#sea salt lamp | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 2 months

Text

purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here; on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer.

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisted like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away.

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes; the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness.

“First of all; I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous, too.”

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away; turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of judgmental eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome; a fucking hunk.” The blue eyed boy gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it; leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder.

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. The blue eyed boy knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, sex machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see; too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking a break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much.

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit it all out, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea?

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finland—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive seem like four hours—stop it already.”

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips.

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a sip, realizing he has finished it all while you were busy not looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you; wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say; I never want to leave Finland.”

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes; don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar.

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.”

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing across his figure. “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer.

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting; I think I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…” Huh, Alex hums.

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him.

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know.

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse.

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings.

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto a plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern.

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins!

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin.

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles.

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.”

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world; nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you.

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade darker due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him; something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code; and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together; who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like these would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friends stroll away. He actually paid attention.

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

950 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 10 months

Text

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

pairing: lighthouse keeper!joel miller x mermaid!reader

genre: mermaid AU, explicit, fluff, comfort, romance, minors dni

word count: 8.5k

summary: As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

warnings: mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

a/n: full disclaimer I made up the mermaid lore, facts and anatomy, the only mermaid romance book I read was goddess of the sea by P.C. Cast and I read that all the way back in high school so I remember very little of it (I think I remember some of the steamy stuff but honestly it's all very vague so if there are any similarities that's why) 🧜‍♀️🌊

**stunning gif made by fanna aka @pedrorascal 💙

When in darkness look for the light.

Joel heard this at different points in his life. His father, bless his soul, adamant about reminding him that there was always good to be found, even when it didn’t seem like it. When his father passed, Joel thought of the words endlessly. The more he thought about them, the more it made less and less sense to him. What was one supposed to do when the light that was sought didn’t exist? It would’ve made more sense to him if the message was about creating your own light, not depending on another. He would make sure to remember that if he ever had kids.

The lantern in his hand groaned upon placing it on the nearby windowsill. It was a small window, the glass coated in thick dust. He smelled the sea. The salt of it burned his nostrils, the taste lingered on his tongue.

With a practiced hand, Joel reached for the oil lamp, its polished brass surface gleamed in the fading light. He carefully opened the reservoir cap and began pouring the clear, fragrant oil. The room filled with a faint scent. He listened to the waves as he lit the lantern, creating the sole light that guided him up the lighthouse. Joel imagined the violent waters hitting the bedrock. With time, they would all turn into sand. He looked up. The stairs were endless, going round and round. He spotted seaweed and mold in the same places, observed the humidity that darkened the underside of the stairs that barely hung onto the walls.

The small flame on the wick grew, casting an amber light that illuminated the inside. Joel's eyes focused on the growing flame, his gaze steady as he watched the light take hold.

“I’m home,” he said freely, his voice echoing. On the contrary belief, Joel actually had a regular home. He had a stove, a fridge, a bed. But this... this always felt like his true home. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere, all of it was familiar, hugging him tight as soon as he stepped inside.

He climbed the stairs, his knees starting to ache when he was halfway to the light room. He didn’t stop, only slowed his steps. The air was fresher at the top. More breathable compared to where he was not moments ago.

He reached the top of the staircase, his breaths coming in steady rhythm as he pushed through the burn in his knees. The narrow corridor opened up into the lantern room, and he stepped into the circular chamber.

Joel reached for the mechanism that controlled the rotation. He gave it a gentle turn, feeling the gears engage beneath his touch. The light began to move, its beam sweeping across the darkening sea. The room filled with the rhythmic cadence of the light's rotation.

But that wasn’t the only thing that reached his ears.

A melody that flowed like the ebb and flow of the tides called out to him, guiding him to the clear, towering windows of the lighthouse. Every night he heard it, yet never managed to see the person—or thing—responsible for it. For years it had accompanied him. Another friend that the sea had gifted him to fight the loneliness he felt from time to time. His nose nearly brushed the glass, a chill settling in his bones. Sometimes he thought he heard lyrics as painful as the song itself.

Joel’s brows furrowed when he noticed the thick fog settling above the water. No matter the light he put out into the world, it would be a hard night for captains and crew.

The cadence still heavy in his ear, Joel stepped away from the panes. He picked up his log book and took a seat. He grimaced when the chair groaned under his weight. Joel had placed his desk so he would still have a view of the sea. The brine-laden air filled his lungs as he ruffled through the pages.

Picking up his pen, Joel began to write.

Lighthouse Keeper's Log: Joel M. Date: October 22, 18XX Weather: Heavy fog blanketing the coastline, strong easterly wind, temperature 58°F. Lighting Operations: Lit the lamp at 18:30 hours. Due to thick fog, visibility greatly reduced; light rotation pattern altered to emit one long white flash every 20 seconds. Despite challenging conditions, light remains steadfast in its duty. Vessel Sightings: Limited visibility makes it impossible to spot distant vessels. Unusually rough seas observed, even in the absence of a clear storm. Large waves breaking against the shore; powerful surges felt within the lighthouse. Remaining emergency supplies: Blankets, dry rations, and signal flares. Remarks and Notes: The fog is a thick shroud, obscuring the sea beyond the immediate coastline. The normally serene cove now a theater of restless energy, waves crashing against the rocks with an almost primal force. An eerie beauty to the fog and the untamed sea—a reminder of nature's might and mystery. Life at the Lighthouse: Dinner of canned beans and bread awaits. Appetite normal.

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek. He tapped his pen against the worn paper before resuming taking his notes.

Heard the song again. It always sounds like it’s in longing for something more. I’m starting to think I’m making it up from my own loneliness. But I can’t really complain much I picked this life.

He let out a groan. There was some comfort in knowing no one would read these but he didn’t want to sound like a crazy person if someone did end up stumbling across the notes.

Joel leaned back in his chair, extending his legs. His muscles hummed happily at the stretch. He still had to check and make sure what supplies he had left to put in the log, he also needed to make sure no additional repairs were needed. He dragged a heavy palm down his face. Why the hell didn’t he check when he entered the base? Now he had to go down all those stairs again. He loved the lighthouse but hell, he could do with less workout.

With a sigh, he got up and left the room. He descended the narrow spiral staircase that wound its way down into the base of the lighthouse. He carried a lantern to light his way, its feeble glow dancing against the walls. The sound of the crashing waves outside gradually faded into a distant rumble. His unease grew as the melody disappeared completely.

Joel knew the lighthouse like he did the back of his hand. But that didn’t mean the structure even spooked him from time to time. It wasn’t easy being alone in the dark, watching the endless horizon just wondering about life. Hearing the aria subdued those thoughts— the thoughts that made a convincing point that he’s lived an empty life.

Reaching the bottom, Joel stepped into the dimly lit chamber that housed the mechanical workings of the lighthouse. Gears and mechanisms stood in silent vigil, their intricate interplay hidden beneath layers of metal and shadow. The steady tick-tock of the clockwork echoed softly in the confined space.

Setting the lantern on a nearby table, Joel approached the massive gear assembly responsible for the light's rotation. He ran his fingers along the metal surfaces, feeling the vibrations as the gears turned in precise harmony. His trained touch could detect even the slightest irregularity.

A toolbox lay open on the table, its contents glinting in the lantern light. Joel selected a wrench and began to carefully tighten bolts and adjust connections. He moved with the grace of a musician tuning an instrument.

As he worked, his thoughts shifted to his guitar at home. He wanted to play again. Perhaps accompany the song he heard every night. His fingers weren’t as they used to be. It took time to remember how to move them over the strings, the cords, it frustrated him, making it easier to give up as soon as he touched the instrument.

The lantern's glow flickered as Joel adjusted the final cog, ensuring that the gears meshed flawlessly. Satisfied with his work, he stood back and observed the assembly for a moment, watching as the clockwork continued its patient dance.

Then. . . a sound.

An unfamiliar sound. It was followed by a frustrated shout and some wild splashing. Joel stood still, his spine stiff as they came. He thought the sea was playing tricks on him, which was why he remained there. Listening. The sound repeated itself, some colorful curses flying out of the mouth of whoever lingered outside of the lighthouse’s walls.

Joel promptly headed for the door. Whoever it was, it sounded like they needed help. His mind raced. It could’ve been a multitude of things; a shipwreck that led hald conscience crew to the shores, a kid playing past their curfew, a—

. . . a woman entangled in a net.

What?

He stilled, eyes wide with shock. All air was expelled from his lungs, mouth incredibly dry despite the chill that quickly settled in his bones. He blinked over and over, his mind trying to comprehend the sight before him. Waves crashed around her, framing her while she fought against the stubborn net. It’d been a while since Joel was in close proximity to a woman. He wasn’t a hermit, but most of the time he kept to himself, and when he needed a release provided from something other than his hand. . . he earned enough a month to spend on certain services.

She was beautiful. Her back bare and her front hidden, looking like a starfish washed a shore. She struggled again and with a snarl, she flipped over.

Joel’s cheeks warmed, the night chill that settled in his bones quickly dissipated thanks to the sight before him. As if to accommodate the moment, a particularly large wave washed over her, drops of salty water wetting the cuffs of his pants. She only wore a bra—at least that was what Joel assumed it was. It was the same color of a brewing storm, silver that gradually softened as it disappeared into her skin. Stunning.

He swallowed. Temptation fogged his mind, his cock becoming stiff under the thick fabric. He was only a man after all. Joel knew little that could resist someone like her, she was hypnotic. With another swallow, his gaze moved lower. He wondered if the rest of her was just as revealing.

But the rest of her was hidden by the vastness of the sea.

For the better, he thought, cock straining against the zipper. He wouldn’t have touched her, of course, but it would’ve made it harder to think.

And to help her.

Joel's gaze finally met her face, which was equally as beautiful as the rest of her, despite being the target of her unwavering glare.

“Ahoy,” he said, voice thick. His greeting did little in wiping away her untrusting stare. “Uh. . .seems like you’ve gotten yourself in a. . . bind.”

“Funny,” she answered, her voice the complete opposite of the statement. Wrestling against the net, a hiss escaped her lips the moment she tried. “Are you going to help or just make puns, human?”

Human?

Joel raised an eyebrow, being caught in a net would be annoying for sure but it shouldn’t be hurting her. He tilted his head and came closer. She regarded him like a wild animal, her need to flee evident in her eyes. He sighed. “Don’t give me the coyote look, I’m not a canine.”

“I’ll look at you however I want to.”

She moved and when the net brushed against her skin, she winced in pain. Pulling her arms close to her chest, she made an effort to keep from touching it. This time the pain was evident over the contours of her face, prompting worry to cross over his.

“Stop movin’,” he ignored her sharp tongue and knelt next to her. “Is that a barbed net? Shit. We need to cut you out.”

Another wave. A scream.

Panic flared under his skin, without telling her to wait, he jolted inside of the lighthouse. He rummaged through his toolbox and when he came back, Joel noticed the trickle of blood going down her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, his body collapsed onto his throbbing knees. “I’ll get you out.”

Her stare grew gentle as he meticulously severed the ropes. Joel's attention was drawn to the cuts and bruises that marred her. He didn’t even know her name but he knew that he hated seeing her like that. So hurt and vulnerable. Another wave washed over them. Joel snarled at the sea, his annoyance growing at the wickedness of his greatest love.

“The name’s Joel,” he grunted and moved down her body, freeing her inch by inch. Her spine turned as rigid as a plank. “Am I hurtin’ you?” he asked, stopping momentarily. He looked up but she wasn’t facing him.

“I-It’s not that,” she said. All of her bite from before had dissolved like foams upon the sea. “My. . .lower half got caught up badly when I tried to break free. It—It might be too gruesome to see, so just give me the cutters and you can go.”

Joel scoffed. As if he would let her do this by herself. “If you’re hurt that bad all the more reason to stay and help you, honey. Just stay still.”

“But—”

“Stay still,” he ordered. Joel spread his finger across her lower back. He was surprised to find her skin so cold. He needed to free her and wrap a blanket around her ASAP.

One by one, he cut through the net, more of her exposed to him. It almost felt like he shouldn’t be seeing such a sight. It didn’t matter though, he’d help her no matter what— he’d decided on that the first moment he laid his eyes on her. His hand moved downward, pinning her to the spot, maintaining her still. She let out a gasp, one laced with fear. Joel didn’t understand why.

He shook his head and pressed on.

Only when he lowered his gaze back down did he feel it. The smooth, leathery texture of her skin. It was slippery, soft. . . scaled. It took his eyes a moment to process. Subtle around her waist, the color became more pronounced as it extended downward. Scales. Beautiful scales that shined under the moonlight. It was the same color as her bra, gray that cheated its way to a light shade of blue. Joel swore he saw some gold scattered in there as well.

He stopped moving—hell, he stopped breathing.

“You noticed,” she said simply. Joel’s head snapped towards the voice, the tips of his ears red.

“What—” he shook his head. “Are you a fuckin’ mermaid?”

Silence.

“. . . maybe.”

“Don’t pull my leg, girl,” he warned. The words didn’t match his tone. Joel was simply in awe, his mind more of a mess. “I can see your damn scales as clear as day.”

“Then why are you asking?” she snapped. “Could you please just help me out? It hurts.”

“I was just curious,” Joel grunted, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t say anything else and continued in silence. When she was free, he threw the net toward the lighthouse. He would discard it later. “Now what?”

“Now,” she answered, the first smile gracing her lips. “I leave. Thank you.”

Joel couldn’t deny the selfish throb of his heart. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted her to stay—wanted her to want to stay. With him. Why was that he didn’t know. A cold gust of wind blew while he watched. The mermaid turned to swim away, and as she did Joel didn’t miss the small tell tales of pain.

He saw blood. It turned the sea into a nasty color. The words clawed up to his throat, he pushed them back as much as he could.

Stay.

He wanted to shout but couldn’t. It wasn’t his place.

Luckily, fate was on his side tonight.

She couldn’t move her tail, every movement like knives into her meaty flesh. The waves slowly brought her back to shore, like a gift.

Her, however, didn’t share his enthusiasm. Tears built in her eyes, again, Joel could swear he saw golden specks in them.

“I have a place,” he said. “A secret place you can stay until you heal. I have supplies.” when she didn’t seem convinced, he added. “Let me take care of you. Please.”

A male. A human male.

A man.

The notion still escaped you, his hands one of a gentle giant’s as he carried you down the treacherous steps. He didn’t attempt to steal your gaze no matter how long you stared at him. And no matter the pain, you couldn’t stop. There was a roughness to his features, his appearance rugged with lines deepened by time drawn over his face. You observed the grays in his hair, in his beard. Witnessed the divot in the middle of his bottom lip, so full for a man seemingly unbothered by what you were.

No matter how strong or wise, to see a creature that was believed to be none other than myth must’ve come as a shock.

But you remained silent.

So did he.

You settled on observing your surroundings. Nestled beneath the weathered stone foundation of the lighthouse, smooth walls resided, etched over centuries by the relentless caress of the sea, glistened as if adorned by a myriad of precious gems. The low ceiling, curved and worn, hinted at the gentle erosion that had sculpted this intimate haven.

The passage meandered downward, its narrowness opening into a grand expanse that drew a gasp from your numb lips. The chamber widened into an awe-inspiring grotto. Stalactites and stalagmites formed natural columns that reached toward each other as if yearning for an embrace. The rhythmic lullaby of waves filtered through unseen crevices.

At the heart of the chamber, a crystalline pool shimmered in shades of sapphire and emerald. Slender rays of moonlight, filtered through a labyrinth of underwater tunnels. An intricately woven nest of dried seaweed laid upon the surface, the smell of it reminiscent of home.

However, you weren’t one to lower your guard so easily. No matter how pretty the prison was.

Still in his arms, you shoot him a look of untrust. The fingers that gingerly held you tensed, blunt nails slightly digging into your wounded flesh. “Don’t give me that look,” he grumbled, averting his gaze. “It’s connected to the sea, you can leave whenever you want. . . or escape, if you would prefer to put it that way,” he walked to where the sea connected to the earth. “It’s completely closed off to the outside. If someone wants to find this place they’ll have to go into the lighthouse first and well,” he turned sheepish, red coloring his cheeks. “No one does.”

“That’s kinda sad,” you remarked. You didn’t ignore the twinge of sadness coiling your heart. “You don’t have a family?”

“No,” he answered. You didn’t expect to hear the rasp of his voice, the same tone when you dragged your finger through the rough gravel of the shores. He still refused to meet your gaze. “So. . . you’ll be safe. You don’t need to worry.”

Joel gently lowered you into the sea, his legs half-submerged in the water. As salt touched the wounds, an incoming hiss grated against your throat, and pain bloomed, spreading through your tail.

You discerned the sound of his pulse racing beneath the cloak of his human flesh and bone. When you turned to look, you found him both mesmerized and distressed.

“Can I bring you medicine?” he frowned when your gaze turned into one of amusement. “What? Don’t mermaids need medicine?”

“Not for something like this,” you grinned. You thread your fingers in the water, careful not to move your tail as much as you moved to lay face first on the shore. “The sea will heal me. It hurts, but the wounds aren’t big enough that it would require external help.”

Defeated, he shook his head, “If you say so, sweetheart.”

You watched as he balled his hands into fists and released them. He repeated the motion over and over until he prepared to leave. Your eyebrows raised. He wanted to take care of you, ached for the companionship the close proximity would force upon them. Surprisingly, you felt bad. You’ve seen this lighthouse a million times, never once you thought such a sad man would be on the other side of cold walls. You sucked a sharp breath and decided to throw him a bone.

“I will need food,” you called out, stopping him in his tracks. His shoulders raised, you swore if he were a dog his ears would be standing with attention. You swiped a tongue over your bottom lip, a bit of life in them now that you were in the water, he had a strong back, wide shoulders that any creature would admire.

“What d’you eat?”

You smiled, “Anything really. I’m not picky.”

He turned then, he seemed so large in front of the narrow path that would lead up to the lighthouse. “What about fish?”

“Unlike what your fairytales might entail, we do eat fish,” you answered with a burst of laughter.

You laughed again when the crease between his brows deepened. He wrinkled his nose, “Feels wrong.”

Despite his words, he looked lightened by your laughter, something like adoration swimming in his eyes.

You shrugged and shuffled further into the water. It signaled the end of the conversation, prompting Joel to disappear back into the depressing labyrinth of the lighthouse. With a sigh, you turned your back, staring at the ceiling. You wondered how long you’d have to stay here. You had wrinkled your nose at the medicine that was offered, yet you knew it wouldn’t be a speedy recovery.

You sighed again, disappearing into the water. You watched as the last of your oxygen formed bubbles that head to the surface, your gills starting to expand. The image of the stalactites became distorted, the moonlight that touched the soft waves bouncing around in the water.

You really shouldn’t be complaining. At least the human who found you seemed to be a good one unlike the many you’ve seen during the centuries you lived.

The ache in your tail growing tender, you closed your eyes.

Joel, despite his imposing ruggedness, was quite nurturing. As the day passed, you noticed that he began to regard you with a sense of purpose. He went back home during the days, only to come back with heaping amounts of food and water.

He never did bring you fish though, which made you giggle whenever you thought of it.

“You don’t drink water.” Joel had said it as a statement rather than a question. You nodded and pushed a plump grape between your lips. The salt from your skin coated the fruit, highlighting the flavor.

“I don’t.”

“Is there somethin’ else that you drink? I can try to find it for you,” he said thoughtfully. His eyes met yours, your grin making him short of breath. He looked away, something that he commonly did whenever he was frustrated. And you noticed how easy it was to rile him up whenever you stretched, the sheer scales that covered your breasts almost sheer. You thoroughly enjoyed his gaping mouth and lustful gaze. You wondered when was the last time this man was touched.

"Drinking water, as you know it on land, is quite different for me beneath the waves," you explained with a playful glint in your eyes. "You see, our world is a delicate balance of salt and currents, and our bodies have adapted to it."

You gestured gracefully to the shimmering water around you, your tail swaying gently with the motion of the still water. "When I need water, I don't sip from a cup or a stream. Instead, I have a connection with the sea itself. Just as your body knows how to breathe without thinking, my tail and skin allow water to flow through."

"Imagine this," you continued. "In the embrace of the ocean, my body senses the ebb and flow of the tides, the salt and minerals suspended in every drop. When I need hydration, my skin and scales absorb the sea's essence, drawing it into my very being."

You leaned closer, lips an inch away from his, your voice a mesmerizing cadence. Joel’s breath hitched, his chest expanding with each word whispered. He licked his lips, your eyes dropping to observe the movement. You imagined that same tongue sinking into your mouth, licking the salt. A shudder crawled up your spine, your breasts feeling tender and heavy. "So, you see, I drink in a way that's in tune with the rhythm of the sea, a silent conversation with the waves themselves. It's a connection, a dance of existence that ties me to the world I call home."

“Do you miss it?”

The question took you by surprise and you blinked rapidly, “What?”

“Your home?”

“I—” Such a perceptive man. It surprised you. “The sea is my home. I’m never apart from it,” you said, shaking your head. A soft smile touched your lips.

“What about where you were born?” he pressed. “Your family? Friends?”

“So many questions,” you hummed. And, with a burst of confidence, you touched his cheek. Him leaning into the touch was something you hadn’t expected. “I’m not to go back.”

“You were banished?”

“I left.” it looked like he was about to ask more. Before he could, you pressed your thumb against his lips, feeling his warmth, his whole body grew rigid but didn’t pull away. “Too many rules,” you explained. “Not a very fun place to live.”

With a graceful flick of your tail, you returned to the water, leaving a glistening trail of droplets in your wake. You vanished beneath the surface, you waited a moment and look up. There he was, leaning further into the water. Trying to capture a glimpse of the mythical creature he was nursing to health—

Propelling yourself with a force gentle enough that wouldn’t re-open the wounds, you broke through the surface and wrapped your arms around his neck. He let out a yelp as you pulled him under, bubbles caressing your bodies, rushing to escape the sea. Joel’s eyes went wide, panic lingering in the depths. You met his gaze and smiled, his heartbeat was muffled yet loud under the water. In order to calm him, you placed an open palm right above that frantically beating heart, closing your eyes, you willed your emotions over him. Calmness. Serenity.

You’re safe with me, Joel. The only one of your kind that can say that.

He heard you. You watched the panic melt away from his gaze, replacing it with shock. Normally, if he was a merman himself, he’d be able to answer. Something tugged at your heartstrings, your gaze falling to the depths of the water.

You felt his hands cup your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to him. He was firm, warm against your chest. To be touched. . . you missed it. Like he did when you cupped his cheek, you nuzzled closer to him. Your breasts flushed over the planes of his body, your nipples tight as they grazed against the fabric of his shirt.

Warmth.

You chased it. Ached for it. He seemed to be the same. His fingers denting your flesh, his arousal hard over your stomach. You would’ve allowed him anything in that moment. For him to kiss you, hold you, fuck you— you’d grant him anything, like a genie in a bottle.

But, nonetheless, he was human. And humans needed air no matter how strongly they fought against it.

His eyes became apologetic, brows furrowing. He gestured up and you shook your head, prompting confusion to cross his face.

Mermaids were known to take human lovers. They would usually transform once a month to head for the shores. No one wanted to share more of themselves than they had to. Their world was a secret to be kept, an unspoken rule they all knew since birth. Looking at him, you knew he was at his last drops of oxygen. His cheeks were puffed up, eyes questioning your motives.

Evolution had granted your kind one more gift—the gift of life.

Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers bunched the collar of his shirt, you tugged the fabric. The sound of the currents flooded your ears. You felt your gills expand. Joel was unaware, he brushed your lips together, eyes coming to a close.

A kiss. A simple kiss.

His lips parted alongside yours, his tongue curious. You met him halfway and slanted your mouth over his, closing the gap entirely.

You breathed air into him. Filling his lungs with oxygen. Your gills quivered at how much was needed for him to make this moment last. His chest dilated and Joel finally opened his eyes. With a smile, you pulled back, dragging your lips down to his neck instead. Slightly embarrassed of what he might think of it.

His fingers curled under your chin, pulling you back up so you’d face him. You laughed when Joel attempted to ask his questions with nothing other than his eyes.

You didn’t answer this time, only shrugged. His lips broke into an exasperated smile and despite the lack of it, you felt the air around you crackling, arousal pouring between your legs and mixing with the sea.

Joel pulled you towards his lips once more. Eager for another taste.

She was sleeping.

Joel’s steps were feather-light as he approached her, his guitar in hand. He’d foolishly mentioned how he was trying to remember and her eyes had gone wide with excitement, asking him to bring it over. But since she was sleeping, he decided not to bother her with it and gently placed the instrument aside.

He asked about it once, how her kind slept, apparently, they would drift to sleep underwater most of the time. That’s where they felt safest. He didn’t pry on the matter but could hear a hint of hurt lingering under her words.

So, when he first saw her sleeping, his heart had warmed at the sight.

Right now was no different. His gut felt oddly warm, his heart swelling in his chest, everything feeling a bit too tight.

They hadn’t talked about the kiss—or the touches for that matter.

Again, he hadn’t pressed for answers. He wasn’t sure what good they would do anyway. They were a part of different worlds, different species, how would it work?

Joel tilted his head to the side.

Seriously how would it work? She didn’t have. . . well. . . a vagina. At least not one he could see.

Did she lay eggs?

Joel blanked at the thought. They drank like fish so who was to say that they didn’t procreate like them too?

He violently shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about that, it was none of his goddamn business. With his mind feeling clearer, his eyes roamed over her sleeping figure. She was a silent sleeper. Her hands were tucked under her head, most of her tail submerged beneath the water, flowing freely with the soft ripples of water. All he wanted to do was to kneel beside her and stroke her hair, her body that seemed soft and supple.

Joel managed to do half of what he wanted. He took a seat near her, the gravel crunching under his weight, her breathing more audible now that he was close.

It’d been almost a month since he found her entangled within the nasty fisher’s net. He didn’t know how long it took mermaids to heal but he had a sneaking suspicion that she had. His mouth dried, a sudden uncomfort riling his stomach. He was afraid she was staying here for his sake. To spare his feelings. That notion just didn’t sit right with him. It was unfair to her, and, in some ways, it was unfair to him. He didn’t believe a creature like her would want to stay with an old man like him. He had nothing to offer. No land, no money, no nothing.

Only the lighthouse.

The kiss had been one of convenience, he told himself almost every night, stroking himself while replaying the moment over and over. He hadn��t visited the brothel since. None of them could compare to how she made him feel, and he doubt he’d go even after she left.

“You’re thinking loud,” a murmur came from next to him. She stirred and flipped to her back, eyes finding his a second later. Joel could see her dreams still glimmering in her eyes, adding a shine. Her brows furrowed when his gaze lingered longer than it should have. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he answered. “I brought the guitar.”

“Really?” she was suddenly wide away, her upper hand lifting and tail splashing as she came to a sitting position. “Will you play for me?”

Despite himself, he grinned, “That’s why I brought it, sweetheart.”

He reached out and picked it up. When he returned, he caught her eyes on the exposed skin of his stomach, her lips parted. Briefly, her gaze found his.

“I—um—” she looked away, bottom lip sucked between her teeth. “I know some songs so maybe I can join your playing.”

Something flickered inside of him—a familiarity he couldn’t quite place.

“That sounds lovely,” he balanced the guitar over his lap and strummed a couple of strings, their sound filling the cave. His gaze expectant as he looked back at her. “Go on now, don’t be shy.”

She puffed her cheeks, huffing with annoyance, “That’s not fair, I said I would join you, not the other way around.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart,” with a fixed gaze, his eyes grew soft and he smiled. “Please?”

With a sigh she shifted closer, her tail swaying with an elegant fluidity. Her voice, when it finally graced the air, was hauntingly beautiful—a melody that seemed to bridge the gap between the human world and the mysteries of the sea. The lyrics spoke of lost homes and forgotten dreams, of endless depths and aching hearts. It was a song of longing and solitude, a mournful tale that seemed to capture the very essence of her existence.

As she sang, Joel's fingers moved deftly across the strings of his guitar, weaving his own notes into the fabric of her song. The cave's quiet embrace amplified the sound of his guitar, each note resonating against the walls. The music swirled around them, an unspoken conversation between two souls who had found an unexpected connection.

He watched her, the soft glow of the cave reflecting in her eyes as she sang. Her voice carried a weight that tugged at his heart, stirring emotions he had long kept buried.

Without thinking, Joel's voice joined hers, his rough yet tender tones intertwining with her song. As their voices merged, the cave seemed to come alive, the walls reverberating with the bittersweet harmony of their duet.

In the midst of the music, a memory began to surface—the melody she sang felt achingly familiar. He strummed the guitar with increasing fervor, his fingers dancing across the strings as he tried to match the rhythm of her song.

And then it hit him—the realization that sent a shiver down his spine.

It was her.

The sound that accompanied him every night.

The sound that kept him sane.

The sound that made him feel less alone. Less broken.

The sound of an old friend.

It was her. It had always been her.

Joel suddenly stopped, his eyes wide and lips agape as he just. . .stared at her. She was lost in her song, only noticing the loss of the soulful sound of the guitar moments later. Joel watched her blink with confusion, on edge, thanks to his gaze. “It’s you,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re the song.”

“I’m. . .what?”

Wanting her to understand as soon as possible, Joel began humming the melody every part of him had grown accustomed to. He went on until her features shifted from confusion to recognition, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

“You heard me?” she whispered.

“I did,” he swallowed. “Every night.”

Joel didn’t waste any more time. He held her gently by the neck, feeling her pulse as he crashed their lips together. He licked himself deep into her mouth and tasted the sea on her tongue. Her hands limply pawed his chest, bunching his shirt between delicate fingers.

Her moans were even more beautiful than her song.

He couldn’t get enough of it. His mouth devoured her, eating her alive with every fat swipe of his tongue. Her moans were swallowed by him. She was pliant, body trembling against his, desperate in the way she allowed herself to be consumed. Her breath stuttered as he cupped her breasts, the scale that covered them slowly sinking into her skin, leaving her bare to his tongue.

Joel wanted no time in lowering himself, sucking the pebbled flesh between his lips. He swirled his tongue and nipped her with sharp teeth. She thread her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer. Joel looked at her between heavy lashes. Her breathing was frantic, her heart like a hummingbird’s in her chest. He pushed her tits together, dragged his tongue quickly from one swollen nipple to the other, she threw her head back with a wanton moan, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

He felt the sting of her nails on his shoulders. Her trails thrashed against the calm waters and his one hand slid down to where the scales began. Joel never felt them properly before. He cupped the area where her ass would be if she were human, the pads of his finger digging into her flesh. She seemed to enjoy that. Her body shuddered, her scales growing wetter by the second.

Joel parted from her chest with a pop, his lips were damp and a string of saliva followed him. “How does this work?” he asked, voice nothing but gravel.

Still in a haze, she blinked. Confused. A smug smile tugged at his lips, pride, and cock swelling simultaneously. Finally, when she understood, she took his hand and led it down to her front. Joel didn’t look. He wanted to memorize her face instead, engraving every part of her into memory. As he was preoccupied, he felt it, an opening similar to a human woman’s. She still held her wrist while he explored. He traced the lips, the wetness between them.

Her eyes rolled back when he brushed against the crown of her cunt, a throbbing pearl hidden. “Joel,” she breathed. “Again, please.”

He nuzzled her neck and laid a kiss. “You’re not that different from your human counterpart it seems,” he murmured, goosebumps rising where his lips touched. “I want to eat this pretty cunt out, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”

She nodded hazily, eyes clouded by lust. Joel splayed her over the shore, the bottom half of her tail still lazily moving under the water. He didn’t care about getting wet. Moving down, he straddled her and looked down.

The breath got knocked out of him.

Her hands were on each side of her head above the gravel, her chest raising up and down heavily as she looked up at him, gaze half-lidded. Joel’s gaze traveled lower. Just like he imagined, there was an opening a bit lower from where her tail started. The gaps between the scales had become almost non-existing, accommodating the perfect cunt that’d blossomed for him. It was wet. Glistening. He went down on his elbows, his mouth watering at the sight of it trembling.

“So pretty,” he rasped. “Gonna fuckin’ devour you, honey.”

He pressed his lips hungrily, tongue delving between her folds and tasting her from within. He didn’t separate as he moved his jaw. Her cunt fluttered and squeezed his tongue, begging him for more. Joel obliged, dragging his mouth up and down and purposefully bumping her clit with the curve of his nose.

She was so darn wet. Soaked. He heard whimpers of his name but he was too far gone to grace the pleas with a response. Joel closed his lips around her clit and sucked, applying pressure with a pointed tongue. His fingers joined in on the fun, he pushed them in knuckle deep, scissoring them as he drew circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves.

“That’s it,” he hummed, his breath warm against her core. “Fall apart for me, sweet temptress.”

It was too much, too fast.

His tongue was merciless, his words like a honeyed poison. Your mind was nothing but a haze. The world around you is left spinning. You didn’t remember the last time someone had you like this, so hungry and desperate. All you could do was beg for more. His fingers were thick and long inside of you, pressing harder and harder until he reached the spot that made you see stars.

It didn’t take you long after that. His tongue flat over your clit, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your scales practically vibrating in answer to the strokes of his mouth.

His hand moved to the side of your face as he increased the pressure with his tongue, making you moan and thrust your hips against him. Your body was his to control and it responded eagerly to each touch, kiss, and lick. As his lips pressed harder and deeper, his mouth moving sloppily, your breathing began to quicken, your heart pounding in your ears amidst the sound of the waves lapping against your tail.

He moaned into your pussy, your ears narrowed on the sound, forgetting all else. Feeling your slick becoming heavy on his tongue, he repeated the sound and your chest heaved, beasts tingling. You could feel your entire body tensing up, your fingers gripping his wet hair for leverage as you shuddered and exploded in his arms. Your muscles tightened and quaked against him as his jaw and tongue continued their wicked work until finally, mercifully, you were released and slipped off the edge into the depths of rapturous bliss. A squirt of wetness soaked them both, filling his mouth and making a mess of his plump lips.

Your world stilled and your eyes rolled back in your head as you lay there in his arms, savoring every second of nirvana that his tongue had so generously gifted to you. He didn’t stop until you were tugging at his hair. Joel did so with a soft growl, his gaze dark as he faced you, a wicked hunger still clouding his eyes. His hair still tight between your fingers, he parted his lips, and a string of saliva fell in a vicious drip from his tongue. You shuddered. Never breaking his gaze, he delved his fingers between the delicate folds and spread the mess he made. Debouched, was the only this you were able to think about.

This man was every bit of hungry as you were.

“Joel,” you whined upon feeling your arousal rapidly building between your legs once more. “I want to feel you.” you swallowed. “Want your cock.”

“Say that again, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Convince me how bad you want it.”

You weren't sure what to do, but you humored him anyway. Crunching up, you met him halfway in a wet kiss. “I want you to split me into two, Joel,” you whispered into his lips. “Want to feel the stretch of your cock. Want to feel that it’s real. I want you to fuck me so good that you’ll be spilling out of me as you take me again,” you dragged your lips down his throat. He was shaking. “Again,” a kiss. “And again. . .”

“Fuck,” he moaned. “So filthy for such a pretty thing.”

“Joel,” you whispered, ignoring him. You cupped his cock through his jeans and began to stroke him. His forehead fell to your shoulder, hips canting shallowly into your wanting palm. “Prove to me that humans can fuck just as well.”

You’re not sure what it was—Jealousy? Pride? Whatever you said that got under his skin, you were glad.

Joel pinned you to the gravel, his rough hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist. He stroked where the scales began, sending tremors and tingles up your body. He freed himself of his belt with one skilled hand and pulled out his cock. The tip glistened, precome still oozing from the tip. Your mouth watered. For a human, he was rather blessed. He eagerly stroked himself over you, his cock jutting from his fist. You warmed at the sight, slick wetting the inside of your thighs and adding to the mess. You couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly erotic about a man fucking his fist. It felt so primal. So instinctive about it.

He pushed into you with a clipped groan, the movement almost punishing. Your insides clenched and all the air in your lungs seemed to desert you by the force of the thrust. Looking down at you, Joel smiled. The curl of his lips menacing and taunting. He pulled back agonizingly slow before he was rutting back into your spasming hole. You let out a sound between a hiss and a moan. His glee only seemed to heighten when you held on to his biceps, grounding yourself against the rock of his hips.

“What’d you say, sweetheart?” he said, tone laced with venom. You were in a thick haze of lust, your mind finding trouble understanding his words. When you couldn’t answer, he slammed harder into the tight fist of your cunt. Your body drooled all over him and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Can humans fuck?” he said cruelly.

Your mind was scattered. Especially when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh. His fingers began to move down your tail where the scales were most sensitive. Joel didn’t know this. As he skimmed a line back up with blunt nails, he was taken aback to feel you gripping him tight, slickness flowing from you like a broken fountain.

Your lungs burned. Your body nothing for of aflame. A strangled moan left him, the tightness of your cunt forcing him to slow. “Holy shit,” he moaned, jaw slack. “What the fuck—” His eyes went to meet yours only to find you hidden under your hands. An adorning smile grazed his face. “Hey, look at me,” he said and rolled his hips as an incentive. A short breath parted your lips. You lowered your hands, eyes tearing as you met his gaze. “Why so embarrassed darlin’? That was fuckin’ hot.”

You didn’t answer. Not enjoying your silence, Joel again grazed your scales with his nails. He nearly came when you squeezed around him again, forcing the hitch of his breath. “You like when I do that?” he murmured.

“Y-Yeah,” you answered. “They become sensitive during intercourse.”

“Interestin’,” he hummed, looking down to where his cock was still buried deep. Keeping your hips pinned, he pulled out and grinded his cock over your tail instead. Your eyes grew wide from where it was glued. He made a delicious mess of the scales, slick and precome staining the vibrant blue and gray. Pleasure rippled across your tail and your brows furrowed, your expression melting in bliss.

“I could stare at your face forever,” he muttered. “I don’t think I ever seen such a fucked out expression.”

Heat gathered under your cheeks but honestly, you couldn’t really focus on it. Joel slipped back inside of you, despite how wet you were, you could still feel him stretching you wide. And with every wild thrust, he managed to get deeper and deeper. His cock pulsed, fingers now a constant pressure on your sensitive tail, “Gonna come,” he moaned, eyelids fluttering. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close until you felt the entirety of the man’s weight.

You wanted to feel him dripping out of you and you made your message clear by holding him in place. He was vocal where his face was buried in your neck. Tongue and teeth abusing the skin. His movements were rapid, the sound of skin against skin echoed, cock pressing hard into your heat. He fucked you until he stole his third orgasm from you, it felt like a jolt of electricity, your slick coating his length and dripping down. It was so overwhelming that you bit where his neck met his shoulder. You ignored the fact that this marked him as yours, and that the mark of a mermaid would last for weeks.

Joel didn’t mind the pain. In fact, it spurred him on. He whined into your skin, hammering until he spilled into you, filling you until it was spilling from where he was stretching you. The way you fluttered and clenched was too much for him, he fucked his come back into you, hearing it make those sloppy wet gushing noises against his hips. He drove his hips forward until there was nothing left of him. His moans bounced off of clenched teeth.

And when your arms fell back to the gravel, limp with pleasure, he stopped.

You sighed happily at the touch of his lips over your heated skin. He kissed a trail down to your breasts, kissing each one, his softening cock slipped out of you and he went lower. Kisses and licks on your stomach and lastly one placed on your trembling mound.

Your hands hastily pulled him back up for a long, lazy kiss. It was full of emotion, each swipe of your tongue conveying something else. Gratitude, pleasure, love.

“You’re healed aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Yes.”

A beat of silence.

“Now what?”

“Now,” you sigh. “I leave.” A humorless, bitter chuckle left your lips. “But I really don’t want to.”

He answered almost immediately, “Then don’t.”

Joel pulled back to look at you, his gaze warm like the sun dancing above waves. You let out a sigh. Just like the sun, the look was also blinding. “I can’t live in this cave forever.”

His brows drew together with confusion and you worried that perhaps you accidentally said something else. He shook his head, “Who said anythin’ about livin’ in this cave?” Joel’s lips curled in amusement in answer to your shocked expression. “You were already livin’ close to the lighthouse, weren’t you? You can come and visit. And I can visit the shores more often, As long as you’re not on the other side of the sea, we can be together.”

He looked at you expectantly, and when your silence grew, so did his doubts. “Right?” he asked.

“Right,” you repeated. You giggled at his relieved expression and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t know why I just assumed I’d have to live here. Like some sort of weird prison.”

“Hmmm,” Joel smiled dragging his nose down from your temple to your cheek. He pulled you close and you laid your head over the expanse of his chest. “I guess I just fucked you that good.”

“Don’t get so full of yourself. I was just taken by surprise.”

“Sure, honey,” he answered, smile widening into a grin. “Whatever you say so.”

(i made this moodboard before fanna's stunning bday gift to me which is the gif above but I adore this mood board so I decided to put it here thank you for reading xx)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x mermaid!reader #mermaid!reader #mermaid au #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

thecupidwitch · 12 days

Text

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

#thecupidwitch #witchcraft #witchblr #witchcore #witch community #witches #witch #grimoire #book of shadows #baby witch #beginner witch #witchy #pegan #peganism #chaos witch #magic #magick

233 notes · View notes

widodiangelo · 2 months

Text

Technically, they weren’t supposed to be in each other's cabins.

But after fighting in two wars in the last two years, Chiron had decided to let some things slide. And so the Poseidon cabin became the go-to meeting place for the older campers: mostly the seven and company.

As a result, the cabin had slowly begun accumulating various comfort items and was morphing into a strange college dorm room-thrift shop hybrid. There was an old, peeling leather couch Jason and Leo had dragged out of the big house a few weeks ago, surrounded by random folding chairs and an assortment of beanbags Nico had totally not shadow traveled in from an ikea in the city. There were two and a half mini fridges (two working, one broken), a strange assortment of video game consoles the stoll brothers had provided and quite a few puzzles.

Since he and Nico had started dating, Will found himself hanging out in Percy’s makeshift common room more and more. That evening, he had just finished a sing-along session with his siblings at the campfire and was making his way across camp to the cabins. The warm summer air was filled with the smells of campfire smoke and sea salt drifting from the shore. A calm smile on his face, Will strolled up to cabin three with an extra s’more in his hand.

The interior was lit up with fairy lights and a blue lamp in the corner: cozy and inviting. Leo and Piper sat in some beanbags, playing some sort of card game. Jason and Percy lounged on the couch, throwing blue jelly beans into each other’s mouths (or at least tried to) while they yelled at the video game on the large tv screen that sat on the floor, leaning against the far wall because someone had forgotten to steal a stand. Nico perched on the edge of a crusty armchair, a controller in his hands and gaze focused on the screen before him.

Will stepped through the door with a soft wave, which Annabeth returned with one hand from where she was braiding back Nico’s hair as he played. Jason popped a jelly bean in his mouth as Will sat down at Nico’s side. “Holy shit. Nico, you’re sub 6 minutes and you’re already at Lernie? What even is this build?”

Nico smirked, not taking his eyes off the game, but leaning into his boyfriend as a hand carded around his waist. “I told you Grace, Beo is bugged on mirage shot. It’s totally OP.”

Percy tried to catch the blue projectile Jason tossed at him, almost falling off the couch in the process. “Yeah but even with the bug I’ve never been able to make use of hunter’s mark like this before. How are you even doing that?”

Nico shrugged, the silver chains that dangled from his ears glinted in the moonlight. “Practice.” He replied, taking down a hydra head in one blow.

Will took a bite of his s’more and squinted at the screen. “What even is this?”

“Hades.” All three boys replied, and Annabeth snorted. “It’s a Greek mythology game.” She supplied with a roll of her eyes. “Nico’s the main character.”

“I am not the main character.” Nico retorted, eyes never leaving the screen. He mumbled under his breath as the screen shifted, “fuck stupid room 34 witches. Dammit.”

Percy tilted his head in thought. “Actually Nico, you kinda are. I mean Zag is the son of Hades, his main weapon is a sword, you both look like you belong in a hot topic ad–”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

“I said what I said– oh shit smoldering air? No way!”

Jason almost choked on his food. “Dude you’re gonna go sub ten at this rate.”

Will glanced at Annabeth. “Do they always sound like they’re speaking ancient greek when they play this game?”

Annabeth pulled the hair tie around her wrist off with her teeth. “Yup. Hate to break it to you, your boyfriend’s a nerd.”

Nico scowled. “Am not.”

Will pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Oh you totally are.”

“Listen Solace– HA! 9:58!” Nico jumped up and tossed the controller on the floor in victory, flicking off the animated Hades he had just defeated. “Get fucked, dad.”

Will watched him fondly. “Of course you would be good at the greek mythology video game where you get to kill your father.”

Nico dropped back down on the chair and slipped into Will’s side, taking the s’more his boyfriend offered him with a grin. “I’m nothing if not on brand.”

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #nico di angelo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #will solace #solangelo

195 notes · View notes

sk-lumen · 5 months

Text

How to declutter for a fresh New Year 🫧

The very first time I got into the spirit of minimalism and decluttering physically, mentally and emotionally, it was challenging as I still had a lot of resistance and attachment to things.

I started this during winter many years back, and it's becoming easier and easier. Not just as a great practice before the new year, but also as a habit throughout the year or whenever I feel like it.

When I started seeing how the mental load, the brain fog and distraction and worry... shifted into peace, relief, joy and mental clarity every time I let go of things, I understood why it's important to not be a hoarder. Physically or otherwise. (Of course this has nuance to it and it can be a privilege to be able to do it, but that's for a different topic.)

Here are ways you can start the new year fresh (or just clear the energy any time you need):

Online / social media

delete old files or photos you don't need from your devices or cloud

unfollow accounts on social media that don't inspire/uplift you

delete old messages

archive or delete conversations you no longer want to see

block or delete numbers that are affecting your mental health

Home

throw away things that are broken or falling apart (clothes, items, lingerie, etc)

donate or sell clothes you no longer use or want

sell items you don't use anymore but which are perfectly functional (hair straightener, lamp, etc)

throw away or repurpose gift bags, bags, cards

put away items you still need but are not using in this particular season - ie. put away into storage any winter clothing during summer, it's just cluttering your hangers

reorganize your home, your room, your bathroom, move furniture around or replace decor to give it a fresh exciting new feel and remove any stale energies

Physically

salt bath with essential oils to release any tension or toxins

lemon water, ginger and turmeric shots for cleansing

drink plenty of water or green tea or mint tea for improved digestion

Mentally

dedicate a journal to write down tasks, lists, to vent any negativity, or just thought-dump at the end of the day in order to feel lighter and clear-headed

have a calendar or agenda to note any important things, to lighten the mental load

say things that keep bothering you for days/weeks, do things you've been antsy to get done for days/weeks

Emotionally

journaling is an amazing way to offload emotionally

going to therapy

talking to a friend or family

cultivating healthy boundaries and communicating your needs

Spiritually

do a guided meditation to clear your head

spend time in nature, in the forest, by the sea, away from noise and crowds to clear your energy

you can also use crystals like crystal quartz to cleanse your aura

#new year #girblogging #becoming that girl #that girl #pink pilates princess #clean girl #growth mindset #new year resolutions #articles #writings #self improvement #mental health

232 notes · View notes

hero-israel · 4 months

Note

So I've seen a lot of talk from people who allow that Israel was justified to attack Gaza after October 7th, but they feel that Israel still attacked too indiscriminately, killed too many Palestinians, and destroyed too much of Gaza. Two particular hangups I've seen most commonly are the idea that Israel should have done a "tactical counter-terrorism" action rather than a ground invasion, and a specific objection to Israel dropping 2000 pound bombs on Gaza specifically. I don't feel that I know enough about military tactics, so I don't know how legitimate it would have been for Israel to go into Gaza "tactically" or to drop smaller bombs, but I suspect Hamas would be a lot stronger than it is currently, and the same people would still be tut-tutting Israel's actions (if not calling them out with equal outrage). It's very frustrating

Everyone wants a better alternative but nobody describes what it is. Reminds me of the recent post about the Houthis - "don't bomb them, you need to find a way to get rid of the Red Sea embargo that only kills the badguys and nobody else." Okay, I'll just ask the genie of the lamp to magic them away. There are no options for going into Gaza that aren't utterly horrible. Hamas knows this, it was the whole point of their trap, and it is working.

Here's a fair-minded, moving essay by a Gazan Palestinian saying Israel needs "targeted, low-intensity, long-term operation[s] that could sustainably reduce Hamas’ military capabilities and create conditions to introduce a new administration in Gaza," and also admitting "tunnel warfare is dirty, complicated, costly and requires lengthy efforts and campaigns, not the short and swift operations upon which Israel’s military doctrine is built."

IOW, "go in and kill Hamas and destroy everything they have - but don't kill anybody else. Find a way to do it slower and smaller and neater, but still make sure you win."

It doesn't work that way. The tunnels are obviously boobytrapped, how are you supposed to order men in? The problem isn't expense, the problem is failure. Also a slow, prolonged ground campaign would require a lasting re-occupation, another lose-lose. Israel has purportedly been using the 2,000 pound bombs as bunker-busters to collapse the tunnels - maybe that's working, but it also kills the hell out of people on the surface, again part of the trap. I am disappointed that the IDF hadn't spent every waking hour the last decade building some technical gizmo that could make the tunnels uninhabitable, some kind of seismic or ultrasonic whatzit. I said a while back that I was in favor of flooding the tunnels and fixing the environmental consequences later. I've got messages in my inbox now urging me not to take that stance, that Israel should not be seen as "salting the earth," but it doesn't matter since it seems Israel isn't actually doing it, for whatever reason, so there's no point in a Tumblr blog taking a stance either way.

Tom Friedman is another useless Boomer leftover from the '90s and his "philosophy-of-cab-drivers" shtick is laughable, but he actually raised a good point here:

Netanyahu, I would argue, doesn’t want to win. He wants to be winning, OK, that is, he wants to be able to say, we’re winning. We’re winning. We’re winning. It’s just around the corner. But he doesn’t want to actually win because, if the war actually ends, two things are going to happen. Then he can no longer avoid what is the new political end state. And I believe there will be an eruption, a massive eruption, of Israeli anger at him that I hope and pray will drive him from power because I believe he is not only the worst leader in Israel’s history. I believe he’s the worst leader in Jewish history.

And that’s a long history. And what is Netanyahu’s calculation? It’s very simple. If he is not in power and has to face the conclusion of his trial and three corruption charges without the protection and influence that comes over the judiciary from being in power, he has a very good chance of going to jail. People forget. Israel jailed a president and a former prime minister. They’re not afraid to do that. And he does not want to go to jail. And he does not want to give up power.

And so this is a terrible situation where Israel is in a existential war, and its prime minister has basically dual loyalties, one to the state and one to himself. And at every turn, he is prioritizing himself.

I wish I could totally rule out the possibility that Netanyahu is going to try to drag this out until Trump's inauguration next year. I can't.

109 notes · View notes

e-dubbc11 · 2 months

Text

Chocolate Kisses

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: I bet you can’t guess🤣…fluffy bunnies and unicorns, overworked Billy, maybe a swear word? I’m not sure. Alluding to smexy time 😉

Word Count: 1.5K-ish

Summary: Billy’s grouchy, he’s overworked and needs a little break. You’re hoping a little something sweet will lighten his mood.

A/N: I’m sure if you’ve been following me for awhile, you know one of my Billy headcanons is that he has a massive sweet tooth. This little idea popped into my head, figured I’d run with it. I hope you like it 🩵

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Inside his home office, with his head buried deep in paperwork, Billy groaned and grumbled periodically as he carefully thumbed through the papers on his desk. Glancing from the printed pages to the computer screens, he narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. He was hard at work as always.

The office lights were dim and the warm glow from the desk lamp was easier on his eyes compared to the monitors he constantly stared at for hours on end. The work was just never finished sometimes, it followed him home, and Billy could never leave his work incomplete or what HE felt was incomplete.

That was the perfectionist in him.

The work kept coming in and he was always very busy but he loved it. He loved working, running his own company, and he was proud of the work he was doing. Billy wanted to have a purpose in life after being in the marines and with all of his hard work, life presented him with a great opportunity for himself and for others.

But sometimes you wanted him to slow down and enjoy the little things. You knew Billy had been working hard all day and mentioned he had more to do even after he came home for the evening so as a surprise, you strategically placed a piece of his favorite candy in the top center drawer of his desk. He never could resist those dark chocolate squares with the creamy caramel and a hint of sea salt inside. They were one of his favorites and you couldn’t wait for him to find it.

You could tell how busy he was just by how he answered the phone this afternoon. The tone of his voice was sharp, he gave you short one word responses, which led to a very quick apology when he realized he was taking his frustration out on you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Billy had said, gently. “Seems like everyone wants an answer from me at the same time, I’m just swamped.”

One corner of your mouth turned up into a half smile and you forgave him immediately. When you’re constantly bombarded with questions that demand answers, it wears on you, and you could only take so much.

You appreciated that Billy recognized he was taking his anger out on you because he didn’t always stop to think about how he was acting. Through trial and error, sometimes he had to learn the hard way about what it means to be in an actual relationship.

“I love you Billy Russo but don’t you dare take your bad day out on me.” You had to tell him on more than one occasion.

Up until he met you, Billy had lived his life the only way he knew how. He had always been in a constant state of survival mode, not knowing what it was like to be cared for and loved by anyone but you were patient with him and he learned quickly but still, he wasn’t perfect. And you didn’t expect him to be but he did need reminders to sneak in some play along with the work.

He continued to growl over the papers on his desk while you crept into his office to put some of your books away when you heard him open the center drawer to his desk. Biting back a smile, you could hear the noise the shiny blue foil paper made while in between his long agile fingers and the slight chuckle that escaped his lips.

You heard the sound of a pen fall onto a stack of papers as he reached for the other side of chocolate wrapper and out of the corner of your eye, you could see the childlike smile stretch across Billy’s lips as he removed the chocolate from its package.

He had finally taken a minute to breathe.

Just from one little square of chocolate, you watched the stress of Billy’s day float away as soon as he took that first bite. Growing up, he was lucky if he even got cheap penny candy at the group home let alone decadent dark chocolate. He savored every bite, tasted every note of that bittersweet chocolate and smooth buttery caramel.

Billy knew what it was like to have nothing. It was why he took such good care of everything he had now…his penthouse, his company, and…you. He knew it could all be taken away just as quickly as he acquired it and his delicious chocolate was no different.

“Was that from you, sweet girl?” Billy asked rhetorically with a wide Cheshire cat smile.

You loved to see the laugh lines around his beautiful onyx colored eyes every time he smiled at you. Nothing made you happier than to see Billy Russo smile.

Gripping your book tightly across your chest and still biting down on your lower lip, you nodded.

“Mmm hmm.” You finally replied. “You seemed like you were having a tough day. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

Billy pushed back away from his desk, tasted the chocolate that remained on his thumb, and slowly walked over to you. His hands cupped your cheeks as he tilted your face up so he could look into your eyes before his lips collided with yours.

The taste of rich cocoa was still fresh on his tongue and the essence of sweet burnt sugar on his lips left you wanting to do nothing BUT taste him over and over again.

“It was a very nice surprise, my love. But chocolate or no chocolate, my day is always better when I come home to you.” Billy purred into your ear.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as butterflies danced around in your stomach. His words made your heart flutter as he quickly pulled you into his chest, stroked your hair with his long nimble fingers, and told you over and over again how much he loved you.

“You always know when I need a break don’t you, y/n.” He said with a warm smile.

After putting your last book away, you snaked your arms around Billy’s neck and pulled his face close so his forehead was touching yours.

“Well Billy…you can be a little bit of a grouch when you’ve done nothing but work for 14 plus hours.” You replied, looking up at him through your long dark lashes.

“You think I work too much, baby?” Billy asked in a serious tone.

You started to nervously play with the buttons on his shirt, the fabric felt cool on the tips of your fingers and when you placed your hand against his chest, you could feel the rapid beating of his heart and all you had wanted to do was to put his fears to rest.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Billy. I just want you to take more breaks, that’s all.” You said in barely more than a whisper and with your eyes locked on his. “Besides…I know you can’t say no to sweets.”

Billy let out a slight chuckle. It made him love you even more because you could make him laugh and the sound of his laughter was music to your ears.

“You know me too well, beautiful. I promise to take more breaks. Now, ya don’t happen to have any more of that chocolate, do ya?” He asked as he licked his bottom lip.

Something about the way he asked for more, the velvet tone to his voice was so smooth and sexy, and his New York accent turned you on no matter what he was talking about.

You traced one finger along his jawline then turned and started to walk away from him toward the office door before your replied, “Tell ya what, lieutenant…if you can catch me, you can have another piece.”

“Are we still talking about chocolate, sweet girl?” Billy asked with a devilish smile.

Looking back over your shoulder, you replied, “Catch me and find out, Mr. Russo.”

And you took off running out of the office with Billy following close behind. He was too fast so he caught you easily, tossed you over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom.

“BILLY! Put me down! You can have all the chocolate you want!” You said in between laughs.

Billy gently smacked you on the ass before he replied, “Oh I will my love, but first I’m in the mood for something else that tastes even sweeter than chocolate.”

He loved all things sweet…especially you.

There was something so innocent and pure about the way he reacted to something as small as a piece of chocolate or the toy army man you gave him for his desk to the grander gestures of telling him “I love you” and finding him a first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray. He loved them all the same.

He treasured them, and kept them as close as he possibly could because they all came from someone who wanted him, who loved him more than anything, and who would never ever leave him.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @russosafehaven

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo fanfiction

75 notes · View notes

probablyasocialecologist · 2 months

Text

Aesthetic sensibilities are deeply subjective, and hard to acknowledge and analyse clearly. They take root in us from the moment we’re born. They bind us to a particular view of the landscape, something we begin to think of as ‘natural’ or, at least, benign. What we see as children, particularly where we grow up, becomes what we want to continue to see, and what we want our children to see. Nostalgia, and the sense of security that nostalgia brings, binds us to the familiar. We are persuaded, too, by our own absorption in this aesthetic that what we are seeing has been here for ever. We believe the countryside around us, or something very similar to it, has persisted for centuries and the wildlife within it, if not exactly the same, is at least a fair representation of what has been here for centuries. But the ecological processes of the past are hard for the layman – and often even conservation professionals – to grasp.

We are blinded by the immediacy of the present. We look at the landscape and see what is there, not what is missing. And if we do appreciate some sort of ecological loss and change, we tend to go only as far back as our childhood memories, or the memories of our parents or grandparents who tell us ‘there used to be hundreds of lapwings in my day’, ‘skylarks and song thrushes were ten-a-penny’, ‘the fields round here used to be red with poppies and blue with cornflowers’, ‘cod was the poor man’s fish when I was a nipper’. We are blind to the fact that in our grandparents’ grandparents’ day there would have been species-rich wildflower meadows in every parish and coppice woods teeming with butterflies. They would have heard corncrakes and bitterns, seen clouds of turtle doves, thousands of lapwings and hundreds more skylarks. A mere four generations ago they knew rivers swimming with burbot – now extinct in Britain – and eels, and their summer nights were peppered with bats and moths and glow-worms. Their grandparents, in turn, saw nightjars settling on dusty country lanes and even hawking for moths around the street lamps in towns, and spotted flycatchers in every orchard, and meadow pipits everywhere from salt-flats to the crowns of mountains. They saw banks of giant cod and migrating tuna in British waters. They saw our muddy North Sea clear as gin, filtered by oyster beds as large as Wales. And their grandparents, in turn, living at the time of the last beaver in Britain, would have known great bustards, and watched shoals of herring five miles long and three miles broad migrating within sight of the shore, chased by schools of dolphins and sperm whales and the occasional great white shark. We don’t have to look too deeply into the history books, into contemporary accounts, for scenes dramatically different to our own to be normal. Yet we live in denial of these catastrophic losses.

Isabella Tree, Wilding: The Return of Nature to a British Farm

#Wilding #ecology #biodiversity #Shifting Baseline Syndrome

62 notes · View notes

sk-hpsb · 12 days

Text

Cleansing Negativity: The Power of the Himalayan Salt Lamp

In our fast-paced, technology-driven world, maintaining a positive and tranquil environment can be challenging. One way to counteract the stress and negativity that often pervade our lives is by incorporating a Himalayan salt lamp into our homes or workplaces. These unique and aesthetically pleasing lamps are not just a decorative piece; they are believed to offer a range of benefits, particularly in cleansing negativity from our surroundings.

Benefits of Himalayan Salt Lamps:

Enhance Mood: Himalayan salt lamps generate negative ions, similar to those found in natural environments like waterfalls and beaches. These ions can boost your mood and promote a sense of well-being.

Allergy Relief: By reducing airborne particles, Himalayan salt lamps can alleviate symptoms for those suffering from allergies or asthma.

Natural Beauty: Each Himalayan salt lamp is unique, offering a distinctive, organic look that enhances any room's décor. The warm glow adds a touch of serenity and charm to your space.

Stress Reduction: The serene light and natural presence of the salt lamp can help reduce stress and anxiety, providing a peaceful ambiance for meditation, yoga, or simply unwinding after a long day.

How to Use Your Himalayan Salt Lamp:

Placement: Place your lamp in areas where you spend a lot of time, such as your bedroom, living room, or workspace, to maximize its benefits.

Regular Use: Keep the lamp on for several hours each day to maintain a consistent flow of negative ions and ensure ongoing air purification.

Maintenance: Occasionally wipe the lamp with a damp cloth to remove any dust or particles that may have accumulated.

#himalayanpinksalt #pink salt lamp #salt and light #sea salt #pink salt bricks

0 notes

64yrsold · 9 months

Text

ACHES 28. honeymoon

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (27)

a/n: hi it's me :-) this is the final part of aches. thank you for letting me write this. thank you for being here to read it. i started writing this back in february, and spent all summer thinking about it. it's been so much fun, and so much work to think about all of these feelings all the time. hard to read too i'm sure lmfao. if you have questions about aches send me an ask :-) i will answer them all honestly now lmao. i love love writing for you, and i hope you'll be here for the next one! (it's gonna be sweet i'm sure.) thank you again.

“Who was it?” I asked, finding him slumped over his guitar in the living room. My face was still wet, salt drying on my cheekbones.

He shrugged, “Nobody.”

“Do I know her?” I felt as if I was standing before the sea, my ankles submerged in sand and the pulsing waves. He was far, far away. He could have been a siren, or a beam of light. It would be exhausting to swim to him either way.

He shook his head, staring at the floor. His eyelids fluttered, his cheeks looked warm.

I let out a thin breath, “Who was it, Matty?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he glowered at the hardwood. “I don’t give a fuck about her. I never wanted anything to happen.”

“Alright,” I mumbled. I didn’t have the energy to pry the information from him. I didn’t want to know, anyways.

“I wasn’t interested in her. I was just,” he clasped his hands together, “I was just missing you.”

“Okay,” I said. I didn’t believe him, or trust him, or understand what he was saying. I opened a bottle of wine, filling a glass. He wandered into the kitchen, sitting at the island. He watched me from the corner of his eye, eyes flitting to his hands when I looked in his direction.

I couldn't slow my heart.

I sat beside him, tilting my glass until it was empty. I filled it again. He picked up the bottle suddenly, throwing his head back and guzzling. I blinked, watching him empty the bottle down his throat.

“Half a bottle each is fair, don’t you think?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I stifled a smile, my chest still feeling empty. My heart echoed weakly in the hollow of it.

He reached his hand across the counter, covering mine.

“Let’s go for a walk, sweetheart.”

I followed him quietly, the summer evening quickly slipping into a heavy night. It was humid, and the air stuck to my skin.

“You know where we’re going, don’t you?” He murmured. His heels scratched into the pavement. I nodded, the orange street lamps passing over us. He turned into the park, our hands twisted together. He sat on our bench, pulling me onto his lap. I leaned into him.

“I trusted you from the moment I met you,” I whispered. “You were a little shy at first.”

He smiled, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

“I needed you,” I sighed. “I still need you.”

“I know,” he kissed my cheek gently.

“You can’t leave me,” I said, realizing I was begging. “I can’t do it alone.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he shook his head, bringing his forehead to mine. “Never.”

“I don’t mean just physically,” I held his wrist. His palm was pressed to my thready pulse in my neck. “You can’t check out on me.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I won’t.”

I swallowed, “It was Jenna, right?”

He pulled back, and I saw the guilt swimming in his eyes.

“She kissed you?” A hot tear fell from my cheek, sliding down my neck. He nodded. I dropped my head to his shoulder.

“It was after I…” he trailed off, voice thick and rocky. I knew what he meant. “I just wanted you back. She’s your only friend, I–” He choked, taking a breath. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Ask what?”

“If you were okay,” he mumbled. “To ask how long you had been this sad.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she hadn't seen you,” he picked at his cuticle. He shook his head, “She’s a shit friend, sweetheart.”

“So you kissed her?” I tried not to scream it. “I don’t get it.”

“I was drunk, and I asked her if she thought I deserved you,” he looked at me, heart spilling out of his wrists. “She said she didn’t know.”

I nodded. He frowned and sighed, agitated.

“And why the fuck would she know?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I know you. I know us. It’s my fault, I neglected you, I assumed you would be alright, I asked you to marry me and then fucked off overseas for months. It’s my fault. I let you forget how love feels.”

I kissed him. Because I missed him. Because it was worth it, being with him. Because when he was home, he eclipsed the emptiness in my chest. He was everything good.

He kissed me because he loved me, and that was always enough.

“Let’s get married tomorrow,” he cupped my face. “Let’s sign the papers at the courthouse, I don’t care. Just you and me, like it’s always been.”

I could only nod, listening to the crickets cry. The stars crackled above us, far, far, far above us.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Here,” he handed me a ripped page, folded into a tattered square.

“What’s this?” I asked, thumbs pressed into the familiar, soft paper. From his notebook, I was certain.

“Honeymoon gift,” he winked. Then bit his thumbnail, eyelids fluttering.

“Is this my song?” I gasped, unfolding the note.

“It could be,” he sat back on the couch against the armrest, my feet on his lap. “It’s just ideas for now.”

“Couldn’t pick a melody?” I laughed, skimming over the page.

“Couldn’t get it to fucking rhyme.”

I giggled, “Should I read it out loud?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, eyes wide. I waved him off, reading his desperate handwriting. He had written my name, Sweetheart, in careful letters at the top of the page.

When I can’t sleep

I think of you,

Always sleeping

Pulled so quickly to peace

While I seem to

Thrash against the line

I think of you with your eyes closed and jaw slack

With your hair in every direction

With your dreams pulsing through your veins

I remember

Your hand on my back

My mouth, then your mouth

Doubled joys and halved heartaches

Your hand on my back

To remind me that, really, there is nothing behind me

And that – really –

I am completely sane

And I am so glad

That love is nothing at all what I expected

And that I dream of everyone but you.

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #aches

169 notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 4 months

Text

The Underneath | pjm

☾ Pairing: Monster!Jimin x reader (gender neutral)

☾ Summary: “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long

☾ Word Count: 1,777

☾ Genre: Thriller, Horror in theory

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Just general creep vibes. A lot of this happens in the complete dark so if you don’t like descriptions of total darkness or inability to see, this one is not for you. Mentions of being alone, themes of sadness/depression (though not heavy). Jimin is pretty creepy in speaks in an eerie manner and calls reader ‘it’ a lot and refers to himself as ‘Jimin’ in the third person. Overall it’s just a weird one.

☾ Published: February 10, 2024

☾ A/N: Random creepy monster under the bed Jimin for this lovely Saturday morning. I actually was working on this last week when it was storming, which is why it’s giving the cheesy ‘It was a dark and storm night’ vibes lmfaooo. This Jimin is lowkey a little cute in my head cause he’s just this creepy lil monster under the bed who is like :/ I’m tired of you crying mf. This is for my fifth drable of the 100 Drabble Challenge and today I rolled for monster AU. Enjoy!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

“Holy diver, you’ve been down too long in the midnight sea,” you hum, tracing patterns in the condensation on the glass pane. It’s cool to the touch, sending goosebumps down your arm. Your forehead presses against the window, feeling the damp condensation clinging to it as rain beats on the other side. “Oh, what’s becoming of me?”

The tip tap of the rain matches the dappled shadows dancing across the room. The streetlight shining through the window is a weak glow, broken up by the shadow of your hand and the swaying tree branches as they bow under the wind.

Wind batters the house. The home creaks under the pressure of the wind. A crack of lightning dazes you and your eyes flutter, blinking away bursts of colors and stars as you try to adjust to the darkness of your room again. The electricity flickers, a deep-bellied groan of thunder chasing the lightning.

“Gotta get away, Holy Diver.”

You don’t know why that song. It’s the only thing that comes to you in the emptiness that slinks in on the heels of your sadness, a tune fit for thinking of nothing. Feeling nothing. Being nothing.

You don’t even remember the first time you learned the Dio tune.

“Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue,” you mumble, the words catching over themselves as you become unfocused, vision blurring. You’re not really thinking of the song, but your lips move. They sound the words.

Lightning flickers again. This time the power fails, the salt lamp in the corner of your room blinks off and the fan in the corner goes dead. The quiet presses in like a physical thing, smothering you as you lean away from the window, spooked by the darkness that floods both inside and outside.

Spinning away from the window in your computer chair, your eyes scan the darkness. The furniture in your room takes on new forms. The lamp looks like something tall and vicious. The lumps of blankets and pillows on the bed look like bodies. The blank space under your bed looks like… something.

A mouth. A void. A thing.

Still, the song plays in your mind, an empty cycle of words and music that you can’t shut off. “Something is coming for you, look out!”

The back of your neck begins to tingle as your gaze settles on the blank darkness under your bed. Slowly, you claw your way from the depths of an empty mind to acute awareness, blinking away the daze and focusing only on the gap between the floor and the bed.

Like always, a razor-thin awareness carves its way through you, an instinct that something is there. Licking your lips, you squint as though it can help you see in the cloying darkness. Your eyes tell you that nothing is there, but the goosebumps and pins and needles sensation slithering down your spine tells you otherwise.

You don’t remember the first time you had the feeling that there was something under your bed. You just know it’s always happened, a preternatural awareness slipping into your mind and telling you to look.

As a child, you were always too afraid to look. As an adult, you cannot help but look, seeking out whatever lies in the dark, searching for whatever it is that wants to be seen.

There’s a hiss of sound. You cock your head. It isn’t enough sound to hear, exactly, but more like it’s the idea of a sound. Both a noise and nothing at all.

“You can hide in the sun 'til you see the light.” The words drip from your mouth unaccounted for. You don’t know what makes you mumble them still. “Oh, we will pray it's alright.”

There is something on your bed. You know it like you know there is a storm outside. You know it like you know to breathe air or like to blink.

Outside, the rain grows louder. There is no lightning to reveal what sits on your bed, but you stare nonetheless, trying to work out where it begins and ends. You think there is a shadow darker than others, but it’s hard to tell.

It doesn’t occur to you not to be afraid. There is a buzzing in your head making fear temporarily unavailable, like a cellphone too far to be in service.

“Why did it stop singing?” You sit straight in your chair. The voice comes from the direction of your bed, velvet soft and barely there. You strain to hear it over the pounding of the rain. “It has a lovely voice.”

“I… forgot I was singing.”

“It forgets that it is making sound?”

The voice is both one voice and a hundred. It feels as though it echoes in your mind, smoke slipping into your ears and filling your senses. Your daze grows stronger, making your lashes flutter as the whispers skim over your mind and skin like a tangible thing.

It fades after a moment, the silence following the sensation. You blink, staring into the darkness. You’re sure you can see a shadow sitting on your bed now, and though you can’t see eyes, you know it is looking at you.

“I was sad.”

“Was? Is?”

“Was.” You think about it and realize that you aren’t sad anymore. The void that you felt only moments earlier is gone. “Yeah, I was sad. Now I’m not.”

“How does it feel?”

“Better.”

“Good. It should be happy. I want it to be happy.”

“What are you?”

“Does it want to see my face?”

You hesitate. It isn’t fear that makes you pause. No, this thing has been in your room for as long as you can remember, though it’s never spoken to you before. You hesitate because you think you should be afraid and yet…

“I would like to, yes.”

Lightning lances and you flinch. You only see the thing - a person - on your bed for a split second, but it’s enough to memorize some of his features. Dark grey hair, an angular face with delicate cheekbones, an elegant nose that’s rounded at the tip, sensual lips that look pillow-soft and rosy, and siren eyes that could look into your very soul.

It’s the eyes you remember. Sleepy. Seductive. Piercing. Eyes like that are what great poets write about, what musicians make songs about. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you even in the dark, pinning you to your computer chair, your instincts buzzing.

You stare into the dark. The dark stares back, perhaps even more severely than before.

His presence is oppressive, you realize. It’s a physical thing, like a blanket of nettle pressing against you both mentally and physically, an itch you can’t scratch.

“You’re pretty,” you breathe.

“It may call me Jimin.”

“You can call me by my name. I’m not an it.”

Though you cannot see the creature - Jimin - you get the sense he’s smiling as he asks, “You will give me your name freely to use? Names are so powerful.”

“Yes, I’d prefer you to call me by my name.”

Jimin repeats your name back and the way he says it makes you shiver, rich chocolate dripping off of his tongue. Still, despite sitting in the dark and speaking with him in that hissing, purring voice of his, you’re not afraid, though… it feels like you could be. Like the fear is somewhere locked deep inside a mine, unable to find the path out.

“Why are you so sad? You’re always so sad.” The way Jimin asks the questions makes you lean forward. His voice is a soft call, the rise and fall of the tone and the softness of the whisper alluring. “Jimin doesn’t like it when you’re sad.”

“I… feel very alone. People always leave me.”

He hums. “You’re never alone. You know that though, don’t you?” You nod, unsure if Jimin can see you with those sharp, keen eyes. “Jimin has always been here.”

“I… felt you.”

“And you were not afraid?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I feel like I should be.”

Jimin hums and you can hear him move. The bed creeks as he shifts, though you cannot tell what he’s doing. The pressure of the air around you tightens and you think he might be walking toward you.

“You never have to be afraid of Jimin.” You can smell damp clove and petrichor as he approaches. Like darkness. Like rain. “What if Jimin told you there was a place for you where you would never be sad?”

You hesitate. Jimin is somewhere right in front of you. His body doesn’t radiate heat so much as it radiates energy, an otherness about him that is unfamiliar to you. Perhaps like the static that comes with lightning or the pounding of your heart that comes with adrenaline.

“I think I would like that.”

Cold fingers brush your hand. Jimin chuckles when you flinch and gasp. “No need to be afraid of Jimin. Come.”

Jimin tugs you. It’s gentle at first, but when you don’t move, too slow to catch up, it’s urgent. Worried. Hungry. Demanding. Jimin pulls you out of the seat, his grip turning to iron as he drags you across the room.

Though you’ve told him yes, your body reacts differently. You dig your heels in and lean back, tugging your arm. Your thoughts tangle, trying to get your body to follow him the way your mind wants, but it feels like you’re pressing up against bones and muscles that are unfamiliar, like you can’t get them to work. Like they aren’t yours.

You feel confused. Thoughts thick like cotton, you stumble after Jimin, legs locking and unlocking as you fight for the control to follow him. Jimin hums delightfully and pulls you to your knees, his hands on your shoulders as he giggles.

“Jimin will protect you,” he whispers, his breath fanning your face. It’s cloying sweet, freezing you to the spot as your syrupy thoughts turn solid and realize it’s your instincts making you stop. The fear is there at the last moment, shattering through the dizziness to claim you. “No more sad!”

“Wait-”

“To the Underneath we go. It will be with Jimin forever.”

Jimin gives a brutal pull. You feel your body slam to the ground, thoughts splintering as your head hits the wooden floor. The last thing you remember is the drag of your heavy against the floor, the heavy pressure of static on your skin, and Jimin’s haunting voice singing in the dark.

Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue, something is coming for you, look out!

#jimin fic #park jimin fic #jimin bts fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #monster jimin #100 drabble challenge

102 notes · View notes