#Sometimes friendship is a bear man who won't leave your house.

[mxldito]

Dinner Diary #7

Trying a different method so this is a longer one!

On this fine night, I hunt with a companion. Mister Morgan took time from his busy schedule of brooding and looking at me like he wants to peel me like a boiled peach to join me on the streets tonight. He follows my eyes to an open window that seems just beyond my reach when I’m standing and before I can wind to leap up, he’s already hoisted me up by the knees. I slip in and I lean out the window to give him a big stupid smile and a thumbs up.

From this point on, I scritch and scratch through the belongings of my meal. Another old man, seemingly on his own. And Morgan goes to pick off some drunk from the alleyway below as he typically does. He stands like a stone and feels like one to climb on.

He snatches them off the ground like a hawk does a bunny rabbit, which is kind of impressive to watch. He’s killed one before. He’s more malicious than I am. I wouldn’t want to be crumpled into a husk by big bitch like him but he makes good company, believe it or not. Especially in these nights where people know where I fucking live. There was a time where he was less inclined to boost me into windows or onto posts so I can steal the signs off of them.

We happened upon each other by chance about two years ago now. By that point I’d been living alone for a while and my Sire had finally ceased his harassment, trying to get me to come back to him. It was just me and The Spirits those nights.

I remember waking up that night distinctly. And that something was going to happen that night and that I would have no say in it. It was going to happen. What? It. Whatever It means.

Cautiously, I went about the night to do what the dead to when there are no waking bodies. Stalking around until the early hours of the morning, stealing and eating and stealing. I was wearing a red tank top that night, it was cool out, it was a waning crescent, the air smelled like boiling meat, and I saw a small black dog sitting in somebody’s window. In the time where the nights all melded into one, I remember all of this.

Into the early morning hours, I’d wandered and waited for It to happen, whatever It was. Sometimes the Mockery just likes to jump your rope so I turned to head home.

And then the smell changed. It smelled wet. . .and creepy.

Close to sunrise by now, he was crouched down against an old wall. His presence wasn’t subtle. The guy was physically fucking huge and even curled up like that, you could see. Unmistakably Kindred as he was visibly tense. Reminiscent of a cornered animal. Gangrel.

Noticing and watching with one black eye, one silver, and a firm brow as though I was a fly flying, fucking, and shitting in his kitchen. The way skittish street dogs eyeball passersby, with the assumption of ill-intent.

I crouched down to his level, “You look spooked, friend. Lost?” To which he stared on and on, surveying my physical being which he later admitted to noting my seediness-weediness in case he needed to rip me in half like a phone book.

He looked away off to where the sky was becoming milky with light and I joined his eye, “The sun will swallow us here. Up to die with a stranger? I’m up to die full stop.” I told him. “Lost?” Trying to pry again.

Moody huff, he nodded and I snorted which he didn’t appreciate.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

He nodded.

“Only for the day, okay?”

He nodded.

OH, HOW SURE OF HIMSELF HE IS. Surely he could twisted me into a pretzel and thrown me in a river. Between the sunrise and me, he chose me. We’re all cagey motherfuckers so you know that’s how dire it must’ve been for him. Then again, I let him into my house. What does that say about me?

If he tried to kill me, I’d at least bitten the eyes out of his skull is all I’m saying. I say that affectionately. Mostly. . .

Walking behind me the entire time so he wouldn’t risk turning his back on me, I walked fast and glanced back at him as if he were following me with a meat hook. I led him through the dried cadaver of the neighborhood I live in and into the old house.

For the next few months, I would attempt to evict this big lumbering Irishman. There’s only so much you can do when a 6’7” tower of muscle and anger sits his enormous ass on your living room floor without the intention of moving. You try to push the fucker down and he just. . .doesn’t go down. Leaving every conversation with with “Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo!” and your ego a little bruised.

I don’t know. We just got used to each other over time and suddenly I’m telling him about being a kid and he’s telling me about being a kid and you realize how fucking awful everything is. But at least you get each other.

He doesn’t care about the things I say, do, or feel sick over but he’s there and listens. And now we keep each other company on the hunt and go about this existence with each other, never a sincere judgemental glace. I’m not sure what he gets out of it other than a place to stay but I think it’s more than that now. He’s my best friend. I think I’m his best friend.

I never got his name for the first few months and I was scared to ask. He still makes fun of me for it. At least I can read but whatever, man.

And with full bellies, we make our way back down the road: “—baker had gravy on his vest, gravy on his tie, gravy on his pants, gravy all over him! So he went to his grave, with gravy on his vest, gravy on his tie, gravy on his pants, gravy all over him. That dirty old man!”

I can spell him out before he does it: brow furrowed, eyes squinted, hands in his pockets. He realizes, then grimaces, lip coiling back, “Eugh.” and his hand collides with my back and throws me forwards as I cackle. The same every time. He’s consistent. He is a stone.

-- Good morning, Morgan!

#⮚ The Menendez Dinner Diary #⮚ Journal Entry #⮚ Not Just Any Weirdo (Morgan) #Sometimes friendship is a bear man who won't leave your house.

[roobylavender]

do you have any specific non-comic quotes that remind you of bruce?

any asshole can open up a museum / put all of the things he loves on display / so everyone can see them (it's a hit, rilo kiley)

but grieving people are selfish. they won’t let you comfort them and they say you don’t understand and they make you feel useless when all your life you’ve been functional to them. (the piper’s son, melina marchetta)

i should live in salt for leaving you behind (i should live in salt, the national)

oh joy i'm afraid of the light / as the jewel of my mind begins to fall apart / do not destroy what has taken its time / as the lord would abide in murder and crime (murder and crime, sufjan stevens)

grief paralyzes. motion continues; time departs. something’s left with no means to retrieve it. a candle out in the down-clap of darkness. then to wade and wade—in grief: i, detached from place and time. (dream of the divided field, yanyi)

one peculiar way to die of loneliness is to try. pretend november has a sliver of ice in her throat. (trances of the blast, mary ruefle)

shame creates imaginary worlds inside your head. this haunted house you’re creating is forged from your shame. no one else can see it, so you keep trying to describe it to them. you find ways to say, “you don’t want any part of this mess. i’m mediocre, aging rapidly, and poor. do yourself a favor and leave me behind.” you want to be left behind, though. that way no one bears witness to what you've become (i'm broke and mostly friendless, and i've wasted my whole life, heather havrilesky)

i've spent most of my life and most of my friendships holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won't leave, and fearing that it's a matter of time before they figure me out and go. (shauna niequist)

cause if i can learn to love your shadow / when your shadow hits the light / and there ain't no trace of what we've been through / then i'll shout it 'til the day i die / but i'm still in sight / your fast machine / always holding your love supreme (45, bleachers)

a loss of innocence is the impetus for a journey to find inner truth. in the film, dorothy returns to the world of oz to find its landscape in ruins and its citizens turned to stone. only she can find the ruby slippers and return peace to oz. only we can save ourselves, but first we have to remember who we are. (sufjan stevens)

shall we look at the moon, my little loon / why do you cry? / make the most of your life, while it is rife / while it is light (fourth of july, sufjan stevens)

the bleeding heart, on the other hand is fundamentally incapable of being anything other than themself. they love the way an open wound does. it’s hemorrhagic and contagious. faithful to a fault. they will jump without hesitation, though they’ll hit the ground consumed with guilt. (hauntdom)

i’ve listened to people in the media say that nothing beats the love between a mother and the child she births. i’d have to challenge that. nothing beats it, but something equals it. because i feel a deep love at my heart’s core for this child. i truly believe we were meant to be. (the gift of love, melina marchetta)

hector believes in—he believes in institutions, he believes in—in country, he believes in family, he believes in the army. isn’t it funny how hard it is to describe a good man? he’s a brave man, but deep down, he’d rather be taming horses. (an iliad, lisa peterson) 

responsibility is what is incumbent on me exclusively, and what, humanly, i cannot refuse. i am i in the sole measure that i am responsible, a non-inter-changeable i. i can substitute myself for everyone, but no one can substitute himself for me. such is my inalienable identity of subject. (ethics and infinity, emmanuel levinas) 

the violence that superheroes commit against themselves, for the good of the community—sometimes pushed by a community that worships them, fears and loathes them at the same time—is akin to the violence of every self-sacrifice, even if it is not performed by a masked champion or by the son of god. (christ, batman, and girard, lorenzo magnani and tommaso bertolotti) 

we keep fixing what we know is only bound to break / what's worth saving is never worth letting go to waste / i want to mend what i've got, instead of throwing away (theseus, the oh hellos) 

froi saw the foolishness of dreamers, and he decided he'd like to die so foolish. with a dream in his heart about the possibilities, rather than a chain of hopelessness. (the lumatere chronicles, melina marchetta) 

#i kept thinking: is this enough? but this is definitely enough. even if i could find more #outbox #bruce wayne #dc

[rainpuddle13]

Ex Libris - Part (your guess is as good as mine)

“I’m so glad you could come, Ross,” Mrs Zacky, the happy bride's mother said with a smile as she enveloped him in a bear hug.

“Wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world.” He relished the love bestowed upon him by the woman he often considered his second mother. Mrs Zacky had been his mother’s closest friend and had really taken him under her wing after his mother and brother died.

She cupped his face with her warm hands as she gave him a good looking over. “You’re looking well, much better than when I saw you last.”

“Things are better.” He could hide nothing from her, never could. She was all seeing, always was. "Things with Papa too," he offered.

“I can see that.” She brushed a kiss to his forehead when he leaned down for her and then let him go. “I think it has to do with a certain pretty young woman on your arm earlier.”

“Demelza’s just a friend,” he said swiftly, wanting to cut off that line of questioning before it could even get started. His plus 1 was currently on the dance floor singing and dancing and generally having the time of her life with several of the eligible men of the area. He envied that of her sometimes, the ability to live life to its fullest despite everything.

Mrs Zacky just smiled at him and he found himself feeling eerily like his naughty eight year old self once more. “Those who are quick to deny are usually hiding something.”

He was not going to take the bait. He was not. So he just took another sip of the ale in his hand and remained silent. It was best to let it be. His feelings for Demelza were complicated and he had no idea what was between them beyond friendship. Thanks to Caroline's meddling the mess with Hugh Armitage made the situation worse. Things were just fine between them, but Ross could not deny that Demelza had been introduced to someone who could offer her so much more.

“Anyone can plain see the she’s in love with you, Ross. Don’t let her slip through your fingers,” Mrs Zacky continued on undaunted by any of his grumblings. “She won’t stay available for long. Someone will come along and snatch her right up.”

“Mrs Zacky’s right, you know,” Caroline chimed in as she came to stand next to them, smiling when Dwight went over to join Demelza’s bevy of suitors. “Hugh is quite taken with her and he won't stay in Australia forever."

“I’d thank you not to mention his name in my presence,” Ross groused, having had about enough of the two clucking hens. Demelza in love with him? Hardly.

Mrs Zacky chuckled. “Who is this Hugh fellow that has Ross all in a bother, Caroline?”

“Sir Hugh Armitage."

"Oh my," the older woman sighed appreciatively. "He is a handsome one isn't he?"

Caroline smiled sweetly. "Quite so! I introduced them at a house party back in December."

He took his leave of the two women extolling all the wonderful virtues of Sir Hugh before he could lose his dinner. He needed another drink badly. Demelza was dancing with Mark Daniel, a roughneck from Grambler. She was safe enough with him. Ross had known Mark his entire life. He was a good man, big and tall, if not a bit loutish. The bloke didn’t stand a chance with her. Not at all her type. She liked a thinking man.

“Ross!” Demelza broke away from her partner to dance and skip her way toward him, a grin on her face when she took his hand to pull him toward the dance floor. “Ross! You must dance with me!”

“Demelza,” he warned, fearing he’d have to remind her of his inability to dance.

“It’s a slow song next I promise,” she wheedled.

He still wasn’t convinced. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Dunno.” She tugged on his hand again. “Please, Ross. You promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he protested even as his feet moved of their own volition, following her to the edge of the dance floor.

Her arms slipped around his neck as she leaned into him when the music started, a slower song just as she had promised. She laid her head on his chest. He could’ve sworn he could feel her smirk when his arms went around her and they swayed slowly together. “See how nice this is?” she murmured.

“Very,” was all Ross could say.

#pud fic #pud's six sentence sunday #pud's ex libris #romelza modern au #poldark fanfic #poldark modern au #ross/demelza

[endlich-allein]

Once again, @iinchicore was very kindly to translate an article for me. This is the interview with Till and Joey in MetalHammer (January 2021). The boys tell about their journey in the Amazon and their future projects together.

A big thank you, lots of kisses and a big hug to @iinchicore ♡

Till Lindemann & Joey Kelly : Friendship Without Limits

MetalHammer: How did the preparations for this journey differ in comparison to your Yukon trip?

Joey Kelly: We took along different equipment. While riding on the Yukon we used sturdy Canadian kayaks, which we couldn't find in Colombia. So we took along our own foldable 15 kilogramme kayak. Due to the climate, our choice of clothing was also different. Besides, the Amazon is much more dangerous than Alaska. There are many dangerous animals, small and big ones. You can find snakes, crocodiles and piranhas, which is why you shouldn't bathe in the river. You have to move differently on the Amazon than on the Yukon, where you only have to keep your distance to bears and elks. Amazonia is a jungle, where only those animals survive who eat the others.

Your first river journey led you to the Yukon, now you travelled on the Amazon. Was there a reason for why you picked that river exactly?

Till Lindemann: We were considering to travel along the Chinese Yangtze or the Lena in Russia, Siberia. Siberia was my favourite, but Joey convinced me to go to the Amazon. We have both been there before and knew a little about how to prepare and what to expect. One thing we knew right away was that, in regard to the nature and people, South America was much more exciting – Siberia looks similar to Alaska. That wouldn't have been all that interesting for our second book. Now the contrast is much greater: Alaska is austere and glum, the Amazon is the exact opposite with an entirely different wildlife and vegetation. Don't forget the wonderful colours of South America!

Any fascinating experiences of nature?

TL: It is really rare to spot an animal in the jungle. You can hear them everywhere, but they hide or are disguised very well. With the help of the local guides we observed snakes, birds, monkeys and a tapir. We saw pink dolphins and watched them do their jumps on the river. Because of their skin-like colour the locals believe they're incarnations of their dead loved ones and worship them.

How did the locals at the river react towards you?

TL: Reluctant, at first. You go to them and, for example, ask whether you can stay the night. They don't really talk much in the beginning, but after a night with a lot of Cachaca they warm up to you. Usually they were interested in our fishing gear. Most of them had never seen something like it, as they were used to fishing with rolled up strings and nets. I was amazed that every village we visited, no matter how remote the location, owned fridges with cold beer, they even had solar energy. Huge satellite dishes to watch football. For three days we visited one particular village. There was a storm, so they allowed us to stay. There was an older guy who had fallen off his stilt house, drunk, and broke his foot. Two young men went to the neighbouring village, a day's journey away, to get the shaman. The man should have belonged to a hospital, but that was entirely out of the question for him. It either heals on its own or it doesn't. We bandaged his foot and supplied him with pain meds. Then we continued drinking.

Did you plan beforehand what you wanted to see during your journey?

TL: Yes, a coca plantation. We knew that they existed there everywhere. At first, it was a lot of back and forth. They were staving us off, but after a lot of endless waiting and our patient agreeing to it, they allowed us to go. Along with two attendants from the village, we paddled down a branch of the Amazon that became narrower over time. A labyrinth of branches we would have never found our way out of. Eventually, we ended up at one of the countless plantations. It wasn't harvest time, however, so the leaves weren't ripe yet. But you could see all the tools for it: mashers, bags, and hundreds of bowls. And a little storage.

Did you try the coca leaves?

TL: Yes. We were on the plantation. They hid the plants below banana trees, so you couldn't see the plantation from the air. I did try a few coca leaves, but there is no sorcery about it. You just stay awake and feel energized. Everybody is chewing on them there, it's like coffee, just ten times stronger.

Did you reach your physical limits during this journey?

TL: The body adjusts to the climate pretty quickly. After three weeks you don't sweat all that much anymore. Even the sun doesn't bother you as much anymore, because you're thoroughly cooked anyway. But the humidity requires getting used to. The people there are handling it very differently. They own to pairs of shorts, two t-shirts and beach slippers, and they walk around like that all day.

JK: The climate there is exhausting, you're sweat-soaked after only three minutes. Personally, I don't mind it, but to people who aren't used to it it's a pain. The route we went on was quite difficult in parts, it was very serpentine. You had to paddle the whole time, you had to steer, then there were shoals or the water became too flat, so we had to relocate the boat.

You didn't capsize though, like it happened to you on the Yukon?

JK: No, the water level during that season was way too low. Later on, when the water comes in from the Andes during the monsoon season, the level rises by 15 metres. It drowns out entire forests.

TL: I was there once during the monsoon season. Back then only the tree tops were peeking out of the water. That's why they build their houses on stilts, so the water doesn't reach them. Many villages are located on mountain tops, as the water level won't rise that high.

Considering the many preparations and daily challenges, did you ever find time to relax during such an extensive journey?

TL: Travelling on the Yukon wasn't stressful, because we were sleeping on the sandbanks. Those experiences made travelling the Amazon even easier. As the sun goes down very early there, our only concern was to make camp before 6PM. Whenever we found a good location we sometimes made camp even earlier than that, instead of travelling on and risking not finding a good spot. That only happened to us once, so we had to sleep in the jungle, which wasn't all that bad either.

With a camp fire and night watch?

TL: A camp fire, yes, but we didn't need a night watch. You have to trust your guide, those guys know what they're doing. Our guide went ahead a couple of metres with a bit of string and, within a few minutes, came back with six piranhas. Then we turned on the grill and ate. Piranhas are really tasty, like giltheads.

Did you gain more respect for nature due to this journey?

TL: I had a great respect for nature before that already. Still, I couldn't hold myself back from taking pictures with snakes. I love snakes, Joey thinks they're scary. (laughs)

What did you learn along the way?

JK: I asked the Indians to teach me how to fish with a cast-net and pulled animals out of the water, which an aquarist would usually pay thousands of euros for. Scalars, discus fish, loricariids, sisorid catfish, catfish in all shapes and sizes.

Here in Europe we read a lot about the fact that these romantic times might be of the past soon, due to the systematic ecocide. Is that what you saw over there?

TL: When you approach Leticia you can make out the slash-and-burn methods used below. We assume that every minute jungle area the size of 1.5 football fields gets cleared, for soy plantations or pasture areas. The search for gold is also devastating for the nature. They use mercury to wash the gold out of rocks and clay. The mercury ends up in the rivers, in the fish, and then inside the people.

JK: The Amazon traverses through the entire continent. It is so broad and deep, there are even bigger ships cruising the river than on our rivers here in Europe. They carry natural resources, mainly wood. You can find a sawmill every couple of kilometres. They carry the tree trunks there and cut them along the length (4m by 1,20m or even 4m). Those planks then get transported either by ship or overland, a systematic deforestation of the Amazon area.

TL: You find a lot of filth in the main stream: huge tree trunks, garbage, bags full of plastic, and a lot of wood waste. It's illegal, but everybody does it. Very obviously, even during the day, nobody cares.

Are the locals not aware of the drastic situation?

JK: The sawmills pay the farmers 250 to 300 euros for one tree trunk. The sawmills sell it for 2.500 euros, and then here in Europe it costs up to 30.000 euros.

TL: As soon as they saw us, the lumbermen turned off their chainsaws and fled into the forest, yelling: “Piss off!” They were afraid that those pictures would be seen by the world. Same thing for the fisheries. Usually, the fish leave the lagoons during the dry season and swim back into the main stream, because the lakes dry out. The law allows it that they cast a net over half of the lake, so that a part of the fish can swim past. Now, the fishermen close off the entire lake, with up to ten nets. No fish can get past that anymore, only the very small ones. They're overexploiting the area high and low. They even steal all the turtle eggs from the clutches. It didn't used to be that way, back then they would leave half of it where it was.

Do you think that could change, if other types of income would replace the exploitation, like tourism?

JK: I don't think that the parts Till and I went to would be suitable for commercial tourism. Let's be honest, the biggest income is ensured by the coca production. You would travel right into a drug area. We could only move around freely there, because the government was taking care of the cartel conflicts at the time. Apparently, the military is now in charge of the coca trade.

TL: Corruption is the order of business. A policeman is earning less than a coca farmer. Thus, bribery and blackmail are commonplace. Almost all of it is illegal: fishing with the many nets, the gold-seeking, the wood clearing and the coca plantation. The areas are huge and hardly controllable. Since president Bolsonaro is in power in Brazil, the clearing business went up by 30 percent. Bolsonaro announced officially that the Amazon is a product, and that's how the people treat it. They expel the indigenous people and allocate them to surrogate areas, their land goes to the gold-seekers and their prospecting rights. The surrogate areas aren't of any use, however, so they don't live in villages anymore, but in small cities. That'll turn out to be very problematic in the future.

Was it a bizarre experience to you to live with indigenous people, even though it is said that there is no room for the white man?

JK: I've seen tourism in parts of the world where I'd have never expected it. An example would be the South Pole. Once I reached by goal there a plane landed, six tourists came out and paid several thousand dollars for a four to six hour long stay. I thought there was a lot less tourism at the Amazon than anywhere else. The only tourists who travel there are either extremely rich Americans or Russians who come in by helicopter, no matter how expensive the journey. As long as they were there once in their life, took a picture with an Indian and a monkey, then they fly back to Bogotá. All in all, you only meet natives here.

TL: You have to differentiate. There are also motor boats and Americans with sun hats on, sleeping in their loggias. But not in the area we were in. There were children there, who pulled at our pants and ran to our kayaks, because they had never seen anything like it. A canoe made of plastic! They only know boats made out of wood. The kids played with our fishing poles, the angling reels, and were amazed by our lures and wobblers. They had never seen something like that before. They only knew of the hooks, where you put a little meat on. There was a lot of curiosity.

Did the journey affect your friendship at all?

TL: Our friendship didn't get any better or worse, it's been a good friendship before. We want our travels to be periodic. Joey and I want to grant us this sort of time off every two, three years. We realized we're getting better at it. We drove down rapids. While travelling on the Yukon we would have peed our pants, but now we're capable of really daring manoeuvres among waves that are 1.5 metres high. You get well attuned over time, become more experienced with the daily routine, the luggage, moving around.

JK: That was one of the reasons why we planned out the next trip right after our Amazon journey. We paddled down the Rhine in August 2020. We decided to do this during the Corona pandemic, because like that we didn't have to travel through so many countries and still got to tell the entire river's history, which led us through Switzerland, Germany, Liechtenstein, Austria, France and the Netherlands.

Do these travels to the Yukon and Amazon satisfy your wish for solitude?

TL: Like we said, we already travelled along the Rhine. The Nile will be next. The Mekong river is also on our list, but with the goal to start at its origin. These journeys are really important to us. We might have published up to six books some time. We still have a couple of goals ahead of us: The Nile, maybe the Mississippi, one Russian river and the Mekong. Like that we would have visited a river in almost each part of the world.

Which seems to be a difficult goal to achieve, considering the current Corona pandemic...

JK: Sadly so. Because even if Germany will be cleared of the virus, that might not be the case for Tanzania, where the Nile originates, or in Egypt, where it ends. There are five countries in between, after all.

Symbolically, what did you take home from this journey?

TL: Humbleness! And gratefulness for what we have. At the same time, however, a sort of incomprehension for how we live here in Europe. With so much waste, lunacy and luxury. The people we met didn't really have anything. Property and wealth don't mean anything. The huts, the boats, tools, even the TV, it all belongs to everyone. You eat and drink together, and most of the work is done as a community. They say people are happier there. I won't be the judge as to whether that's true, but life there is simpler, more manageable, and thus people there live more modestly. In Germany people get up in the morning, rush to the office, are stuck in traffic, sit at the computer all day or manage machines, rush back home in the evening. In comparison, it's very relaxed at the Amazon. The people go to bed early, when they wake up they go fishing, hunt or raise manioc and corn. Life there is structured in a very simple way, it's been reduced to only the bare necessities.

What is the first image you see when you think of Amazonia?

JK: Looking back, I'm always thinking of this one boat ride very early in the morning. It was still foggy when we started paddling. To the left of us I can still barely see riverside, apart from that only fog, I can only see for two, three metres. We are on the Amazon without knowing what's ahead of us. It's quiet, there is no wind, the water is calm... That was a great experience.

#thank you @iinchicore ❤️ #till and joey in amazonia #till is love 🖤 #till lindemann #till 2021 #t.lindemann 2021 #t.lindemann #joey kelly #metalhammer

[bangtanreadingcorner]

all this time • kim seokjin

plot – you and your best friend, seokjin, drifted apart after he became a famous actor. years later, you find your way back to each other.

words – 3.5K

When your best friend Kim Seokjin got the lead role in a movie when you two were eighteen years old, you were ecstatic for him. What you were less ecstatic about was the fact that you grew apart to the point where you didn't even greet each other if you happened to cross one other in the street. Something that didn't happen very often because he moved to the city, but it still happened, each time he visited his parents in your hometown.

You, on the other hand, could never leave your home. Not forever, at least. It's not that bad, despite what some of the teenagers might say, it's a really big town. Big enough that not everyone knows everyone, and nobody poked their noses where it didn't belong. There is a lot to do, too, if you're a local and you know where to look. You love this place and you'll never completely leave it. You left years ago, to study and become a doctor, but then you came back. Now you live in an apartment and your work at the local hospital. It's not glamourous and glittery but it's home and it's what you've always wanted. It makes you happy and content, to help people and to heal physical injuries, get parents and children alike back on their feet, curing someone who's sick.

Sometimes there is a hollow place in your chest that aches, somedays more than others, but mostly you ignore it. You know what's missing from your life, you know what belongs there. You also know you're never getting it back, so you push past it and deal with it.

But beyond that, life was good.

A scream startles you out of your reverie and you come back to earth, looking around the small coffee shop you were in from where to were seated by the window, nearly rolling your eyes when you saw what it was.

It was Kim Seokjin, famous actor who had most woman's heart skipping a beat, who had just walked into the coffee shop, who used to be your best friend. It was two girls who spotted him and was now giggling while pointing - at least discreetly - at him with wide smiles on their faces.

You wonder with vague amusement what they would say if they knew that when you were thirteen, he stuck an olive up his nose because you bet him that his nose was to small and he wouldn't be able to do it.

Your eyes suddenly met Seokjin's, and you looked away immediately, missing the way his face fell into a cherstfallen look. But Seokjin, ever the professional, quickly wiped his features into a charming smirk, even if he felt like he was breaking inside. He wondered, not for the first time, if stardom was worth the price of losing you.

You ignored his presence as best you could, finishing your hot chocolate and the rest of your breakfast. After paying for your meal and getting ready to leave, you couldn't help but take another look at him, because he was your best friend Jin for long before he was Kim Seokjin the Actor and despite what you try to convince yourself of, you still miss him.

You looked to where he was seated and found him already staring. Instead of immediately looking away, you let your gaze linger, long enough that he gave you a hesitant smile and a little wave. You finally adverted your eyes, turned around and walked out of the cafe.

***

"I heard Seokjin-ah is back in town." Your mother said conversationally when you went to visit your parents that evening for dinner.

"Yeah, I saw him this morning in Misses Jung's Diner." You answered, making sure to keep your tone disinterested, not wanting her to get into this topic.

Your mother brightened, as she bustled around the kitchen. Your father was in the living room, watching television. "Oh, and how is he doing? The star life treating him well?"

"How would I know? I didn't talk to him." You shrugged with a light frown. "I told you, we're not friends anymore."

"And who's decision was that?" Your mother asked, rounding on you with narrowed eyes.

"No one, it was just life. We drifted apart, that's it." You answered honestly. You really did drift apart, but it could have been prevented, if Seokjin put in more effort. You did everything you could to keep your friendship, but eventually he stopped returning your calls and texts, and it wasn't until he finally didn't even send you a text on your twenty first birthday that you gave up completely. When you got a new phone from your parents, you didn't save his number again.

"Maybe now that he's back, you two can patch things up again." You mother suggested with an excited smile. "You know, you aren't getting any younger and I want grandbabies."

"Mom!" You gasped in a little exasperation, but not surprised at all. This has been going on since you turned 25. You suppose you're lucky that she's not like Mrs. Kwon next door who tries to set her daughter up with any willing man, that she just teases you with Seokjin every now and again. Probably because she knows you're in love with him, even after all these years. "I'm 28, not 48. Also, Jin and I were just friends. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You can never tell me enough times that I'll be convinced." She said with a pointed look in her eyes as she grinned at you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, regretting the night you showed up at home and cried your eyes out because you realised that you are in love with Seokjin and he's gone and you never got to tell him. You almost went to Seoul that weekend to tell him.

"Just because I have feelings for him, doesn't mean he has feelings for me." You reminded her.

"Hah!" She scoffed, muttering under her breath about 'stupid children' and 'won't know unless it hits them in the face'. You shook your head with a fond smile as you watched her until the door bell rang.

You frowned lightly, "Are you expecting someone?"

"Yes." You mother nodded, brightening up significantly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Oh, that must be Minji and Seokjin."

"You invited Jin and his mom to dinner?" You hissed at you mother, only glaring slightly. You assumed Seokjin's dad wasn't coming because he isn't home, probably on rotation - a military man through and through is how you'd discribe Mr. Kim, if ever asked.

You got a whack with the dishtowel behind the head, "Y/N, behave."

Dinner was a boisterous affair, but not from your part. You didn't know if it was thanks to your mother - but you'd bet a month's salary that it was - that you and Seokjin end up sitting next to each other, but you did. He looked at you, a lot. You could feel it, his gaze like a brand on your skin.

"Seokjin-ah, your mom tells me you'll be in town for a while." Your mom said with a bright smile and you breathed a little easier when he moved his eyes away from you. Your heart was still unsteady.

"Yes, Ma'am, I'll be staying for a month before my next film's production starts." He answered politely, voice deep and soothing and everything that you want. You clenched your fists in your lap, swallowing thickly as you reminded yourself that you couldn't have it.

"That's wonderful." Your mother said.

After finishing your dinner, you had to get out of there. "Excuse me, I'm feeling like swinging."

"Me too." Seokjin said with a cheery smile, rising from his chair as well.

"You're not invited." You snapped and felt guilty when he flinched.

"Y/N, this is not how I raised you." Your mother said with a slight glower on her face. You look to your dad for help, but he just smiles at you before stuffing his mouth with more food.

You sighed in resignation, "Fine, he can join me if he really wants."

You walked to the backdoor without looking to see if Seokjin was following you. You wanted to leave so you could get away from him, clear your head and get your bearings right.

The swing you talked about wasn't an actual swing - although you do like going to the swings in the park a few blocks from your house - but a swinging bench that your dad hung for you from the tree behind the house years ago. The swinging bench held countless memories of you and Jin, playing and having fun. You sat down and wait for him to sit down too before kicking with your feet against the ground and swinging.

It was dark and quiet outside, just the sounds of the night animals waking up. It was soothing in a way that little else was. The comforting and safe presence next to you hasn't been there for a decade, and you soaked it up, knowing it wouldn't last past tonight.

"How have you been?" Seokjin eventually asked, breaking the silence that settled over you two.

"Do we have to talk?" You asked and it's not meant to come out that sour or mean, but there's a lot of resentment in you towards him for just letting fifteen years of friendship go down the drain for fame. The friendship between you was something you cherished most in this world and before you were in love with him, you just loved him. Losing a loved one always hurt. And it did. It hurt like hell when you lost him and your friendship.

He flinched from your words, again, and you felt guilty again. He looked at you but you didn't look at him as he spoke. "I'm sorry, that I ever hurt you by leaving."

"It's fine, it's been ten years. I'm over it." You waved him off, when really it isn't fine and you aren't over it.

"Still, I never wanted to hurt you." Seokjin said, sincere and open.

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning back on the bench. He had the right idea, by apologizing, but he was apologizing for the wrong thing. "You leaving didn't hurt me, Jin. Cutting me out of your life did."

***

A few days later on your day off, you were riding your motorcycle, on your way to the mall - the bookstore had finally let you know that the medical journal you ordered had arrived - when you heard it. Voices screaming 'Seokjin- or Jin-oppa'. Your head automatically swivel in that direction and you didn't know whether to laugh at the sight or feel sorry for Seokjin, who was being chased by five girls. You wanted to just drive away.

But then you caught sight of the slightly terrified look on his face and your heart twisted violently. You swore, and revved your bike before turning around and making a U-turn, riding to where Seokjin was. Both him and the girl's stopped in their tracks when they noticed you were driving straight at them. They all froze, not moving or running like most people would have.

You braked and slowed down until you were infront of Seokjin, idling as you flipped open the visor and called, "Hey, Kim Seokjin! Get on!"

He didn't hesitate, climbing on and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly before you took off. You drove him to his house, not making any detours because you wanted to get away from Seokjin before he could realise the fast pace of your heart was not because of adrenaline but because of his close proximity.

"Can we talk?" He asked after he got off, placing a hand on your forearm to prevent you from taking off.

You took a deep breath, then turned off your bike and took off your helmet, looking at him expectantly while flattening your hair. "Talk about what?"

"Anything, I don't care." He answered, tone bordering on pleading. "I just want to talk to you."

"You were the one that shut me out." You said, voice just this side of cold as you rested your feet on the tar road.

"Because I wanted to make something of myself and I couldn't do that if all I thought about was packing up and coming home to you." Seokjin defended himself, hoping that you'd see reason.

Instead, you scoffed at him. "Well, you did. So, congratulations. I hope you're happy and I hope it was worth it."

"I missed you." Seokjin said out of the blue. Your body tensed and you wanted to look at him, but you didn't. Too afraid that if you did you'd cave and forgive him. "Everyday, for the past ten years, I've missed you. I never stopped, not once."

The words was like a healing salve to your sore and bruised heart that never quite healed right. You swallowed thickly. "What do you want me to say, Jin?"

It was quiet for a while, before he finally asked. "Do you really hate me that much?"

You laughed a little, as if. How much easier would your life be if you could have just hated him after he stopped talking to you. If you did, maybe you could have moved on, had those grandchildren your mother is always nagging about. You shook your head, "No, I don't hate you, I never have. I never could."

"Can we try to be friends again?" He asked, bright and hopeful and you hated to be the one to destroy that, but you didn't have another choice.

"Just so we can drift apart again?" You challenged, scoffing a little. "No, thanks, I already lost you once, I'd rather not do it all over again."

"It's different this time." Seokjin insisted earnestly.

You opened your mouth, to give a harsh remark, but when you saw the honesty and seriousness in his eyes, you asked instead, "How?"

Seokjin smiled at you and you ignored the way it made you feel like you could melt into a puddle of goo. "Well, for one, we're both grown up this time around. And two, I've decided that maybe it's time to start putting roots down."

"Haven't you done that in the city?" You questioned with a frown.

"Not really, no." Seokjin shook his head. "There's just no place like home, you know?" He asked, giving you a look

You looked at him and smiled slightly, "Yeah, I know."

"Can I show you something? Tomorrow?" Seokjin asked, and seeing your hesitation, he added on a gentle, "Please."

"Okay." You agreed, watching as he gave you a brilliant smile. Your heart singed and your stomach flip-flopped.

"You can come by tomorrow at 11." He said and you nodded in agreement.

"See you tomorrow."

You started your bike and drove away, anticipation and excitement for the next day knotting your stomach.

***

"Why did you bring me here?" You asked the next day, heart full of bursting emotions as you looked at the house. It wasn't just any house, it was your dream house. The house you fell in love with when you were fifteen years old, it wasn't a mansion, but it wasn't a small house either, at three stories high. It was an old, fixer upper, but you've always loved it. It was a little secluded, being just out of town and in the woods, and it was where you planned to stay one day.

Seokjin knew all of this. You two sneaked here many times and he listened to you rant about the house and how perfect it is even more times. So, why bring you here now?

"Remember what I said about putting roots down?" He asked and you hummed in confirmation, nodding slightly, a bit confused. "I bought it."

Your eyes widened and you gaped at him, completely thrown off by his words. "You- what? Why?"

Suddenly, his demeanor turned nervous, hands trembling slightly and voice shaky when he spoke, "I was hoping that, maybe, it could be a home. For us."

"Jin-"

"Just let me talk, okay? Because if I don't say this right now, I never will." Seokjin said, holding up a hand to silence you, and you nodded, a little greatful because you had no idea what the hell to say to that. "I've been in love with you since I was thirteen years old and ten years ago I left because I had nothing to offer you, I had no money, no way to give you your dream house. But now? Now I can give you everything you deserve."

You still didn't know what to say. You stayed quiet, thinking about what he said and how to respond to that because this - Jin telling you he loves you back - is everything you've ever wanted.

"Jin, I didn't need this, it was just a dream. You-" You broke off, emotions choking you up. "You were what I really wanted."

"I know, Y/N. I've known you almost all my life, and I know material things isn't what makes you happy, but I wanted to be able to give them to you." He said sincerely, looking at you with his chocolatey depths that made your heartbeat speed up. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "These last ten years, they were hell with out you. I tried to stay your friend, but it got to hard to talk to you everyday and not be with you, not being able to tell you what I feel. So, I started putting distance between us, promising myself that one day, I'll come back and tell you everything."

Your mouth felt dry, heart thundering in your ears as you looked at him. Your voice was a whisper when you spoke, "Do you know how much you hurt me? Do you have any idea?"

"I do, because it hurt me too. I'm sorry, Y/N, so truly sorry and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me." He said, taking a step forward but you took one back, needing space to think.

"How do I know you won't just leave again?" You asked him, challenging and a little mean.

"Because I love you and I want a life with you." Seokjin said, then much more hesitant and softer, he asked, "Do you want that too?"

You stared at him, heart beating wildly, eyes stinging and chest constricting. You didn't think it was possible to feel this much all at once. Finally, you nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."

Seokjin sighed in relief, shoulders slumping over as he nearly kneeled over with the force of his relief. He took a step closer and when you didn't move away from him again, he stepped closed until he was near enough to pull you close, hugging you tightly to his body, the way your body fit against his familiar, but at the same time it was new because he'd never hugged you before while knowing that you reciprocate his feelings. He dreamed, wished, hoped but never fully believed it. His whole life, everything he built, was done on nothing but his love for you. He didn't know if you felt the same or if you'd even still be here by the time he came back or even if you were, if you would still be single then. All he had was his love. His love that burned brighter than ever before.

"Hey, stupid." You called softly, cheeks aching you were smiling so wide.

"I'm not-" He cut himself off with a resigned sigh. "What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." He said, and you could hear the smile in this voice.

"It's not going to be easy." You warned him, because there was at least sixty different ways this could go wrong. You held him a little tighter and he squeezed back.

"Nothing worth having ever is." He retorted smugly.

"Smartass." You huffed, slapping lightly against his back, more fond than anything else.

"Your smartass, though."

"Yeah," You nodded with a happy smile, lifting your head from his chest so you can look into his eyes. "Mine."

Seokjin cupped your cheeks, leaning down and pressing a quick and gentle kiss against your lips. He pulled away, cheeks a lovely shade of pink. You could feel the heat spreading to your own cheeks as well. "Sorry, I should have asked before I kissed you."

"You call that a kiss?" You huffed, watching as realisation spread in his eyes. He smirked down at you and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, you yanked him down and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss, because really, it's been over a decade since you've wanted to do this. He didn't hesitate to respond to your kiss, just as eagerly and you realised that this was finally happening. After all this time, years of pining and hurting and thinking it never would, it was finally happening.

Your mother is going to gloat all the way into the next century.

the end.

#kim seokjin #bts jin #seokjin #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bts fic #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x oc #jin x oc #jin x you #jin x y/n

[katedrakeohd]

My Own Favorite Dialogue and Why

Drake and Liam may be best friends in TRR canon, but for me the dysfunctional bromance that I've created between Maxwell and Drake is my favorite friendship. For this one from The Lake I loved the angsty/comedy so much I couldn't just select a small part, so I had to post all of it.

From The Lake

Out in the middle of the lake the air is still, the water smooth like glass. It's been an hour since the men cast their fishing lines, and for Maxwell an uneasiness was setting in.

"Are you sure there are fish in this lake?"

Drake looks up from the magazine he's reading, his last bite of sandwich in his hand. "Of course I'm sure. I oversaw the stocking of trout myself."

Maxwell looks down at the half empty can of low alcohol beer in his hand, resenting the lack of buzz he was feeling because of it. "I thought we would have gotten a nibble by now."

Drake shrugs, popping the last piece of his bread crust into his mouth. "You just have to be patient, Max. Sometimes they bite, sometimes they don't."

Maxwell shades his eyes with his hand and gazes off toward the Manor in the distance, it was so tiny and the shoreline seemed so far away. He tried not to imagine how deep and cold the water was beneath them, but it still gnawed at him anyway. He squeezed the backpack between his feet, its contents giving him a slight sense of reassurance.

Drake glanced down at Maxwell's backpack sitting in the belly of the boat. Since leaving the shore he's seen him take out a tube of sunscreen, a granola bar, his mobile phone to take pictures, and repack his sweater when he got too warm. Each time he set it back down there was a strange heavy thump against the wood, and so far it didn't seem to belong to any of the things he'd seen.

Drake shifted his ass on the boat seat, trying to combat the numbness he was feeling. The boat rocked slightly, causing ripples in the water, and for Maxwell to snap at him.

"Hey, man. Don't rock the boat."

Drake rolls his eyes, "Jeez, Max. Paranoid much?"

Max rolls his shoulders, trying to loosen up but he can't, "Seriously, you don't find it creepy? The whole time we've been out on the lake I haven't heard or seen a bird, you'd think there would be some ducks or geese or something."

Drake takes a deep breath and looks around, squints up at the sky, and then looks over to the mountains and trees in the distance. He listens for anything other than the sound of the water lapping at the side of the boat.

 "I suppose it is a little odd. Just yesterday there were lots of geese and ducks paddling along or flying and honking over the lake."

Maxwell lifts and bobs his fishing rod and line in the water. Looking down into the depths he's struck by how it goes from clear to pitch black so quickly. He scoffs and makes a joke, feeling uneasy as the words leave his mouth, "Maybe Gaga ate all the fish, and scared the birds away."

Drake chuckles, "Say, what now? Who or what is Gaga?"

Maxwell's eyes go wide and he looks at Drake with disbelief, "You mean you haven't heard the legend of Gargantua? The monster of Lake Valtoria?"

Drake shakes his head and opens the cooler to get another beer, "You can't be serious, Max. Not every big lake has a monster living in it."

"Trust me, Drake. My house sigil is a giant squid remember? I know my monster legends. How many years have you been stocking the lake, and have you ever caught any of the fish afterwards?"

"As a matter of fact, I caught a fish standing on the dock yesterday. So I know there are fish in the lake." Drake insists as he opens his beer and takes a long swallow, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Ok, well what about the lack of birds?"

Drake sets his beer down with a sigh, scrubbing his forehead with his hands and then raking them back through his hair, "So, now you think some monster is yanking ducks down into the water from underneath?"

Maxwell shrugs, "You never know. Maybe Gaga has a taste for water fowl and fish?"

"Now you're just sounding crazy, Max."

Maxwell shifts forward in his seat, causing his pack to fall forward and make another thump, Drake looks at it again and frowns. Maxwell points an indignant, angry finger at Drake. "Don't you dare call me crazy!"

"You're the one talking about lake monsters, when there's probably some logical reason to explain everything." 

Maxwell picks up his backpack again and hugs it in his lap, his hand finds the weighty item from the outside and shifts it carefully. Drake looks at him suspiciously, "Max?"

"What?" he asks, nervously.

"What's in your backpack?"

Maxwell shrugs, "You know, just the usual 'day out on the lake' sorta stuff."

Drake's eyes narrow, "Why don't I believe you?"

Maxwell hugs the backpack a little tighter to himself, he tries to avoid looking at Drake. Off in the near distance, behind Drake, there's an odd rippling splash on the surface of the lake. Maxwell gasps, trying to swallow the sudden fear constricting his throat.

"Why won't you believe me when I say there's something creepy about this lake?" Maxwell croaks out, pointing over Drake's shoulder.

Drake sighs, turning in his seat to see what Maxwell's pointing at. "I don't see anything."

"There..there was a ripple and a splash on the water. Like..like something big moved it."

When Drake turns back around Maxwell has his hand buried in the backpack, fishing for something. "Max, what are you doing?"

Maxwell's eyes are wide and he's scanning the surface of the lake for more movement. "Ssshh, Gaga will hear you."

Drake frowns with concern and then sits up straighter in the boat to look around again.

"It was probably just a big fish, Max," he says quietly. "Maybe we're finally going to catch something."

A breeze ripples the surface of the lake, and the boat tugs at its anchor line. Maxwell jumps when their fishing rods shift as well. He jerks his hand out of his bag and pulls out an antique pistol.

Drake braces his foot against the end of his fishing rod and puts his hands up and waves them back and forth frantically. He looks at Maxwell and can't believe what he's seeing, "What the Fuck?! You brought a gun on a fishing trip?! Put..that...away."

Maxwell breathes rapidly as he searches the water, swinging the antique firearm from his home's armory back and forth. "It..it was Bertrand's idea. Remember his bachelor party all those years ago, when we met up with that bear, he insisted I take it with me." 

He imitates his brother's voice as he quotes him, "No Beaumont will ever go out adventuring in the wilderness again without protection."

Drake ducks as Maxwell swings the gun back in his direction, "Seriously, Max! You know how I feel about guns. I've already been shot twice, and I'll be damned if I'll let you shoot me by accident while we're fishing."

Maxwell's hand shakes as he continues to look around nervously. Drake reaches forward with fear grinding at his stomach, he pleads with him quietly.."Max....just hand over the gun, okay? We'll pull up the anchor and just go back to shore. We don't have to fish anymore."

Nodding, Maxwell loosens his grip on the weapon as Drake wraps his hand around the barrel. Something splashes the water nearby, making Maxwell jump, causing them both to let go and drop the gun. It hits the bottom of the boat and fires. Drake screams out in pain as the bullet tears through the side of his rubber boot and lodges in the wood of the boat beside him. Water starts to trickle in, and warm blood starts to run down into his boot.

Drake yanks his boot off and pulls his foot up onto the seat and clamps his hands around his bleeding calf. "What the fuck?!" he screams, glaring at Maxwell angrily. 

Maxwell picks up the gun from the bottom of the boat and throws it overboard. "I..I'm so sorry Drake!"

Drake leans to the side, his hand shaking as he gets his pocket knife out of his back pocket. Maxwell panics and chops at Drake's wrist with his hand, causing him to drop it when Drake pries the blade free. 

"What are you doing?!" Drake barks at him with surprise and reaches for his knife again, it's now wet from the lake water pooling in the bottom of the boat.

Maxwell folds his hands over his chest, feeling embarrassment flooding his face with heat, "Oh..oh my God, I thought you were going to stab me with it, or something."

Drake grumbles as he cuts open the bottom of his bloody pant leg below the knee with the blade, "There's still time. Now either get with hauling up that fucking anchor, or calling for help before we sink goddamnit!"

Maxwell trips over the drink cooler, and soggy picnic basket as he stands up, trying to pull the anchor rope up out of the water. It won't budge, and his efforts are now causing him to rock the boat side to side dangerously. 

Drake curses to himself as he cuts a strip of denim and wraps it around his bleeding leg tightly. "Careful now, Max."

Both fishing rods teeter into the water and disappear. Drake keeps a close eye on the oars, praying they don't go next. Maxwell tries again to pull the anchor up by the rope but the nylon burns at his hands and he hisses in pain and then lets go. He stumbles back to where he was sitting and flops down heavily, wiping his sore palms on his thighs.

"I...I ca..can't. What the ..heck..did you..anchor...us to?"

Drake rinses his bloody hands in the lake, and then dries them on the sleeves of his denim shirt. "Ok then, I'll try the anchor and you try calling or texting for help."

 He cuts strips from his denim sleeves and then wraps his hands for padding. Wincing in pain he swings his leg over to straddle his seat and then reaches for the anchor rope.

Maxwell holds up his phone trying to find bars of service, "You've gotta be kidding me! Oh, wait there's a blip. I'll try sending a text to see if I can get through. Who should I try?"

Drake grunts as the rope finally starts to come up out of the water, but it was a lot heavier than it should be. Sweat bloomed on his brow and stung at his eyes, he swiped his face against his shoulder, "Preston... is standing by..in case of emergencies."

"What's his number?"

Drake rhymes off his number and grits his teeth, pulling the wet rope inch by inch into the boat. The burn in his calf muscle is intense and he wonders what ancient dirty projectile that antique pistol was loaded with. He could see Maxwell frowning down at his phone. 

"Well, did you get through?"

He shrugs, "I sent it, but don't know if it went anywhere."

Drake looks down into the water, wondering what his anchor could be tangled around to make it so heavy. He pauses to catch his breath, and feels the rope vibrate in his hands and then go still. It's almost as if something rubbed up against it and then moved on. His heart starts hammering in his chest and cold fear creeps into his gut. His throat goes dry as he takes a deep breath and drops the rope back into the water. He didn't want to see what was down there anymore. Maxwell was still trying to send panicked texts to anyone who could receive them.

"Fuck it," Drake mutters and uses his knife to cut the anchor free. 

The nylon rope floats on the surface of the water for a few seconds and then disappears into the darkness as if it were yanked. Drake jumps back with surprise and then watches, holding his breath, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. Several feet down at the deepest point that was reached by sunlight, where the clearest water went dark, an even darker shape slowly sank beneath the boat and then disappeared.

............

I've written many first time moments for Drake and (MC) Kate in various timelines and stories. But it wasn't until I started writing "What Happens in Paris.." from Kate's point of view that I found my favorite passionately charged moment between them. Feeding off the emotional evening with Drake that included Liam's second bachelor party and the never have I ever scenes, I found a way to push Drake over the edge and succumb to the mutual attraction between them.

From What Happens in Paris..

"Uh, Darling?  What do you think you're doing? You know we can't..." he says, although the look in his eyes betrays the way he really feels.

"We can't what, Drake?" I say, stepping away from the door and pressing my body up against his. He's still holding onto my hands, and now our faces are so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. 

"Darling…" he warns, as I flex my hands out of his grasp and undo the next button of his shirt. It's such a tease how he's already left the top button undone for me. My thumbs push the material aside and I slide my hands in. He takes a sharp breath in when I touch him, and I feel his chest rise and fall along with the rapid beating of his heart.

I pop another button out of its hole, and lean in to kiss his throat as my hands continue to explore his chest, tugging his shirt out of the waist of his pants. He hasn't stopped me yet, and I look up at the darkness in his eyes and the pained expression on his face. 

"Kiss me, Drake." I plead. "I know you want to."

Cupping my head in his hands, he tilts my chin up and leans in. I close my eyes. But instead of feeling his lips on mine he plants kisses along my jawline and I hear his voice rasp in my ear, hitching with desire, "And if I want to.. do more than kiss you?"

I gasp, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my fists as his nose traces the shell of my ear, and his stubble bristles against my cheek. "Ye -..."

But my reply is swallowed up by his mouth as it captures mine, and he presses me up against the door.

His kisses are hungry and I struggle for breath as he grabs my wrists again and pins them up above my head. His knee parts my thighs and I can feel how hard he is underneath his jeans.

When he finally releases my mouth, and presses his forehead against mine we're both panting. "Tell me.. to stop," he groans between breaths.

....

Drake is my favorite Choices character and thus he's the one I abuse and make suffer the most. 🤣 This next dialogue is from Cordonia 1885 between Drake and a hotel employee when they share a "holy/what the f*ck" moment that confounds them both.

Because of the grisly, graphic nature of this vampire fic I will just post a link and you can read it if you want. Cordonia 1885 - Chapter One

...

There are so many other favorite scenes/dialogue that this post could go on forever..LOL

Thanks @dcbbw for the tag, it's been so much fun to revisit some of my older stuff and experience it again. I look forward to next week's Monday Funday prompt.

#long post #monday funday #favorite dialogue

[thesalvationofdoriangray]

Friends

Writing to Sleepy Fish- Space Cadet

Basketball always is my highlight of the week no matter how it goes. Kevin Gao is funny. Couldn't stop laughing with this guy. He wears these flamboyantly short shorts and jiggles his thighs in a way where it makes this hilarious sound. I call him the quadzilla because dude is not shy about showing off his quadricep muscles. I remember one time when Kevin came to Bible study wednesday night. He was asking very rudimentary questions about his faith and he was very serious about learning. I remember two people there that were laughing at him in a joking way but there wasn't anything funny about his questions. Seemed sincere to me. I recall Greg saying," What is so funny you guys?" I hope he was able to continue seeking and find what he was looking for.

Nice armpit hair Ray. Just a beast in his natural habitat. Ray always cracks me up. We always break out in laughing fits. He's going to move soon and marry Joyce. They make a mighty fine couple. Ray's got this innocent childlike personality that is hard not to love. I still remember when I first met him, we were laughing about something silly in the garage at OPD. I'm going to miss this kid when he's gone.

We had a conversation today about guns and he wants to go shooting with me. He said Joyce refuses to have a gun in the house. I mean these are honest, prim, and proper folks we're talking about here. Statistically they won't need a gun. But you never know. My boy Harvey is prim and proper and Mexicans shot at him while robbing his house in a nice neighborhood. Ray says in a home invasion, all he has to do is comply. Plus he doesn't want to put bullet holes in the way. This guy is asian as hell lol. Always thinking about saving money even in a life or death situation. He most certainly will be the first to become rich out of my circle. The hearts of men can be evil, they might put a bullet in between your eyes just to leave no witnesses. Plus all this is hypothetical. If shit hit the fan, I know he would be thinking about protecting Joyce. He will understand when he gets married. I love Ray. When I climb out of sheoul and meet the love of my life, especially if I have a kid, I'd kill every single intruder in that house to protect my family. Don't give me this pacifist BS about how I should have faith in God and how my fate is in God's hand. My puny brain is too minuscule to comprehend the wonders of God but I know for a fact that's not how he operates. I've been home invaded by masked men and on another occasion taken for over 22 grand in crispy one hundreds. What did David do when his wives, livestock, and spoils were taken by the Amalekites after the burning of Zilkag? He did what every man should do. He marched out with 400 out of 600, slaughtered them and retrieved everything. Nothing was missing great or small. I'll never forget being tied up and the way it felt when a crowbar was sliding against my teeth. Perpitrator quietly mutters in my ear, "Do you want your teeth? Tell me where your stash is located." Even when I hear random sounds in a house, it'll send off red flags if I can't identify them right away. I'm the way I am from my past. I will always be in support of firearms and it is our right to bear arms. When I die, I don't want anything ridiculous like spreading my ashes in the ocean. Just bury me next to my parents with my Bible and my pistol.

Pete got me the Apocrypha. He's known that I've always wanted to read it since it has the books of Maccabees in it but it was not allowed in OPD. I still remember secretly reading The Essence of Christianity by Ludwig Feuerbach and making it my mission for apologetics because it's actually a book defending atheism. Anyways, the Maccabean dynasty was an era between the last prophet and Roman occupation when Judas the Hammer emancipated the Jews from the evil Greek king Antiochus, one of Alexander's four generals after his death.

My landlord made me Ning Chi hotpot. This man spent a 1 hr and 45 mins talking to me a few days ago. Vincent is full of lot of wisdom and he's also a believer. He really put things into perspective. Jesus once said the light of the body is the lamp of the eyes. Essentially it winds down to how I look at things. My mentors in my early adulthood were dope fiends, drug peddlers, and criminals. I'll never forget my friend Mickey, miss him but he's probably doing hard time again. It's a blessing now that I have so many mentors who are men of God and I must give thanks.

Tammy invited me to watch The Chosen with Vertigo people. I have social anxiety right now. It's better to admit it then pretend I'm some kind of pillar of strength. I got some demons I have to decapitate. Let me keep it real even if it's embarrassing. If I'm embarrassed then good. Like my mentor said, "You remember this moment the next time you deviate from the righteous path." When I become a pillar of strength, I won't have to say anything. People will just know and believe me, that moment is in the near future. I'm tired of living in denial and either in 1st or 2nd Peter, it says the truth will set me FREE.

Sometimes I'm not sure why people think about me. I'm practically a ghost. I guess that's the love of God working through them and for that I'm thankful. I'm use to people calling me for dope and the moment they get their fix, they disappear. I guess I'm going to have to relearn what healthy friendships are.

Heavenly Father,

You are the most gracious and almighty Lord of the heavens and earth. You are the father of lights, the source from which all things came. Even when it is cloudy, you hold the the world in place emanating light and life. There is nothing out of your reach. There is nothing that's impossible with you by my side. I pray that you take this heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh. Help me to love and feel loved again. Please instill in me a heart of humility so that I may always see things truthfully. I give gratitude for all these wonderful people that you have strategically placed in my life. Each with a specific purpose and spiritual gift to show me about you and myself.

In the precious name of Christ, Amen