decisions.
In reality, you just wanted to have somewhere where you could party or brings guys home without having to sneak them around under the watchful eye of your parents. Not that you’d brought many home that is.
Soyeon had teased you relentlessly over the last two years about your lack of action in the romance department, and you’d tried your hardest to joke your way out of it every time. But she wasn’t stupid, and neither were you.
It was hard to invest yourself in a relationship when your heart was invested hundreds of miles away on the other side of the country.
Didn’t mean you couldn’t fulfil the needs of your body though. And you did, because you were a young and successful woman with a healthy sexual appetite.
“Not yet. I still have two exams left and I’ve been too busy studying for them and working. Need to bring in that cash some way.” You say sarcastically, raising a brow at her before scraping the vegetables into the soup broth. Letting it simmer, you head over and flop down on the couch next to her with a heavy sigh before smiling.
“You? Oh wait, never mind. Dumb question. Have you got your internship placement yet?” Soyeon gives a brief smile before running her fingers over her forehead with a deep sigh. She looks tired, and the bags under her eyes are large enough that you could probably fit a whole department store sale in them.
“Not yet. I think they’ll be telling us where we are in a month or so. But I’m just...so ready for the 12-hour shifts and all that crap.” She groans before flopping down further into the sofa, grabbing one of the pale purple pillows and smushing it over her face.
Laughing lightly, you pat her thigh before becoming distracted as your phone vibrates on the coffee table in front of you. Leaning over, you peer at the screen before grabbing it and unlocking it quickly with your thumb print.
“What’s lover boy have to say?” Soyeon asks, teasing laced into every word and when you look up to glare, she’s smirking in amusement. Pushing at her foot as it pokes your stomach, you stick your tongue out childishly.
“He’s not my lover boy. Just my best friend.” You murmur, opening up Kakaotalk and reading over his message before rolling your eyes. “And an idiot.”
Turning the screen, you let her read his latest message.
[6:24PM] Jiminnie 💖: Hey, question…
[6:25PM] Jiminnie 💖: What’s it feel like to have sex?
Soyeon squints as she reads, probably cursing herself for not wearing her reading glasses, before she’s snorting with laughter and rolling back into the couch. Looking at you, she wiggles her brows. “Tell him you’re willing to show him.”
“Shut up!”
[6:27PM] Y/N: Good. That’s why I do it
[6:27PM] Y/N: Why? Does it not feel good for you? You’re not doing it right then
[6:27PM] Y/N: If it’s burning...you might wanna see the doctor
“Do you not even find it weird that he’s asked you that?” She asks, shifting in position till she’s on her side, cheek squished into the pillow as she watches the latest episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. You’d rather wash your eyes with acid than watch this, but it’s her guilty relaxation programme so you didn’t get to dictate anything to her.
Unfortunately.
“Nope. He’s asked me weirder stuff.” You say distractedly, watching and waiting for him to respond. He’d finished his finals yesterday in Busan, so you had no doubt that he was likely partying it up with his friends before he had to move back into home too.
“You know...if I wasn’t so comfortable in our friendship...I’d feel put out that some guy hundreds of miles away in Busan is closer to you than me,” She pokes you lightly with her toe before smiling. “But it’s good. Unless he breaks your heart. Then I will put my medical knowledge to use.”
[6:32PM] Jiminnie 💖: Haha. Funny
[6:33PM] Jiminnie 💖: No, what does it FEEL like? Like...what does a penis in your vajayjay feel like?
[6:34PM] Y/N: Vajayjay? What are you? Five?
[6:34PM] Jiminnie 💖: Yeah, so answer.
[6:36PM] Y/N: Fine...it feels...like...a dick in your vagina
[6:37PM] Jiminnie 💖: Helpful. Really helpful.
[6:38PM] Y/N: Why do you wanna know?
[6:42PM] Jiminnie 💖: Talking with Taehyung and Jungkook. We wanna know what it feels like, but don’t have anyone to ask except you.
[6:43PM] Y/N: Doesn’t Taehyung have a sister?
[6:44PM] Jiminnie 💖: Omfg yes...but she’s only 19! What kinda sibling relationship do YOU have?
[6:45PM] Y/N: This is true. Okay...it’s like...feeling really full. Uncomfortable if you’re not turned on enough, but...full? And it feels good, but more so when they move. Some girls have a spot that makes it feel even better
[6:45PM] Jiminnie 💖: Do you?
[6:48PM] Y/N: Omfg Jimin. You can’t just ask girls that
[6:48PM] Jiminnie 💖: Well? Do you?
[6:52PM] Y/N: Maybe
[6:54PM] Jiminnie 💖: You so do. We find this fascinating, and yet cannot visualise it at all
[6:55PM] Y/N: So c’mon, what does it feel like for a guy?
[6:56PM] Jiminnie 💖: Well like...tight...hot...wet
You squirm on the sofa at that, thighs clenching together as you suddenly visualise Jimin whispering that into your ear with that deliciously hoarse voice while he’s going deep inside you, hands gripping your thighs.
Shivering, your fingers type on your screen while you glance at Soyeon self-consciously. Nothing like getting horny from texting your best friend while your other best friend lays opposite you. Particularly when neither is aware of what’s going on.
God, would Jimin be texting you this if he knew how you felt about him? Was it even okay to be feeling this for someone you’ve never even met in person? Who knows.
But then you suddenly realise something and look down with wide eyes.
[6:58PM] Y/N: WET? WET?! PARK JIMIN...HOW IS IT WET IF YOU’RE USING A CONDOM? ARE YOU GOING BARE? OMG
[6:59PM] Jiminnie 💖: WHAT? NO...maybe...I mean...maybe once or twice. BUT IT’S OKAY. I SWEAR!
[7:02PM] Y/N: WTF?! JIMIN! YOU’VE NEVER DATED A GIRL FOR MORE THAN 2 MONTHS.
[7:03PM] Y/N: ARE YOU TRYING TO BECOME A YOUNG DAD? OR GET AN STD??
[7:04PM] Jiminnie 💖: Y/N, I swear! It’s okay, I’m okay. Please!
[7:04PM] Jiminnie 💖: I can’t get them from the girls I dated! It’s fine
[7:06PM] Y/N: Wtf do you mean?! Did you get them checked out beforehand or something? Were they on the pill?
[7:08PM] Jiminnie 💖: No, that’s not I mean
[7:09PM] Jiminnie 💖: It just...trust me. Please. I’m okay, I’m clean. I don’t have to worry about kids. It...wasn’t an issue
[7:12PM] Y/N: Jimin...don’t be irresponsible like that.
[7:12PM] Jiminnie 💖: I’m sorry 😞 I didn’t mean to make you worry
[7:13PM] Y/N: I love you Jimin, I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret just for a moment of pleasure okay? You’re my best friend, I care about you ❤️
[7:15PM] Jiminnie 💖: Yeah...you’re my best friend too. Sorry.
Sighing heavily, you drop your phone to your side on the couch before getting up to check on the soup that’s cooking. It’s so hard to hear Jimin talk about girls and dates, all with the knowledge that you want to love him in the exact way he seems to so desperately crave.
But he’s just your best friend.
Your best friend who apparently has unprotected sex with women. It makes you heart hurt for two reasons. One, because you’re worried he’ll do something stupid and get hurt. Two, because despite you reaming him out, there’s a part of you that’s jealous of the girls he sleeps with like that.
Which is ridiculously dumb and you curse to yourself quietly, hitting your head with a spoon until you wince at the pain and rub at the area. Putting it down and staring at the soup is as it cooks, you let out a long sigh that feels like it comes from your stomach.
You may be graduating university and entering the real world, but you were still clueless on what to do with Jimin. Because he owns a rather large piece of real estate in your heart now without even realising it. Does he even realise the important thing he has in his grasp?
[7:25PM] Jiminnie 💖: I love you too. ❤️
-
23 Years Old
Shuffling around on the spot, you contemplate whether you look more casual resting against the large LED sign currently advertising skin lotion or if it looks like you’re trying too hard. Crossing your ankles definitely was trying too hard but you felt like you didn’t know what to do with your limbs.
It felt like you were a big bag full of ants that were currently crawling under your skin. As soon as that metaphor runs through your mind, you shake your head with a grimace before patting your cheeks lightly.
“You can do this, it’s fine. It’s just...it’s just your childhood penpal that you’ve accidentally fallen in love with over the years. No big deal.” And it really wasn’t, because you’d been wanting to meet Jimin for 15 years now.
No amount of letters which eventually turned into emails, leading further into texts and Skype calls could ever compare to seeing someone in person.
You’d done your time of loving Jimin from afar. Surely you should be allowed to do so up close right? He was perhaps the sweetest and most loyal person you’d ever met, even if you’d never met him properly.
But he was Jimin. Your Jimin. And if there was one thing you knew about him, it was that he would be so upset to know that he’d made you feel awkward or nervous. His sweet nature would mean he’d spend the rest of the day giving you those obscenely large puppy dog eyes as he tried to make you smile.
The vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you and you look down with a smile that slowly spreads into a grin as you read the message that pops up, even if there’s a thread of confusion to you.
[1:02PM] Jiminnie 💖: Turn around 😊 Please don’t be mad
Almost immediately you’re spinning around, a scream of pure excitement ready to burst out of your throat when you notice two things that make your eyes widen while you step back in shock.
Firstly, Park Jimin is far more attractive in real life than on camera or in his pictures. He’s taller than he always makes out and you’re a little surprised to find yourself peering up at him. Despite this though, he looks just as slim and lean as you’d always thought.
As if you could just pick him up and spin him around. That does nothing to disguise the toned muscles you eye through his skin tight jeans, leading you to believe that his arms and torso must be equally as buff. Well, he was always doing some form of exercise as it seemed like he had endless amounts of energy.
Jimin’s face is also a work of art, cherubic in its innocence and statuesque in its beauty. Soft, rounded cheeks are tinged a sweet dusky pink that compliments his healthy golden tan, offset by the angular lines of his jaw and his plush lips that he licks at nervously.
You’d always thought that Jimin’s eyes were so sweet and kind, filled with a love that he simply couldn’t hide and you could see that even better now up close. He truly radiated joy and happiness to see you, but there was a ridiculous amount of tension in his body.
And between you both suddenly.
Because the second thing you noticed was atop his head. In amongst the familiar ruffled strands of dark honey-blonde hair are two floppy ears, silky smooth fur a shade or so darker and providing a pleasing contrast to his natural hair colouring. The texture of the fur matches his hair, as if he’s had a shower and spent the time running his hands through it till it’s dried in soft curls and waves.
The hesitant movement of something from behind leads you to peering around him, noting a tail with fur as dark as his ears. It wags slowly yet is very close to his legs, as if he’s unsure whether to be happy or worried.
Jimin is a hybrid.
You’re not sure whether to feel shock, betrayal or excitement at this revelation. He had told you that he had something important to tell you when you met, but you’d just thought that he would was going to say he loved you. Like you were going to tell him.
Not that...that he wasn’t even the same species as you. Or was he? Hybrids were humans right? Or at least part human.
It was with a touch of shame that you realised you weren’t too up on your hybrid knowledge. They had been integrated into human society for a century now. There was no one alive who remembered the days when hybrid’s were created in labs and sold to humans to be treated as glorified servants or pets and used for whatever heinous thing their owner wanted.
No, hybrids had long become normal members of society. They owned property and businesses across the country, educated themselves at the same halls of learning that humans did, were integral members of the government and even had families with other hybrids and humans.
It had taken them fifty years to get their full legal status, and since then they had just quietly integrated. Hybrids were born from other hybrids now, no longer being bred or forcibly bred in captivity.
And while there were humans who still resented the presence of hybrids amongst them in all levels of society, the vast majority had accepted it. Or...as well as humanity could accept anything that was different to them.
Your ignorance was horrifically embarrassing now, and you wanted to go back in time to when you first started writing to Jimin and tell yourself to learn everything you could about hybrids. Because this was Jimin, and it was an intrinsic part of him that he’d obviously felt the need to hide.
Why, you didn’t know. That was something he would need to tell you. At least you now knew why he always wore beanies or hats whenever he video called you. Or why his pictures always cut off at a certain point.
In fact, many of the things he’d said over the years were suddenly starting to make sense and you felt ashamed that you’d never clicked on faster.
“Jimin?” You ask slowly, confusion threaded so deeply into the word as you let it escape your mouth. Almost as if he can tell the emotional rollercoaster you’re going on, he dips his head quickly in response.
A flash of his tongue lets you see him wet his lips while his throat works as he swallows.
“Hi. I’m sorry...about this,” He gestures vaguely to himself and you frown instantly, recognising the negative tone to his voice. Despite your shock about his secrecy about something so important, you feel the intrinsic need to step forward and comfort him. Reassure him that he’s okay.
Though you’re not sure what you’re reassuring him for exactly, so you move forward anyway and place a hand lightly on his arm. He’s got a navy blue hoodie on with a white shirt peeking out from underneath, and you admire the softness of the fabric for a moment before peering up at him and giving him a tiny smile.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ve got a reasonable explanation. How about...how about we go grab  a coffee and then we can find a bench or something? And...we can talk. Because...I’m really going to need an explanation here Jimin. This is not what I was expecting.” His tail had begun to wave enthusiastically at your words and from the deepening pink on his cheeks, you suspect he’s embarrassed that its doing so.
Which is silly. Even you know that dog hybrids can control their tails to a degree but that extreme emotions override any control they may have.
“Sorry.” Gently pushing at his arm and giving him a reassuring smile, you lead him towards a chain coffee shop before tutting at him.
“Please stop apologising Jimin. Please? You know me. You know I’m not going to judge you, I’m just...shocked. I wasn’t expecting this because...well you’ve never made any mention of it before.” You’re positive that he can practically smell the surprise on you at this point, but he just chews at his lip nervously while you enter the coffee shop.
Neither of you get chance to talk after that until after you’ve both grabbed your drinks in to-go cups, a caramel frappuccino for you and a gingerbread cappuccino for him. Why they were selling gingerbread stuff in September, you had no idea.
Either way, the two of you awkwardly head back outside to find somewhere that was a little more private to have what you suspected was going to be one of the most important discussions in your entire friendship with Jimin. And you’d discussed boys with him and sex, so this was big.
After a few minutes of searching around, the two of you settle onto a wooden bench in the middle of the leafy park in silence. It’s pretty here, and you can see the small pond just past the trees on the other side of the path, a few ducks quacking along with two swans gliding along the surface elegantly.
There’s a couple of families sat around the edge, some feeding the ducks pieces of bread despite the warning signs while others enjoy homemade picnics on cute blankets. It’s all so domestic that you can’t help but let out a deep sigh and you relax back, inhaling the delightful scent of nature.
“I’m a King Charles Cocker Spaniel hybrid. Pure. My family can trace our origins back to the very first lab hybrids in our lineage two hundred and sixty years ago. I’m proud of being a hybrid...I want you to know that firstly,” He looks at you seriously, his mahogany eyes filled with a surprising amount of fierceness and you nod slowly. “I just...I’d never had a friend who didn’t know what I was. And despite what humans say and think, there’s still some discrimination there. I just...I don’t know, wanted to talk to you without being asked dumb questions about myself.”
Playing with the cardboard wrap around your cup, you let out a sigh of frustration. “Jimin...why didn’t you just tell me? Surely over 15 years you knew that I wasn’t going to be mad or push you away? I mean...okay I’m a little mad now because you didn’t tell me for that long. But...did I give the impression that I’d react negatively to you or something?”
His ears droop a little at that and you watch in fascination. Jimin’s entire demeanour is timid and filled with trepidation, his slight shoulders hunched in while his tail curls around himself almost protectively.
“N-no...but...when you’ve lied consistently for years then it’s hard to tell the truth. I’m really sorry, I feel so ashamed of myself. Especially when you’d look so happy to see me and I’d be lying saying I was cold in the middle of summer or something. I’m so sorry. I never lied about anything else. This was the only thing.” He shifts in his seat and you can see the desperate need in his eyes to make you see that was being serious.
Sighing quietly, you reach out and place a hand on his thigh. The movement feels oddly natural to say you’ve never met in person, and yet it feels new at the same time. Fizzing excitement in your stomach kind of new.
For a moment, you get distracted at the feel of his firm muscles under the denim fabric, tensing up at your touch while your fingers idly trace unintelligible symbols there. You’re finally doing what you’d dreamt of, hoped of for so long and you can’t help the tiny smile that appears as you do so.
“Jimin...it’s a shock, yes. But only because you lied. The Jimin I know doesn’t lie. Or I guess he does?” There’s a touch of insecurity to your voice suddenly as your mind races through all your interactions with him over the years, wondering if perhaps he’d lied about other things despite what he said.
Immediately though Jimin is placing his cup on the bench before grabbing your hands and tugging them to his chest with a horror-stricken face, head shaking so hard it’s making his hair and ears fly endearingly.
“No, no. I never lied about anything else! This was it! The only thing. It’s not even that important. I have ears and a tail, I have better sense of smell and hearing along with a few traits that still linger but...that’s it. I’m still Jimin. I still love mint ice cream and action films and comic books. I still went to college and studied math, just like I said. I have a job here in Seoul as a maths teacher. I swear, I haven’t lied about anything else. I’m not expecting you to accept this instantly, but please. Please don’t leave me.”
You look him over carefully, noting the sheen of tears in his eyes as he pleads with you to understand him and accept him. His origin wasn’t really that important, not when you’d gotten to know him so well over the years. But still…
“It hurts Jimin. I’m not gonna lie. You lied about something so...fundamental about you. It’s not like you’ve lied all these years about green being your favourite colour instead of yellow. This is who you are. And I don’t know what to think right now. Are you ashamed of yourself?”
He shakes his head vehemently at that, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your hand gently as he focuses on them. “No. I have no reason to be. I have good friends back home and some who moved here too. I have a family who loves me, and being hybrid has never really been brought up. I just...I was a dumb kid who made a stupid decision that I didn’t know how to escape.”
“Jimin...you should have just told me. I wouldn’t have minded. I don’t mind now really. Your ears and tail are adorable, and a lot of the things you’ve said over the years make sense suddenly. I’m just...hurt that you never felt the need to tell me if you’re proud of yourself.” His head dips low at that, lips pouting cutely.
“Because I loved writing to you at first, and pretending to be something I’m not. But then I just loved writing to you. It relaxed me and you knew everything about me, even the stuff my friends and family didn’t. Everything except one of my most defining traits. But I didn’t want to ruin anything because I couldn’t handle the idea that you’d just...ghost me. Because by then I loved talking to you, but I also loved you too.” His confession is everything you’d been hoping for before you’d turned around, only with the addition of a sad apology.
Looking closely at his face, you take in the attractive sight up close in person for once instead of through a pixelated or lagging screen. His eyes are so large and expressive as they watch you carefully with nerves, but you know that when he smiles hard or laughs so intensely he folds over that those pretty eyes almost vanish in happiness.
It’s as you look closely into them, that you realise he’s still your Jimin. Still the Jimin who had terrible spelling when he was only 8 years old and didn’t really know how to articulate himself. Still the Jimin who excitedly wrote to you at 14 to tell you about his first kiss then obviously got embarrassed halfway through. He was still the man who’s voice had gone soft and shy the first time you ever called each other and who’s cheeks had turned a cherry red upon your first video call.
He was your Jimin. Just not with a whole new aspect that you got to explore.
“You love me?” Is all you ask, because it’s all you really care about right now. Jimin can never change what he is, but his feelings can change if you hurt him too much.
He’s quiet for a moment before slowly nodding, that nut-brown hair falling into his eyes as he does so. “I didn’t move all the way to Seoul because they needed maths teachers. I did it because you’re here. And...I wanted to be something more than just your best friend.”
Smiling brightly, you give in to your instinct and reach up to brush it out of his eyes, marvelling at how fluffy the strands feel. Your eyes flick up to his ears, the fur shining healthily and you get the urge to stroke them too. But even you know that no one touches a hybrids animal aspects without permission. They’re often highly personal or sensitive areas and will react badly normally.
But despite never meeting each other before, Jimin knows you perhaps better than you know yourself. And he must read your curiosity on your face as he tilts his head slightly till your fingers butt the base of one; a silent permission for you to touch them.
Hesitantly, you run one finger along the impossibly velvet soft fur on one ear. Without even realising, you’re smiling brightly at how nice it feels. Turning your hand over, you let the backs of your fingers stroke along each ear slowly and simply admire how soft they are.
It’s only then that you notice the way Jimin is leaning closer to you with each stroke, eyes closed and a dopey smile on his face as you do so. You like your hair being stroked and find the feeling therapeutic, so you can only imagine how this feels for Jimin.
Smiling to yourself, you lean forward before you press a sweet kiss to the apple of his cheeks. Almost immediately he jerks away, eyes wide with shock while a hand presses to said cheek as he looks you over.
Moving your hands, you let one rest lightly on his thigh before the other moves to his slim waist as you give him a grin filled with mischief and a tiny bit of nerves. “Your ears are very soft. I hope you’d be okay with me stroking them more.”
Jimin’s lip open and close repeatedly for a moment, the dog hybrid doing a marvellous impression of a fish before he points at himself. “Me? You...you’re okay with me? And what I said?”
Nodding, you shuffle closer to him until you gingerly lean against him, head on his shoulder and take in his clean scent. “Yes. I mean...we’re going to have work on this whole lying to me for fifteen years thing but...yeah. You’re still my Jiminnie. And I still love you just as much as I did before. But no lying to me from now on. I mean it. I won’t forgive it a second time.”
He’s silent then, the atmosphere full of shock and shy nerves between you both. Leaning your head further into his shoulder, you inhale deeply and just take him in for the first time. There’s no overwhelming scent of cologne, but you expect he likely wouldn’t like using most because of his sensitive nose. Most hybrids have to have specially made colognes and perfumes.
Almost immediately your eyes widen as you gasp in shock. “Jimin! You let me send you cologne all the damn time for presents! You couldn’t even use it!”
His shoulder moves rapidly underneath your cheek as he laughs quietly, shaking his head before he shifts till you’re looking up at him. “I appreciated the thought. Asking for hybrid cologne would have given me away. And it got put to use! My friends, Jungkook and Namjoon, are human so they used them. I loved every one you sent though, and even if they were too strong for me...I liked them.”
“Park Jimin! You...you need to tell me what you like. So I can buy you that.” Your lip sticks out almost petulantly as you look up at him, feeling oddly childish with the excitement of what was obviously a relationship between you and the man you’ve loved for years. Neither of you feel the need to ask explicitly, because you just know.
He watches you for a moment with amusement, his tail thumping against the bench and betraying his own happiness as his eyes crease into those familiar shapes that you love and adore so much. A tiny giggle leaves his mouth, high pitched enough to make him squeak before he leans forward and presses the softest kiss to your lips.
It’s nothing major, and yet your first proper kiss with him takes your breath away all the same. Because it’s everything you’ve imagined for years. And yet nothing like what you’ve imagined, because it’s so much more than you could’ve hoped for.
Sighing into him, you lean forward and increase the pressure on his lips until he lets out a tiny gasp of a moan against you, breath puffing against your skin as he pulls away. Leaning his forehead against yours, the two of you simply take in the moment before looking at each other with shy exhilaration rushing through your veins.
“I like you,” He whispers, so close you can feel each word brush your lips and your own spread into a sweet smile. “No, I love you. So...you’re enough for me.”
Watching him so closely, you note how his mahogany eyes have a touch of whiskey amber in the centre, spreading out slowly in a burst of colour. Bringing up a finger, you trace over the impossibly soft skin of his lower lip before you kiss him once more with a tiny giggle.
“I love you too Jiminnie. At least you didn’t pee yourself.”
“Really? Maybe I take it back.”
“No! Don’t. Please. It was sweet.”
“Shut up and just kiss me. Please.”
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jj-lynn21 · 4 years
Text
Roman and Princess: Escape
warnings: angst,
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Roman and Princess stand facing each other. Smiles adorn their faces. Red light baths them in a great hall. Love fills their hearts. Light music plays. Her fingers slid together. Roman's hands swallowing hers.
They are so focused on each other they do not notice the King and Queen stepping up to them. The King cups his hands under Roman's. The Queen puts hers over. They form a circle together engulfing Roman and Princess’ hands in a tight embrace.
"Don't struggle. stay safe. Feel peace. Feel the love that flows between you. Share that love outwardly. There is no reason to want to go. Escape is the hardest thing to accomplish. Stay and the road to paradise is yours." Multiple voices whisper. The great hall echoes with the words.
Roman and Princess cling to each other in the bed, in the suite, within the Castle walls with the shared vision. Their hearts quicken as they try to wake. They can not until the connection unleashes like a rubber band. They wake sitting up. They look to each other knowingly.
"We will leave today," Roman looks to you in earnest. "I promise."
"I feel it won't be easy," you caress his cheek. "They are here."
There is a knock at the door. The King and queen enter before an official permission is given. Their escorts, roughly six, stay outside the door.
"How did you sleep?" The King asked them.
"I think you know," Roman smirked.
Roman gets up. He strutted confidently naked across the room to the closet as the King and Queen watched his every motion as if studying him or waiting for a violent action. Roman knows this. He does not look at them but he knows their eyes follow him.
He takes the dress you came in from the closet and tosses it on the bed. "Get dressed, Princess. we are leaving." He grabbed his dark jeans and slid them on with his black t-shirt.
"You do not enjoy basking in the hospitality you receive here?" The King questioned.
"To be honest," Roman glared at him. "It's fucking overwhelming." 
The king laughed. Roman is in his face within a millisecond. They stare each other down a moment.
"We will be leaving whether you like it or not." Roman growls.
"I think you will change your mind, Roman." Bill walks over to you kneeling at the bedside. He attempts to take your hand. "Perhaps the Princess will convince you to stay, to join us."
You get up and pull your dress on quickly. "I will not." you snarl. "We will be fine on our own."
"As you wish, Princess." the King grins. "Let us go for lunch. Leave them alone as they wish." They leave shutting the door behind them.
Roman tosses a pair of pink lacy panties to you, "Go shower. I can smell your wet pussy and I don't need that distraction right now. we can go out the back way so we don't have to deal with interrupting whomever they are having for lunch."
"I could use a drink, Roman," You whine.
"Get cleaned up now," He ordered. "We have plenty to drink on the plane. I'll take care of you. You won't fucking starve. I don't see you fucking moving."
You rush off to shower. You have to admit to yourself that Roman getting up in Bill's face turned you on a little. Roman just taking charge of the whole thing just hit all the right emotional buttons. And he could tell. But if he didn't want your desires distracting him you would do your best to stay calm and focus on leaving with him.
when you come out dressed and refreshed, Roman is pacing. He stops and looks at you.  "Its to fucking quiet." He starts pacing again. "I can always hear one of them, all of them, a full casino. Its to fucking quiet."
You listen to the unimaginable silence. "Your right, Roman. Let's just get out of here, please."
"You bet, Princess." Roman took your hand before going out the door.
You and Roman walk out into the hallway. The silence is even more defining if that is possible. You headed towards the back elevator.  the hallway seemed to stretch longer than it had originally seemed. The door at the end smaller. As you finally got closer it took on a cavern look. Roman opened the door to get to the elevator. You took a deep breath like it was forced.
As you let the air out of your lungs you and Roman were standing in the suite as though you had never attempted to leave. A puzzled feeling came over you as you did the same again.  And a third time before Roman's psyche caught up completely with the spell.
"Fuck, we can't get out the normal way." Roman brows knitted together in thought. "My mother told me stories when I was young that Castles always have secrets. we will find those secrets. That will help us leave."
"Whatever we need to do, I'm with you Roman." You were concerned this palace was your fate.
"Don't worry,Princess." He kisses your lips. 
You and Roman left the room going left instead of right. The halls were empty. The throne room to. You were able to take the elevator down to the casino floor. The front door was open. The light streaming inside was bright and hot.
Roman grabbed you back from heading out into the light. "The doors are not the way out,Princess. That is why they look so easy to go out."
He pulls you the opposit way of the empty casino. When you find another hall with doors, Roman ponders there for a moment. "push on the walls between each door."
"What do you expect to find,Roman." You asked curiously.
"I don't expect anything," He said agitated from his hunger and the situation. "Just do as I say. Expecting anything but the outcome of giving in will only hold us here longer."
"How do you know that," you crabbed at him a little.
"I just fucking do," he yelled at you. Now go between the rooms on the left. I will be on the right." He pressed between two doors.
It seems like hours pass in the hallway. Exhaustion and hunger had warped your perspective or perhaps its something else. You start to fall to the ground and Roman catches you. He is also exhausted and hungers but he is moslyt focused on getting out.
"You are fucking dead," Roman screams out as he hold you. "Not only are we never coming back here, consider your club in Hemlock Grove closed indefinitely. Fucking whatever you call yourselves. We will never be part of you."
He bites his wrist and lets you drink until your eyes flutter open. "Just stay with me, Princess."
Roman picks you up. He kicks at the walls as finally a room between the rooms is revealed. He pushes through into a large library where he falls on the nearest chair to rest.
"I just need a minute, Princess." He said before passing out. You passed back out in his arms.
You start to come to slowly as droplets of blood drip on you dry lips. Someone in a black cloak stands above you and Roman. She is attempting to nourish you both with her wrists slit. You and Roman feed hungerly.
"That good," A familiar voice praised. "Just enough to feel revived won't hurt you. You won't hurt me. Just drink young ones."
You and Roman realize who it is as you get you wits back. You both pull away quickly. She heals herself.
"This doesn't mean we will stay with you and your husband, Jen," Roman stands towering over her.
"I am fine with that, Roman." She sighed. "Disappointed but, fine. I think my husband has gone overboard in trying to get you to come into the fold. I'm sure my Father will punishment him. He should have never developed such an elaborate test to keep you here or let you perish. Take the metal stairs up in the next room" She points them in the right direction. "You will take them up but really be going down under the castle. You will come to a ladder in a mile. When you go up that ladder and open the door at the top you will be feets away from your plane. It is gassed and packed with our special wine and blood bags. I am truly sorry you have decided to go, but I understand."
"How can we trust what you are telling us is true?" You stood alongside Roman feeling better.
Roman crosses his arms as he stares her down waiting for an answer to your question. He was unsure whether to trust her either.
"You have no real reason to trust me other than I saved you from possible death." Is her retort. "I need to get back to my husband. I don't believe he is well. He has never enjoyed watching suffering or others squirm or die for his amusement. I'm sorry again. Now go."
She rushes out the hidden door that led you to the room. You and Roman found the staircase. It did seem like a very long way before the end of the tunnel when the ladder was waiting. You climbed it first with Roman right behind. You were so happy to see his plane when you opened the manhole cover you just wanted to run to it. But you waited for Roman.
As soon as you were both on the plane Roman shut and locked the door. He looked out the window to see if anyone was around. There still is no one. You took the co-pilot seat buckling up. He did all his checks and told you what he needed you to do as he strapped in to take off. As the plane left the ground your perception of the area changed. Several people on the ground waving you away. Others lined up in a crowd in front of the packed casino ready to get in for a fun night.
You just wanted to get to Hemlock Grove. It was a strange place but it was home for you and Roman. It was the only place you wanted to call home ever.
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maxrev · 4 years
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A Day in the Sun
Written for Kaidan Week 2019 for @spectrekaidanalenko 
This is a Little Mermaid style AU with mshenko and happened after @shotce tagged me in this beautiful piece of art. It’s been brewing in my head ever since ;)  
With a flick of his sapphire tail, the merman swam effortlessly through the water. It propelled him through the ocean, sapphire scales sparkling and glowing in the patches of sunlight shining through the water above. 
The merman loved his world and everything about it; the water sliding against his skin as he swam, the animals living in the ocean he could swim and commune with, and the beautifully ornate underwater castle he lived in. And of course, the dazzling array of bright colors found everywhere under the sea. 
And yet…
Something was missing. He wasn’t sure what but knew when he found it he’d feel whole, complete in a way he didn’t now. It wasn’t something he could share with anyone, either. Even his best friends, Jeff and Ashley, looked at him strangely when he tried to explain. 
Jeff was a red crab and Ashley was a bright yellow and blue tropical fish. Both of them thought he was nuts. Add to that, Jeff was a servant of his father, King Anderson. He was appointed to look after Kaidan, as if he couldn’t be trusted to do such a thing on his own.
Although, his two friends did always seem to be pulling him out of trouble in some way or other, so maybe it was warranted, though it chafed at him. 
Kaidan never actually went in search of trouble. There was just...something...calling him, urging him to try everything, go everywhere in the hopes he could fill this peculiar longing. 
The human items he found after a shipwreck or the random bits pulled into the ocean from the beach fascinated him. Humans fascinated b him. He had no idea what use most of the trinkets he found were for but he liked to pretend he knew.  He made a game out of it and thought the knowledge he imparted made him look smart, though most of the merpeople just shook their heads. 
They stayed far away from humans and anything to do with them. 
Kaidan had a secret stash of his treasures, kept away from prying eyes. Most especially those of his father. King Anderson didn’t approve of his son’s fascination with humans. 
Sometimes, Kaidan would wait until nightfall, knowing he was not supposed to be on the surface so late, and swim as close to the beach as he dared hoping to find more trinkets to add to his collection. 
Once, during the day, he’d hid behind a group of rocks, slipping down into the water if anyone looked his way. Observing the humans on the beach had become an obsession. 
Jeff had nearly had a heart attack while Ashley just rolled her eyes and urged him back home. 
And then, one day…
A bad storm moved over the ocean causing a ship to wreck on the very rocks he’d hid behind to watch the beach goers. Pieces of the wreckage had washed up on shore, while some still floated in the soft waves after the  storm passed. Kaidan was unable to resist his rampant curiosity or the pull of daring adventure to investigate. 
Uncaring of the consequences, ignoring the frantic calls of Jeff and Ashley’s increasing frustration, he swam through the wreckage, looking for anything to add to his treasure trove. He did try to remain hidden amongst the bits of wood and barrels bobbing in the surf.
At least, until he spied something up on the beach, unsure what it might be. His heart beat a fast staccato tempo, aware of the dangers he faced but also because of the exciting allure of the unknown.
Flipping his tale to maneuver over the sand, he found a human man lying half in and out of the shallow waves, unconscious. Kaidan lay down beside him. 
The man didn’t move, though he could see the strong, muscular chest move up and down with regular breaths. His white shirt, wet and transparent, clung to his skin. On his lower half he wore some kind of black material, soaked through, hugging each strong leg, the ends tattered and frayed. Kaidan had never seen anything like it. At the man’s waist was a long piece of red ribbon and his feet were bare. 
He was the most beautiful human Kaidan had ever seen. Unable to look away, he continued to study him from head to toe.
Kaidan reached out a hand, wanting to touch him but pulled back before his fingers met skin, afraid. King Anderson said they should never let humans see them, never interact with them. It was dangerous, an absolute taboo in their world. 
Yet, this human would never know. Neither would his father or anyone else for that matter. 
What harm could there be? His inner voice taunted him. None, he answered. 
Fingers trembling with fear but feeling a bit like a devil fish, Kaidan let his fingers glide over the man’s short hair. So short it almost wasn’t there. He’d expected it to be rough but was pleasantly surprised at the velvety feel. Lost in sensations, his fingertips trailed down over the thick brows following the prominent cheekbones down to wide, full lips. They were so soft despite looking chapped. Cupping the strong jaw in his hand, he delighted in the rasp of stubble. 
Succumbing to the moment, he began to sing softly --
What would I give to live where you are?
What would I pay to stay here beside you?
What would I do to see you smiling at me?
Where would we walk, where would we run
If we could stay all day in the sun?
Just you and me
And I could be
Part of your world
I don't know when
I don't know how
But I know something's starting right now
Watch and you'll see
Someday I'll be
Part of your world
He heard a noise, stopping mid song and looked up, eyes widening in fright. He had to go. Now!
Turning to gaze at the man one last time, he saw a sliver of blue as his eyes began to open and wake up. A blue so vivid, so pure, neither the sea nor sky could compare. 
As he slipped back into the water, Kaidan knew he’d never forget this moment. 
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possiblyelvenwrites · 5 years
Text
Two’s Company
[link to Ao3 | part 3 in a series]
(Possible tw: Canonical death mention, survivor’s guilt)
Every day it seemed like Sidon learned something new about his merman friend. Some of it seemed rather obvious, when he thought about it, such as the fact that Link hadn’t had the opportunity to eat grilled or baked foods before. In fact, many of the ingredients themselves were unknown to him, as tethered to the sea as he was.
Sidon had given bags of coins to the palace chefs in thanks for the feast now packed into a large basket. It contained all of Sidon’s favorites, as well as others he knew various members of the royal court enjoyed. Each was taken out in order and explained - Glazed beef, Link! The shine is made by honey; Fried wild greens, with radishes from the kitchen gardens, you see; Crab risotto, that one is Chef Runo’s specialty! - earning various noises of curiosity or delight from Link. He’d practically vaulted out of the bay as soon as he caught a whiff of the salt-grilled carp, snagging it from Sidon’s hands and dropping to the hard stone, devouring it eagerly while Sidon watched in awe.
It seemed as though Link needed a lot of food, though whether this was a trait all merfolk shared or just Link himself, Sidon couldn’t say. He supposed it made sense, though; after all, Link had to hold himself up in the water constantly, or else lean on something to keep his head above water when visiting with Sidon. That had to take energy. And how far did the other go when he disappeared for days or weeks at a time?
Sidon was startled out of his reverie by something hitting his knee with a wet smack . Blinking, he looked down, finding a round little sprout now innocently laying next to him on the ground. He raised his gaze to Link, who was looking at the vegetable as if it had personally offended him. Sidon laughed, flicking the sprout away from them.
“Yes, I agree. They never tasted good to me either.”
The accusing gaze was lifted to his face. And you fed them to me anyway? That isn’t food.
Sidon grinned at him. “I’m so glad to have someone on my side. My father and Mipha always…” Sidon trailed off, unable to continue as Link seemed to have lost his mermind.
The merman was hitting the stone in excitement, leaning forward. As soon as Sidon stopped, he began signing, the same word over and over. It looked like the sign for “gentle”, but one hand stayed balled up; it took the prince a minute to realize that it was the sign for the letter M. There was no mistaking Link’s meaning. Somehow, the merman knew his sister’s name.
“Mipha? You know of Mipha?”
Link’s grin was blinding. Friendly healer. She helped me when I was hurt. Fin torn, unable to swim properly. She healed. She hasn’t been around. Where is she?
Sidon swallowed, looking away. “She drowned at sea, many years ago now. I wasn’t much more than a child.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Link recoil and his smile drop, blue eyes wide in shock. He swam to one side, trying to catch Sidon’s eye again.
No. Mipha was a good swimmer. Strong.
“Not stronger than a storm. It came out of nowhere, they said, ended up taking down the ship. Only a few survived, and even they came back near death.”
Link shook his head back and forth, seeming to get caught in the motion. He shook his hand at the same time, a clear and staunch refusal. Sidon grit his teeth. He’d held this pain for over half his life, and here Link was acting like he was playing some sort of practical joke.
“What do you mean, no? You think I would make something like that up?”
Link moved one hand to press against his ear, the other moving in a jerky motion in front of his chin. Sidon didn’t know it, but he could guess: Liar. Liar. Liar. Sidon felt something break inside his chest, like a bowstring pulled too taut until it finally snapped under the pressure.
“I’m not a liar!” He yelled back, pushing himself to his feet and stepping back from the water. Hot tears stung the corner of his eyes. “I wish she was here! She would be so much better at - at all of this. What about you? You want me to believe she knew a merman and never told me? If you were such good friends, where were you when her ship went down?”
Everything seemed to freeze in that moment. Link stared at Sidon, no longer moving, eyes wide in both disbelief and hurt. Sidon stared back, hand slamming over his gaping mouth, horrified by the words that had sprung out unbidden. It was as if all his anger evaporated in that moment, leaving only grief and guilt. It felt like an eternity before Link turned tail and fled the cove. Sidon ran after him, nearly falling in the shallow water.
“Link! I didn’t mean it - I’m sorry! Come back!”
But it was too late. The young man had disappeared beneath the waves, and Sidon had a terrible feeling that this time, he wouldn’t be coming back.
-
He stopped going to the cove.
It hurt too much; the silence of the still water, the emptiness of the bay. The echo of his shouts ringing off the walls and the ghost of Link’s look of horror and betrayal. The beeswax sheets that had been carefully wrapped around food lay abandoned. Cleaning them up would have felt too real, too final, and Sidon couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He pulled away from Hamara, begging off his lessons with the excuse of not feeling well. That was true enough, at least, though his poor constitution had less to do with his body and far more to do with his heart. He felt new waves of grief over his sister, a loss that he tried to avoid thinking about more than necessary. At least with his mother, he hadn’t known her before her death. Mipha he could remember her face, her voice, though it seemed to get cloudier with each passing year. Anger, definitely, both at Link for pushing him so and at himself for driving one of his few real friends away. An aching loneliness, now that he had no one to talk to, not anyone he could trust to keep his secrets and thus share his deepest thoughts with.
There was another feeling, one that confused and scared him if he spent too much time thinking about it. It felt like his soul was pulling him back to the water, screaming to wade out into the ocean after Link. It was preposterous! He knew he couldn’t swim nearly far enough to find Link, wherever the man disappeared to when not in the cove. Besides that, the ocean was huge and he was just one man. The odds of him finding Link without any clue as to his whereabouts was astronomical.
And then there was the part that made his heart seize, painful in his chest. What if Link didn’t want to see him again? What if he’d driven off Link for good with his cruel words? He wouldn’t exactly blame him. He’d practically accused Link of causing Mipha’s death. He wouldn’t want to speak to himself again, either.
Which is why it was so startling when something grabbed his ankle while he was sitting at the end of a dock, lost in his own darkened thoughts. He pulled his foot away with a yelp, kicking to make the hand release him and scrambling backwards until he was fully on the dock. Cautiously, he shuffled back to the edge on his hands and knees.
Blue eyes met his, large and unreadable. The rest of Link’s face was obscured underwater, golden hair flowing around him in a messy halo. One hand raised above the water, just enough that Sidon could read his signs. C-A-V-E. Before Sidon could respond, he dropped beneath the water again, speeding off towards their usual meeting place.
Part of Sidon wanted to be petty, to stay on the dock or return to his rooms. But a much larger part of him, the part that had tugged him towards the dock and yearned for the sea since before he could remember, would have none of it. His feet were under him in a flash, and he found himself sprinting for the cove.
By the time he entered, Link was waiting, anxiously swimming from the mouth of the bay to the innermost point and back again. He’d risen enough for Sidon to see that his normal adornments of shells and belts were missing, except for a simple loop with a pouch hanging off and a single strand of irregularly shaped stones. They looked to be a cloudy blue with blooms of black mottling the surface. Link moved to the edge of the bay, fiddling with something under the water. Sidon rushed to meet him, kneeling down.
“Link, my dearest friend, I am so sorry for my outburst when we last met. Truly, my upset was less with you and more with the situation - I am afraid my temper can get the better of me, when Mipha is involved…”
Link shook his head. No apologies. I was wrong. Not you. Sidon’s voice died in his throat, unsure why that admission made him feel so relieved. He managed a small smile, sitting back on his heels. He had to clear his throat a few times before replying.
“How about we both take some of the blame? The topic is rather… tense.”
Link nodded, expression still somber. He reached into the pouch at his hip, fishing out a necklace that matched his own and offering it up to Sidon. Sidon took it with careful fingers, letting it splay out over his other hand. Link tapped his thigh, getting Sidon’s attention again before signing.
Merfolk custom. When a family member or friend dies, ornaments go away for a while. Only sorrow stones.
Sidon felt as if something large and unwieldy had suddenly lodged in his throat. As Link watched, expression cautious, he pulled it over his head, feeling the weight settle on his chest. “...Thank you. That means a lot.” For a moment, Link just watched him, as if weighing his options. Then he raised his hands again.
Another gift. More personal. Take it, please.
Sidon blinked at him, surprised, but obediently held out his hands for whatever Link planned to give him. The second object was withdrawn much more carefully, and Sidon could feel tears welling up the moment it came into sight. It had been years since he had seen it, but he would never forget his sister’s favorite silver collar. Masterfully crafted, the lines curved around her neck while three drops of aquamarine fell gracefully off the bottom.
His feet fell sideways beneath his legs, shoulders dropping as he held the collar with the reverence one might give to Hylia herself. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, dropping down onto his trousers, marring the silk. He couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. He knew Mipha had taken this collar with her on that fateful journey.
Link shifted back and forth in the hazy background of his vision, nervous. Had he been wrong, to look for the wreck? To find the body of the fallen princess and bring back what he could? After a moment, he began signing again, though he was fairly certain Sidon wasn’t paying attention.
I tried to bring bones. Not stable enough. Falling apart. I’m sorry. I brought what I could.
To his surprise, Sidon gave a watery chuckle, fingers tightening on the jewelry in his hand. “No, no that’s… quite alright, Link. Thank you. You have… you have no idea what this means to me, my dearest, dearest friend.”
Sidon could hear Link’s sigh of relief, the young merman sinking back into the water for a moment. Then he slowly rose back up, bracing his hands on the rock to keep himself steady. Very gently, he pressed a soft kiss to Sidon’s cheek before lowering himself back into the water. Sidon glanced up, reluctant to look away from the collar but needing to see Link’s expression. The merman wore a fond smile, tail flicking in the water.
I leave you to yourself, now. Link pushed himself deeper into the water, keeping his eyes on the prince. Sidon almost called him back, but truthfully, he did wish to be alone with this sweet reminder of his sister. Link waved as he reached the mouth of the cove. I come back soon, Sidon. My dearest friend.
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kylorenpunk · 5 years
Note
Payback is a bitch. Do them all.
“itAy thanks for curing my evening boredom
1. Who was the last person you held hands with?
     I think it was my friend Elli during a service project or my friend when we went to the movies (we occasionally pretend we’re a couple when we go to the movies lmao) 
2. Are you outgoing or shy?
    Shy. It was super hard to make friends during grade school. But if you put me with the right people I can be outgoing. 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?
     My friend group tomorrow. I think we’re playing smash again? 4. Are you easy to get along with?
     I think so? I have no idea tbh. I know I was a bitch when I was younger though. Hopefully I don’t put off those vibes now 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?
     The only time we interacted I was drunk so no lol. 6. What kind of people are you attracted to?
     Tattooed, nerdy vibes, can make me laugh, nice eyes, idk I just like guys ok7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?
     HA. Nope. 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?
     Romantically? or friendship? Also bold of you to assume whoever does these are straight. To answer, my friends who are all homies. 9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?
     Depends on the subject. I am always down to make sex jokes but don’t fucking tell me the shit you did with your SO the other night.10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?
      I’m always down for deep convos tbh so I do this frequently. I think the last full length deep convo I had was with Jessica though? 11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?
      “LMAO” to Joey bc I rick rolled his ass. Bitch apparently I’m always texting you?   12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?
       According to spotify it’s: Alexander HamiltonGoodbye Yellow Brick Road (Sara Bareilles’ cover) When I Was Your Man (Aaron Tveit’s cover) The Greatest Show The number one song is one I don’t listen to any more so I’ll replace that with the song I’m listening to “How Far I’ll Go” 
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?
      God yes. That’s the BEST feeling. 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?
      Not really miracles. But I do believe in luck in a sense 15. What good thing happened this summer?
      My birthday. Going to Chicago. 16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
      Sure I’ll kiss my mirror again. Sorry y’all I don’t kiss and tell.17. Do you think there is life on other planets?
      Absolutely.18. Do you still talk to your first crush?
      I have had so many I don’t remember my first crush. And I know for a fact I didn’t start talking to crushes till the middle of high school19. Do you like bubble baths?
      No I hate baths. I think it’s gross. 20. Do you like your neighbors?
      I like their dogs. Especially the beautiful pit I get to dog sit 21. What are you bad habits?
      I get very nervous very easily. I’m unsure of myself. I’m also messy.22. Where would you like to travel?
      New York and Europe 23. Do you have trust issues?
      Who doesn’t? 24. Favorite part of your daily routine?
      When I go to sleep.25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?
      My stomach. 26. What do you do when you wake up?
      Check my phone. It’s really bad. 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?
      Neither. I like my skin color even though I’m pale as fuck. 28. Who are you most comfortable around?
      I’ll have to say my friends Yara and Josephine. Love all my other friends and no offense to y’all I’m just really self conscious 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?
      LMAO one basically did the other day. At least he regrets how he treated me. That’s some tea. 30. Do you ever want to get married?
      Hell yeah. Am I currently ready for it? Hell naw. 31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?
     She’s too long. I really want to cut her but that costs money. 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?
      Chris Hemsworth and Anne Hathaway. Or Vanessa Hudgens33. Spell your name with your chin.
      done. That was strange? 34. Do you play sports? What sports?
      I did soccer for one season when I was 6. I spent most of the time playing with my hair. That was the end of my athletic career. 35. Would you rather live without TV or music?
      TV bc we have netflix and hulu 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?
      Tons of times. It’s my brand. 37. What do you say during awkward silences?
      I’ve been doing shitty mouth pops recently. I also start rambling about my day.38. Describe your dream girl/guy?
      Someone that puts up with my bullshit 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?
      TJ Maxx. Ulta. Target. I don’t shop often. 40. What do you want to do after high school?
      I’m outta that shit hole. Have been for 5 yrs. 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
      Of course. 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?
      I’m listening fully and don’t really have anything to contribute yet. 43. Do you smile at strangers?
      Working at a hotel has forced me to. I hate it. 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?
      SPACE MOTHERFUCKERS - the ocean freaks me out45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?
      Needing to pee, hunger or work 46. What are you paranoid about?
      EVERYTHING. Mainly the future tho 47. Have you ever been high?
      Nah. Not opposed to it though. 48. Have you ever been drunk?
      Yep. I get really touchy. It’s weird. 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?
      Stalk people’s social medias? 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?
      Grey 51. Ever wished you were someone else?
      I wish I was Vanessa Hudgens. 52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?
      I won’t write it here 53. Favourite makeup brand?
      NYX. Cheap and good. 54. Favourite store?
      Target 55. Favourite blog?
      My own. 56. Favourite colour?
      Pink or Green. Depends on the day.57. Favourite food? 
      Anything with pasta or rice 58. Last thing you ate?
      pasta 59. First thing you ate this morning?
      beef jerkey. I have weird cravings60. Ever won a competition? For what?
      For being the world’s most emotional bitch 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?
      Hell no. Stay in school kids. 62. Been arrested? For what?
      Nope.63. Ever been in love? 
      Yep. Still don’t kiss and tell. 64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?
      I know I just said I don’t kiss and tell but this isn’t talking about the person. Wet. Gross. Sloppy as fuck. They were shit at kissing. 65. Are you hungry right now?
      Nah. 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?
      I have one tumblr friend. He’s a pal. 67. Facebook or Twitter?
      Twitter68. Twitter or Tumblr?
      Twitter. I’ll make one for this blog soon. 69. Are you watching tv right now?
      No I’m listening to Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson. 70. Names of your bestfriends? 
      Kim, Michelle, Jessica71. Craving something? What?
      Nothing. 72. What colour are your towels?
      Pink and green72. How many pillows do you sleep with?
      It used to be two until I got a new giant pillow this week. 73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?
      I have them. I don’t sleep with them. 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?
      Four. I just counted. 75. Favourite animal?
      Meerkats 76. What colour is your underwear?
      Pink. 77. Chocolate or Vanilla?
      Vanilla 78. Favourite ice cream flavour?
      Strawberry79. What colour shirt are you wearing?
      Grey and pink 80. What colour pants?
      Dark grey and green - I’m in house clothes I don’t match 81. Favourite tv show?
      Jane the Virgin 82. Favourite movie?
      Hairspray 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?
      Mean Girls. The second one was trash 84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?
      Mean Girls85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?
      SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE 86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?
      Bruce87. First person you talked to today?
      Joey?88. Last person you talked to today?
      Joey. What the hell. 89. Name a person you hate?
      Hm they don’t need their name here90. Name a person you love?
      My brother91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?
      Someone from work 92. In a fight with someone?
      Nah I don’t deal with that bs 93. How many sweatpants do you have?
      None. I do leggings tho ( I think I have 7 or 8)94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?
      2 hoodies 95. Last movie you watched?
      The Green Book96. Favourite actress?
      Anne Hathaway? 97. Favourite actor?
      Mark Hamill 98. Do you tan a lot?
      I burn a lot. I’m pale99. Have any pets?
       No 100. How are you feeling?
        Alright. Kinda pumped bc my fav cover of Come Together came on (from the Justice League movie)101. Do you type fast?
        Yes but this is still taking me a while to get through 102. Do you regret anything from your past?
        Hell yeah. No tea is being spilled tho103. Can you spell well?
        If I have a pen and paper I’m decent. 104. Do you miss anyone from your past?
        I miss some ppl yeah. Adulting sucks bc you can’t see everyone all the time105. Ever been to a bonfire party?
        Lol that was the only rebellious thing I would do in high school 106. Ever broken someone’s heart?
        Not that I know of? 107. Have you ever been on a horse?
        Yes I love horseback riding 108. What should you be doing?
        Studying for the GRE109. Is something irritating you right now?
        Boring drama stuff. I won’t go into details. I’ll get over it. 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?
        Everyone has. 111. Do you have trust issues?
        Sis you already asked this. Yes. 112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?
        My mom? I was crying bc I could fit into old shirts 113. What was your childhood nickname?
        Family calls me Kari. Friends call me Rina114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?
        Yep. Last month. 115. Do you play the Wii?
        We play Netflix on the wii116. Are you listening to music right now?
        “I am Woman” by Jordan Sparks 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?
        Only from a can. I hate soup. 118. Do you like Chinese food?
        Fuck me up with crab rangoons 119. Favourite book?
        Eragon120. Are you afraid of the dark?
        I don’t like not being able to see. So sure. 121. Are you mean?
        I’m a dick to those I care about. Sorry. 122. Is cheating ever okay?
        Absolutely not. Dump their ass. 123. Can you keep white shoes clean?
        Nope. 124. Do you believe in love at first sight?
        I believe in infatuation at first sight125. Do you believe in true love?
         Not sure 126. Are you currently bored?
        I was till I started this 127. What makes you happy?
        anime, superheros, nerdy shit, music and makeup 128. Would you change your name?
        No. I used to want to as a child. 129. What your zodiac sign?
        Cancer. 130. Do you like subway?
        No. It’s gross. 131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?
        Politely decline132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?
        Already answered. 133. Favourite lyrics right now?
        “Yoko Ono, she got that Yoko OnoYou know that shit that made John Lennon go soloKnow that shit gotta be lethalIf that pussy broke up The Beatles” - Jay Z
Murder by Justin Timberlake (Featuring Jay Z)134. Can you count to one million?
        I could. I don’t want to though.135. Dumbest lie you ever told?
        Not sure. 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?
        Closed. 137. How tall are you?
        Five foot. Three inches. 138. Curly or Straight hair?
        My hair is wavy. I like both.139. Brunette or Blonde?
        I’m a brunette140. Summer or Winter?
        summer141. Night or Day?
        day 142. Favourite month?
        october143. Are you a vegetarian?
        nope but i’ve considered. 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?
        dark chocolate. I’m old. 145. Tea or Coffee?
        tea - coffee gives me the shits 146. Was today a good day?
        It was decent. 147. Mars or Snickers?
        Mars148. What’s your favourite quote?
        “It’s not who we are underneath, it’s what we do that defines us.” - Batman Begins 149. Do you believe in ghosts?
        Yes and No150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? (via catscuddlingandyou)
         GRE prep book “Directions:” It said more but my fingers hurt from typing all day. 
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gripefroot · 3 years
Text
Date Night
Tumblr media
“It’ll be fine, babe, you don’t have to worry.” 
Bucky offers this with a grin, opening the passenger door for you as you quirk a brow before you slide into the seat. The door closes. You adjust your skirt, and when he’s in the driver’s seat, starting the ignition, you say,
“I’m not worried at all. You don’t have to act like I’m the one having a hard time with this.”
Bucky glances at you with narrowed eyes. But you grin, and he gives a huff of laughter.  
“Let me pretend, at least,” he says jovially, and the car begins to move down the long driveway. “Never would’ve thought I’d be so reluctant to leave the twins with Steve and Sharon so we can have a night out.” 
“I suspected,” you tease. “I’m surprised you didn’t break down sobbing, to be honest.” 
“You’re a pill, you know that?” 
“I’ve been told that before.”  
Idly you weave your fingers through Bucky’s on the gear shift. He glances over with a lopsided smile - the kind that makes your stomach flutter - before his eyes return to the road. You rest your head against the seat, letting your lips curl into a smile as you study Bucky’s profile: sharp jaw, scruffy chin, a grin, and his sparkling eyes. His long hair is tied back. You can’t wait to mess it up later.  
“Got anything under here, babe?” he asks, and slides his hand from beneath yours to rest on your knee - then slowly slides it up, skewing your skirt.  
“Why don’t you find out?” you purr, and Bucky coughs slightly.  
“It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?” 
“The climax of the date doesn’t have to be at the end, Bucky,” you point out. “You know that. And who’s the one feeling who up, hmm?” 
His fingers pause at the garter you’re wearing around your thigh - a substitute for the old thigh holsters you used to wear. Nearly the same effect on Bucky, and you see his teeth gnawing on his lip.  
“We may not make it to the restaurant, babe,” he warns.  
“I’m not hungry anyway.” 
“Yeah, I saw you scarfing down those goldfish - ” 
Bursting into laughter, you pinch his hand. Bucky yelps, jerking his hand away from beneath your skirt and casting you a glare.  
“Hey,” he gripes. “If you’re gonna go around nicking the girls’ snacks all the time - ” 
“Oh, please; you do it too.” 
“Not right before dinner!” 
“I was hungry.” 
“You’re always hungry, babe.” 
“Well, how can I not be?” you say, lowering your voice to a croon. “With this delicious dish in the seat next to me?” 
Bucky rolls his eyes so hard that you’re almost surprised they don’t pop right out of his head. Laughing, you reach over to tuck some hair behind his ear. He’s trying to hide a smile. No luck.  
“Now you’re talking like a grandma,” he teases. “But golly gee, if the kids I grew up with heard a pretty dame like you saying the filthy things you whisper in my ear every night, and day, too - ” 
“They’d be jealous,” you interrupt.  
Bucky nods, a wise glint in his blue eyes. “Who wouldn’t be?” 
“And those things are private,” you point out. “I hope they wouldn’t know what I say to you in private.”
A pause. You quirk a brow - he sends you a wink, and you giggle.  
Town appears in the distance; glowing street lights and glaring headlights. Bucky’s hand settles back on your knee, not roving this time, and you squeeze his fingers. Even though there are fewer gun fights and knife fights and bomb disposals and saving the world than there used to be, things are nice.  
You wait in the car, worrying the hem of your dress in your fingers as Bucky waltzes around the car after parking. His grin makes you feel warm all over as he offers a hand, and you grin. “Good service,” you tease, and he narrows his eyes. Still not trusting your teasing. Smart man. 
It’s a quaint restaurant, in the downtown strip. Bucky’s hand stays at the curve of your spine as you’re shown to the reserved table. There are candles. That’s nice. They make his eyes gleam golden as he smiles across the table, his knee nudging yours beneath the tablecloth. 
“Get what you want, babe,” he smirks. “My treat.” 
“The date was my idea,” you remind him. “I pay.” 
“I’m tryna be a gentleman, babe.” 
“You felt me up on the drive here!” 
“Oh.” Bucky’s eyes twinkle, utterly unrepentant. “Right.” 
You hide a laugh beneath the tinkling piano music coursing through the restaurant, and nudge his knee back. “It’s pretty convenient of you to ignore the fact that we have a joint bank account.” 
“Details, details.” Bucky waves a hand with a snooty crinkle of his nose, and you can’t stop the laugh that comes then. “Sheesh, babe, you’re gonna get us kicked out,” he whispers in a severe tone. “You have to be a lady in an establishment like this.” 
You cross your eyes, and he snickers. Propping up his menu on the table, Bucky’s eyes stay fastened on yours above the rim. You let your gaze wander along his neck, his lips (which he wets, when he sees where you’re looking), and the cut of his jacket.  
“I know what I want for dinner,” you say resolutely, in a low voice.  
“What is it?” Bucky shoots back. “The crab? The chicken?” 
“The assassin.” 
His lips twitch, and he presses them together a snort escapes him. Preening, you clear your throat and reach for a glass of ice water. Bucky is shaking his head as you set the glass back down, smirking.  
“You’re absurd,” he says fondly.  
“And you adore me.” 
“I know.”
The waiter returns. An order is made. It’s hard to concentrate with Bucky’s leg pressing against yours, but you do your best - and when the waiter has gone you level your eyes on Bucky, and press your leg back. His lips curl upwards.  
“Do you remember Shanghai?” he asks, arching a brow, and you laugh. 
“That I will never forget.” 
“I’m surprised Tony didn’t sideline us after that one.” 
“We probably deserved it.” 
“Probably.” His eyes twinkle. “Then again, I didn’t ask you to have your hand down my pants while we were on recon.” 
“Didn’t complain, either.” 
“Touché.”  
Idly you run your index finger to the rim of your glass as Bucky arches a brow. He takes a long drink, without moving his eyes from your face, and you smile. He clears his throat.  
“How long do you think it’ll take our food to get here?” he asks.  
“Too long.”  
Polite society has its limits. You sigh, and lest the heat building between your legs as Bucky grins make the wait more difficult to bear - you let your eyes drift away, and admire the restaurant instead. 
Much less exciting. 
Bucky catches your hand on the top of the table, and absently strokes your knuckles with this thumb. No words are needed. His affection leaks through the simple touch, and your heart flutters.  
Suddenly you sit forward, eyes on the doors to the kitchens.  
“Bucky,” you say out of the corner of your mouth, and his eyes snap to you instantly. “How common is it for chefs to pack?” 
“Boxes, turkeys, or - ?” 
“Guns.” 
Bucky’s jaw clenches. “In this part of this town? Not really.” 
You observe through the swinging door a few more moments. Already the thrill of fight-or-flight is making your muscles twitch, and Bucky is sitting up in his seat, alert.  
“It’s been a while,” he says, with a little grin for you. “Up to it, babe?” 
“Huh! As if you have to ask.” 
“Just making sure.”  
A sly smile, and you push your chair from the table to stand. Bucky’s up, too - without a word spoken aloud, he makes for the hall which leads to the back of the restaurant. You take a position by the doors to the kitchen, pretending to admire a painting hanging on the wall. But your eyes flick elsewhere.  
Three of the busboys going in and out of the kitchens are packing, too. It’s pretty obvious - they must not be professionals. Besides those three and the cook, you don’t see any other weapons.  
Too easy. 
There’s a shout from inside the kitchen. Bucky must have entered - patrons in the restaurant start to turn their heads at the noise, but you flash them a winning smile as one of the busboys charges through the door from the kitchens into the restaurant. The door swings open - you catch it, and slam it back into his face. He crumples on the expensive carpet. Crouching down, you pull out the gun from his belt. A quick look shows that the serial number’s been scratched off in the metal. Suspicious. 
“Nothing to worry about,” you assure a waitress standing nearby with wide eyes. Carefully you step over the unconscious man, and into the kitchen.  
Two gunshots - a glass platter shatters, and there’s a familiar metal ping as the second glances off of Bucky’s arm, ripping his black jacket as he wrestles a gun from the cook.  
Holding your own pilfered gun at eye level, you stay behind an industrial size refrigerator and aim at the leg of another busboy. You take the shot - it recoils - and the bullet lodges into a nearby stove.  
You’re out of practice. Shoot. You take aim again as the busboy yelps and glances wildly around for help - but your second shot flies true, and no help comes. He collapses, howling.  
The last busboy has wrapped an arm around Bucky’s neck from behind and Bucky continues to grapple with the cook. You don’t trust your aim enough. Would have, a year or two ago. A closer look will be necessary.  
“Need some help, darling?” you ask sweetly as you approach the trio, and all eyes turn to you.  
“Yeah, that’d be great, babe,” Bucky chokes out.  
You take aim, and land a sharp kick against the cook’s knees - your heels are quite helpful in the pain department, and as he shakes off Bucky to deal with you, Bucky takes an arching flip backwards, landing the man on his back on the floor with a thud and a groan.  
The cook has a gun. You’d tossed yours on a table.  
But you’ve had worse odds, all in all.  
Smiling at the man’s panicked face, you grab his wrist before he can aim, jerking it down on your knee to the r - i - p - p - i - n - g sound of your skirt - oh well - and his gun clatters to the floor. After that, it’s only a few punches and jabs, and he’s lying face down, not moving.  
The kitchen is quiet. Glancing around, you see a few frightened faces peering out from behind the door to the walk-in freezer. Bucky is heaving himself to his feet, regarding your torn skirt with interest, and up to your face with consternation. 
“I had them on the ropes,” he deadpans.  
“Sure, Buck. What was their deal, anyway?” 
“Found some drugs and more weapons in a dumpster out back.” Bucky shrugs off torn and dirtied jacket, a little ruefully. “I was just gonna ask ‘em nicely to turn themselves in, but things got a little, er, out of hand.” 
“Things get out of hand with you a lot,” you tease. “Shall I call the police?” 
“Yeah. Then let’s scram.” 
Bucky’s suggestions is far simpler than the situation turned out to be - by the time both your statement and Bucky’s have been give to the police, it’s nearly ten o’clock, and restaurant service had been cancelled for the night. And you’re starving. 
Walking out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, you sigh and shiver in the chill air.  “Cheap dress,” you mumble, with a frown at the tear revealing your skin. “I did not dress tonight to bust a drug ring.” 
“If we’d known, we could’ve done it a lot more efficiently,” Bucky grins, opening the car door for you. “Like, eating first. I don’t like dealing with police on an empty stomach.” 
Luckily there’s a fast food drive through still open in town, and there’s plenty of time for gorging on greasy food in the parking lot. You’d told Steve and Sharon that you two would be back before midnight. Plenty of time.  
“We make a good team,” Bucky muses, crinkling up a wrapper. Then his expression falls. “Aw, shoot, I got ketchup on my shirt.” 
You pass him a napkin with a grin. “We’ve always made a good team,” you tease. “Even Stark thought so.” 
“Hard to impress Stark.” Bucky swipes the ketchup, but it only smears. You snicker.  
“Serves you right for wearing your nice white shirt to bust heads.” 
That earns you a glare - but you only laugh.  
“Take me home, Bucky,” you order imperiously. “It’s my bedtime.” 
He blinks, and a slow grin grows on his face. “Yes, ma’am.” 
As Bucky starts the car, your hand finds its way to his thigh, and squeezes. He shifts, sending you a narrowed look - but you smile innocently, and your fingers move upward.  
“Come on, babe,” he groans. “Keep that up, and this is gonna be over before it starts.” 
You don’t stop. He does not keep the speed limit.  
Once out of town, the road is flanked by thick woods. You unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot over, nuzzling your nose into the hot, spicy-smelling flesh of his neck. 
“Babe…” Bucky whines. “This isn’t safe.” 
“Oh, please. We’ve done worse.” 
“I know, but we almost crashed that one time, remember?” 
“Well, you’ve learned to drive better at...sensitive moments.” Your hand slides between the buttons of his shirt, feeling the fine hairs that grow on his chest as he groans again.  
“You’re gonna kill us,” he rasps. You hoist yourself on your knees, for better reaching.  
“Then why don’t you pull over?” you coo into his ear. 
Bucky doesn’t need telling twice. Immediately he starts to brake - not hard enough to jostle you around - and within seconds the car is parked on the side of the road, and he turns to catch your lips in a fierce kiss. Then his metal hand is snaking beneath your skirt, merciless and titllating as he yanks your underwear aside. A sharp intake of air, and you moan into Bucky’s mouth. 
“You’re gonna turn me into putty,” you murmur, pushing your hips forward as far as you can. The center console blocks you.  
“Good.” His voice vibrates against your throat as he nibbles your skin. “I want to. Payback, babe.” 
You laugh - a little throatily, a little maniacally. He snags the neckline of your dress between his teeth, and yanks down.  
Great. More tearing.  
But at this point, what use is there in caring? 
It’s all very awkward - it usually is, in cars - but within minutes you’re panting, Bucky is panting, and the windows have steamed over a little. You push him back into his seat, following him with your leg thrown over his hips as you reach to recline the driver’s seat the rest of the way. His belt is already undone, and you push that down, too.  
Bucky’s eyes are bright and hazy with lust as his hands rove across your body, his eyes fastened on your face. Obligingly you lean down to kiss him as you start to roll your hips against his, everything in its proper place. Bucky’s skin is flushed and hot and sweaty - and you’re pretty sure you don’t look any less disheveled.  
“What time did ya say we’d be back?” he grunts.  
“Um - midnight.” 
“‘Kay.” 
Plenty of time. 
It’s 11:34 when you and Bucky finally wander into your house - the lights are mostly off, and to your surprise, Sharon is standing near the living room, one of the babies cradled in her arms. She smiles in greeting, and you automatically shush Bucky behind you. 
Either Sharon doesn’t notice your torn dress and assortment of hickeys on both you and Bucky - or she doesn’t feel inclined to comment. Likely the latter.  
Luckily Sam isn’t there.  
You wander into the living room, shoes in hand - and see Steve lying out on the couch, snoring softly, with the other baby fast asleep on his chest. You clasp a hand to your mouth to keep from giggling, but Bucky beside you lets out a loud snort. 
 “Hey Rogers - if you think our couch is so comfy, why don’t you just move in?” he asks loudly, and Steve jerks awake. The baby slumbers on, and Bucky winds around the coffee table to pick up his daughter.  
“What the heck?” Steve rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I was awake just a second ago - ” 
“No, you weren’t,” Sharon corrects. “You’ve been out for two hours.” 
“Hey, it happens,” Bucky says kindly to Steve.  
“All the time,” you confirm with a smile. “I don’t think Bucky could hold one of the girls and not fall asleep for about six months.” 
“Hey,” Bucky glares at you as he makes for the girls’ bedroom, and you wink back. 
“Thanks again for watching them,” you say to Sharon, taking the baby from her arms. “Hope Steve got his fill of baby snuggles.” 
“Hey - ” Steve starts. 
“You’re welcome. Anytime. Really.” Sharon is grinning over at Steve as he pulls on his shoes.  
“What happened to you guys, anyway?” Steve asks, as Bucky returns.  
“This is ketchup, not blood,” Bucky explains, pointing to the stain.  
“Uh huh. Sure, Buck.” 
“Long story,” you interject. “You can watch the news tomorrow.” 
Five minutes later the house is quiet in its normal way, with retreating tail lights in the distance and all the lamps turned off. Except for one. Pulling on Bucky’s ruined collar, you retreat backwards into the bedroom, grinning all the while at the little smirk on his face, that soft, devious light in his eyes. 
“I should’ve known the car wasn’t enough for ya,” he teases softly, and nudges the door shut behind him. 
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fly-pow-bye · 4 years
Text
ThunderCats Roar - “Dr. Dometone”
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Co-Executive Producer: Victor Courtright
Supervising Producer: Nate Cash
Producer: Marly Halpern-Graser
Story by: Joan Ford
Teleplay by: Justin Becker
Directed by: Jessica Borutski
If you're looking for me, you better check under the earth...
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The episode begins with Tygra suggesting a new mission for the ThunderCats: go around the rest of Third Earth and try to fill in the gaps in their knowledge of it. They know about everything around the Cat's Lair, they know about that evil pyramid where Mumm-Ra lives, and they even know about the horrors of hook mountain, but what about everything else?
Tygra, being the sensible one, just wants to make friends with everyone around them, but Lion-O immediately gets out his sword and thunders it up. Tygra makes a desperate plea to Lion-O to use his words and not his magical swordplay if he manages to find anyone in his spot of land. This happens to be a beach, and unfortunately, or maybe fortunately even if Snarf was there to prevent any kind of wrongful swordplay, nobody on Third Earth wanted to do a suntan. There is far more than a slight implication that Tygra put him there because he doesn't really trust Lion-O to not accidentally start wars, though that might come from Tygra's unique ability of having common sense.
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Lion-O does manage to find a crab, though. The crab clearly can't talk, but that doesn't stop Lion-O from chasing it under the water, telling the crab that he just wants to ambassador it. No, there's no explanation to how Lion-O can speak and/or breathe underwater, but they do at least make him do a gurgling voice. It is basic cartoon logic: plot holes are okay as long as they're funny, and...eh, I don't know.
Speaking of holes, Lion-O lifts up a bunch of rocks that the crab was trying to, and one of them happens to be the Giant Oceanic Plug. One might think a giant plug at the bottom of the ocean was something made up for this wacky reboot, but no, that's actually something from the original ThunderCats. Unplugging it was something the ThunderCats had to prevent, as unplugging leads to...
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...a really, really dry planet. This is shown by showing what the other ThunderCats are doing, with the oceans receding into the hole that plug was covering in the background. They could have just ended with the shot of Third Earth without an ocean, but it's good to see the effects Lion-O's bumbling is causing in the world, even if nobody else seems to care. Well, one person seems to care, at least.
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The episode is called Dr. Dometone, so we get to see him come in with his giant amphibian robot, which he names Hercules. Just like in the original, he is the guardian of the Great Oceanic Plug, and he's none too thrilled to see the lack of water. Lion-O has no time to discuss this, because hey, a new guy to ambassador!
With no knowledge of what evil person could have done such a thing, he jumps into Hercules, and dives right into the plug. Somehow, this diving makes a fart sound, because we needed one of those. Lion-O, who snuck into the robot alongside Snarf much to the doctor's mismay, just ends up telling him he did it. Any kind of tongue lashing against him would have to wait, though.
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There's an upside down city of mushroom people known as the Moldians, all sobbing from having their underground city flooded. As the Lord of the ThunderCats, he tries his best to tell everyone that he will help them out with this sudden flooding without telling them he was the one who did it. I do like this line:
Moldian Mother: My baby is all wet!
Lion-O: I'll get you a new...uh, I'll dry your baby.
A rare moment where Lion-O has to realize what he said. They manage to find the mayor, Sportimer Fungustus, and he tips his hat-shaped head as much as he would allow at the fine gentlemen. Dometome tells Lion-O to stay quiet and let him do all the talking, as Lion-O has done enough harm. He does make the mistake of introducing them as being with him, and Lion-O had to say two words that really gets the Mayor upset: "what's up?"
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It turns out, the Moldians aren't exactly hip to that phrase, and assume he's asking what is up. The Mayor points down to the ground and says "the ground", and this leads to an argument. See, to the Moldians, up is down and down is up. They spend quite a bit of time explaining this to the audience, along with how they're in the hollow part of Third Earth. This could be our first confirmation this isn't a far out into the future version of the Earth we're on now, but I'm not sure about that.
Because the plot needs to go further, Lion-O butts in and says that nothing Dr. Dometome is saying is making any sense, because all of that water was drained into this city. With a zoomed out shot to possibly indicate how awkward that statement was, it's clear that the Mayor isn't too happy to be eye to eye with the people responsible for the great flood. Lion-O may not get that tongue lashing, but he will get something else.
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BUM BUM BUM BUM, Lion-O, Dr. Dometome, Snarf, and even Hercules are now tied up to a mushroom rocket with chains! The Moldians did at the very least know that superheroes would need a little bit more than ordinary rope. That rocket is headed straight for Third Earth's core, or, as the Moldians know it, the "great sky ball."
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Frowning at the fiery doom that he has accidentally put his new friend and his cool robot into, he can still hear the nagging words of Tygra, telling him that he should do the opposite of what he normally does. I'll say this, how he interprets this is way better than the way Lion-O did the opposite of what he says he's going to do from the previous episode. It also gives a point to that sword scene in the intro, which is nice to see.
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We do get our mandated action scene, and I'm not complaining about that at all, as the Moldians have declared war on their "underground" menace. Aw, and he was trying to prevent that from happening! It's here where Dr. Dometome's involvement in the plot besides all of that exposition reaches its apex, as we get to see him use that giant robot to avoid all of those mushroom missiles. Yeah, that's pretty much it.
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Technically doing the opposite of what he did, even if he's actually doing the same thing he did before, Lion-O goes "up" into the ocean. "Over" their waters, they have their own plug, conveniently labelled the "reverse plug". Who put that sign there? Who cares, the most important part is that it fixed everything, and none of the other ThunderCats suspected a thing. He must be so glad everything ended up being convenient.
As the honest Lord of the ThunderCats, he does end up telling him the truth about his adventures, but Tygra doesn't believe him. They do add a twist on this by making him not believe anyone else, either. Admittedly, playing ping pong with a mole man? Those are pretty outlandish compared to fighting giant mummy monsters.
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It all ends with a rather generic The End card, but I do appreciate the consistency with their appearance.
How does it stack up?
It's a pretty silly episode, but I do like the (literal) world building. 4 cats.
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Next, with such a title, an episode that's sure to be exciting!
← Mandora - The Evil Chaser 🐈 Study Time →
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