#the diver's clothes lie empty

[bracketsoffear]

Wax (Gina Damico) "Paraffin, Vermont, is known the world over as home to the Grosholtz Candle Factory. But behind the sunny retail space bursting with overwhelming scents and homemade fudge, seventeen-year-old Poppy Palladino discovers something dark and unsettling: a back room filled with dozens of startlingly life-like wax sculptures, crafted by one very strange old lady. Poppy hightails it home, only to be shocked when one of the figures—a teenage boy who doesn’t seem to know what he is—jumps naked and screaming out of the trunk of her car. She tries to return him to the candle factory, but before she can, a fire destroys the mysterious workshop—and the old woman is nowhere to be seen.

With the help of the wax boy, who answers to the name Dud, Poppy resolves to find out who was behind the fire. But in the course of her investigation, she discovers that things in Paraffin aren’t always as they seem, that the Grosholtz Candle Factory isn’t as pure as its reputation—and that some of the townspeople she’s known her entire life may not be as human as they once were. In fact, they’re starting to look a little . . . waxy. Can Poppy and Dud extinguish the evil that’s taking hold of their town before it’s too late?"

The Diver's Clothes Lie Empty (Vendela Vida) "The whole plot is about a woman who goes on vacation, loses her documents and decides to roll with it, acquiring new identities through a series of questionable decisions. She gets someone else's passport and credit cards, moves into a different hotel, gets hired as a double of a famous actress, introduces herself with false names, and is very paranoid about being found out. We never learn her actual name, but we do learn that she has always disliked her face and has always tried to choose activities that would draw attention away from her face, so she can pretend it's not even there."

#stranger poll #the stranger #poll #the magnus archives #leitner tournament #the diver's clothes lie empty #vendela vida #Wax #Gina Damico

[lantern-hill]

under the net by iris murdoch - very fun and light hearted but also philosophical novel. set in xx century london, follows a man who cant stop Getting In Situations

the fiery angel by valeri brusov - historical fiction set in xvi century germany, follows a man whose life gets turned upside down by a lady who keeps seeing an angel. this one is more serious and tragical with a lot of beautiful flowery language and historically accurate descriptions. and also there is the occult knowledge

diver's clothes lie empty by vendela vida - a woman commits an identity theft by accident. decides to roll with it bc she is paranoid and Something happened to her not so long ago that she is trying to escape. this one is described as a thriller (not horror, its rather humorous in places actually), but for me the tension started to appear closer to the end of the book. still, it was entertaining

slay slay slay thank you

#ask tag #send fiction recs

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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[shaevilux]

My most unhinged, irrational dislike is second person writing. Wait let me specify: in very special cases it could be really fucking good. Like in the book 'Story of Your Life' or 'The Diver's Clothes Lie Empty' or basically anything where the second person 'you' isn't the reader but like an actual character but there's an artistic need for the story to be told in the second person.

Aside from that I fucking despise reading second person when the 'you' is actually me, the reader. Or is vague about it. Like how dare you tell lies none of this happened to me how dare you put me in those situations and take the agency away from me I didn't consent to any of this. Like my reaction when I read the first 'you' is visceral. My face will just scrunch up and I'll immediately disregard everything I've read until that point and scroll off.

Anyway yeah I know it's stupid and I'm turning myself away from probably some banger reads and fics (let me specify again: I'm not kink shaming or looking down at the obvious 'reader x you' fics like those aren't for me but I respect them. I just don't like the second person writing that is actually purposeless. At least in my eyes.) but yeah I can't stop cringing when I'm scrolling through writing prompt replies and get hit with a 'You did bla bla'

#dont interact with this post #I'll probably delete it once rhe irrational anger wears off #lmao as if anyone's even here to read this #trash take

[whitepolaris]

Deep into the Valley of Death We Go

Perhaps Death Valley’s name is what gives the land its sinister, otherworldly reputation. Certainly, the searing heat and the moonscape panoramas also contribute to the mystery that surrounds the park. 

And of course there are the legends. Tales tell of rotting wagons and gingham dress-clad skeletons half buried in the shifting sands, of the fabulously rich Lost Gunsight Mien and Breyfogle’s elusive gold vein. 

A more macabre mythology has taken hold in the wake of serial killer Charles Manson’s capture here in 1969. Manson retreated to Death Valley with his gang of killer flower children after two bloody nights of slaughter that he hoped would set off a cataclysmic race war. An adherent of a variety of occult doctrines, Manson believed that Devil’s Hole, a deep, water-filled cavern on Death Valley’s Nevada side, was the portal to an underground world where he and his followers could wait out the apocalypse, reemerging as leaders of a purified world. But he was arrested before he could figure out how to get his band through several feet of hot, salty water that had drowned two skin divers just a few years earlier. 

Manson may have learned of the underground world from a story of Tom Wilson, a Cahroc Indian who was a Death Valley guide in the 1920s. Wilson said that he had found a tunnel that extended for miles beneath the valley. Walking its length, the man ended up in an underground chamber where a race of fair-skinned people dwelt. The people spoke a strange foreign language, whose clothes made of leatherlike substance, and illuminated their home with a pale greenish yellow light of unknown origin. 

The Indian eventually resurfaced and returned to his people, who were skeptical about his adventure. But Tom Wilson believe that the old man hadn’t lied, and he spent the rest of his life searching for the entry to this underground world. At one point, he teamed up with a prospector named White, who claimed that he too had found a strange underground dwellings in Death Valley. 

White’s story was that he had been exploring an abandoned mine in Wingate Pass when he fell into a hidden tunnel that led to a series of rooms that were filled with leather-clad human mummies. Gold bars and other fabulous treasures were stacked in piles around them. There was a passageway leading beyond the rooms as well, lit by an eerie greenish yellow light. White dared not explore any farther, fearful of what might lie beyond. 

He visited the rooms three more times, once with his wife and once with another prospector. But he was unable to locate the cavern later, when accompanied by Wilson and a group of archaeologists. The area around Wingate Pass was eventually absorbed into the China Lake Naval Weapons Center and is now closed to the public. 

But other mysteries sites in Death Valley are still accessible. One is the Amargosa Mountains, in the southeast corner of the valley. Years ago a desert rat was driving through this range in his Jeep when he came to a group of boulders blocking the road. He parked his vehicle, found a narrow pass between the rocks, and walked down into a sandy valley, where he saw about thirty wooden buildings half covered by sand dunes and laid out like a planned community. 

The explorer went inside some of the buildings and found wooden tables set for meals, brass candlesticks, scraps of cloth, and even an empty picture frame on the wall. There were no human remains, and no signs of violence or natural disaster. 

No ghost turns were known to exist in these arid mountains. Whether the unnamed explorer had really located a lost community or was just spinning a tall tale has never been determined. 

#weird california #type read

[escondidolibrary]

Don't miss our great book discussion on "The Diver's Close Lie Empty" by Vida Vendela at tomorrow's 2nd Tuesday Book Club, starting at 6 p.m.!

#EscoLibrary #Escondido Ca #the diver's clothes lie empty #vendela vida #2nd Tuesday book club #library #book club

[nebulus-frd]

Jealous and protective Rowan and oblivious Aelin in a modern established relationship au

Hi!!!

Thank u so much for the request. I loved your prompt and also love Rowaelin deeply. Hope u enjoy it ♡

If you liked it or not, let me know. Leave a comment, compliments and especially, constructive critics, are always welcomed.

Wanna request your story? Come ⋆⭒ here ⋆⭒, tell me everything. ----------

The beach. The sea. Them.

Synopsis: Modern AU where Rowan and Aelin finally get a deserved vacation. But he isn't enjoying all the attention given to his wife during the first day of it.

Rated: T

Warnings: implied sexual content. If I forgot anything, let me know.

Words: 1700+ (oneshot).

1/1

It was their first time back at the beach after being married.

The life of a military couple was hectic, to say the least, but Rowan and Aelin were rather used to the chaos. This explained why Rowan found himself alone in bed on the first morning of their vacation. Although his wife had always been a late riser, he knew better than anyone how hard it was to break their routine and if he himself hadn’t take medicine to fall asleep, he wouldn’t probably have slept at all.

Not bothering to properly dress, Rowan moved to the kitchen only to find it empty. Did she go grocery shop? But to his surprise not only was the fridge completely packed, but three sandwiches also topple each other on a plate next to a note.

Good morning princess, did you sleep well? Not even a true love kiss was able to break from the evil medicine spell. I’m training on the beach. Join me… Or not, if you feel like sleeping throughout the entirety of our vacation.

Love,

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.

Rowan didn’t even feel the smile that broke through him. God, I love her. Of course, she was training. His wife always called him a workaholic and a military freak, only to always prove herself one. The food was warm enough for her not to have left for too long. And in half an hour Rowan found himself heading to their hotel gym.

Where was Aelin?

He had circulated the gym area twice without success in the mission of joining his wife. Could she be at the beach? It wouldn’t be a surprise. Aelin loves the sea, the sunny weather, and the heat on her skin.

Eight years ago, if someone said to Rowan that there were people who loved those things, he would have straight-out laughed in their faces. He couldn’t anymore. He had learned to appreciate each of these unlike anyone else.

Rowan loved the smile Aelin would have while watching the sea, loved the glow her eyes would reflect under the sun’s light, loved the heat from Aelin’s heart.

His wife had changed each perspective he had in his life.

And while at the beach, once again he asked himself how the hell, he was deserving of the woman he married to?

Aelin was coming out of the sea, dressed in a swimsuit that covered a lot more of what he was used to seeing, looking like the sea god herself had descended in the mortal world to bestow her beauty upon mortals. Thus, Rowan was hindered breathless and as soon as their eyes locked up, he could listen to her thoughts through them.

“Are you delight with the view?”

And the smile that broke in her lips made his knees go weak. She pointed to a small pile of clothes at his right and he could recognize the tennis beside it. As soon as they met Rowan girdled his arm around her hips and kissed her.

“Missed me much?” Aelin asked holding a smirk while still in his arms. Her turquoise eyes nailed on his green-forest ones. The only answer she received was a grunt and a heavy head dropping in her shoulder. “You know you could use words, rather than growling like a beast”, which made Aelin feel the smile coming from her husband, she could picture it too: the perfect set of teeth accompanied by two fangs that were borderline not-human, which had left so many marks on last night's activities, she had almost come to the beach in a diver suit.

“I can’t be bothered. There are a lot of more interesting things to do with my mouth… And my tong…”, Rowan’s impure statement was interrupted by the sound of Aelin’s phone ring, it took a moment for the woman to snap out of the mood her husband had put them in. Poor object, it earned a glare that, if possible, would have transformed it into ashes.

“Oh hi!... Yes, of course, I’m coming… Right, next to the bar… Yes, be there in a few”, she said on the phone friendly. With whom she could have made prior appointments?

“Where are you going?”, Rowan asked confused, involuntarily holding her tighter, Aelin didn’t hide the smile at her husband's unwillingness.

“WE are going to a functional training, apparently the hotel holds them every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday”, she said while putting on a pair of shorts and her tennis, Rowan just nodded in answer.

Once they were in the central area, the closer location between the hotel’s pools and the beach, the equipment could already be seen as well as 10 people roaming around it. Soon enough a man came up to them greeting Aelin, too friendly to Rowan’s likeness, although he could only spot the top of his head.

“Miss Galathnyius, it’s good to have you with us today”, the strange said while avoiding looking at Rowan’s side but he did not miss a beat.

“It’s Mrs.” his accented and low voice seemed to reverberate, earning him an alarmed glance from the instructor, as he had taken from his clothes and name tag.

“Yes, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Galathnyius it’s a pleasure to have both of you here”, the smaller man seemed ready to bolt as he alternated his looks from Rowan’s face tattoo and Aelin’s mirth-filled eyes, she just nodded and that was very well what he did. She knew it wasn’t jealousy from her husband, more like his inability to not correct a mistaken person.

Oh, how wrong she was.

…

Half an hour throughout the class, Rowan was calculating how much trouble would he be if he were to beat three civilians. As the training was open to anyone at the beach, around fifteen more people had come to enjoy the activities. Including a group of four men, who seem too inclined to help Aelin with her training.

Which had made Rowan seeing red since he heard the first suggestion in correcting Aelin’s posture during a core exercise. Whilst his wife seemed completed oblivious as not only agreed to a few suggestions and gave tips of her own. Rowan didn’t mind that both were right.

Nonetheless, at each suggestion made by a stranger, Rowan would casually assert his territory. Moving closer to Aelin, helping her with the weights and holding her during an exercise that required it. Of course, there was the possibility that none of the people participating held any second intentions towards his wife and were only trying to be helpful. He seriously doubted it, even though that was what Aelin seem to think.

Usually, Rowan had never been one to bluntly be jealous and if he found it necessary to discuss attitude with someone, he wouldn’t do it in front of Aelin. But he’d gone apeshit when one of the guys from before made a move to touch her while he went to grab for water. Fuck this. He had been by her side every single moment. What’s with these disrespectful motherfuckers?

The man whose hands extended to help Aelin in moving the piece on her waist only caught a movement in corner of his eyes before a mountain of a man was before him. His eyes caught a glimpse of a wicked tattoo on the man’s face, which had been hidden by the cap he was using.

Rowan’s intimidating demeanor and the fucking gold ring in his and hers left hands were more than enough for assholes to grasp the situation.

She is mine, I’m hers. Fuck off.

Either it was the rings or himself didn’t matter. Apparently, with one look everybody understood his warning.

…

However, nine hours later, he’d been left baffled as his wife complained how, after he glued himself to her side, nobody had talked or interacted with her anymore.

“Well, if you weren’t such a territorial bastard today, we could have made some friends that could introduce us to the town”, she said as they had clearly lost themselves while looking for a Japanese restaurant.

“I beg your pardon?”, Rowan answered seeing red all over again just from remembering the previous event.

“Oh, come on, you thought I did notice? You were just asserting your territory for the heck of it”, she said not bothering with more than an eye roll, still searching the street’s name on their map.

“For the heck of it?”, Rowan was bewildered. Aelin thought he was doing that out of leisure?

“You couldn’t possibly be jealous of those guys from the beach, right?”, she said finally dropping the stupid map that had put them in their current predicament and looking straight into his eyes. Whatever she saw there gave Rowan his favorite smile. “You were….”, she laughed, loud and uncaring. Beautiful. “You are unbelievable”.

Like the viper his wife was, she stealthy approached him in that dark alley. “My cranky husband was jealous of some gym dudes?”, her voice was surrounded by arrogance and seductiveness. Reminding Rowan just who he had married with. The most confident, assertive, dazzling woman he had ever met.

Their eyes were locked on each other as she stalked him like a snake ready to consume her prey. His response to her provocation was nothing more than a grunt. “You know what you should have done?... You could have kissed me right there, ravished me, really… And I would’ve said thank you”.

After many years into their relationship, one would think that Rowan had become numb to Aelin’s advances. However, it was very much the opposite of it. He would be scandalized, shocked… And excited, she burned him with bold words and even bolder actions that made his head spin. His calloused hand didn’t miss one second into holding Aelin’s by her backside and his mouth went to her neck.

“Ditch dinner, Fireheart, I will show you what I would like to have done”, Rowan could feel Aelin’s thundering heartbeat, like his own due to their proximity. It would never lie to him, he affected her just as she did him.

“Oh, why, when you say with such gentleness. I suppose we could make something at home”, she smoothed her hand at Rowan’s ringed finger each word, handing him a bright smile by the end. “I love you”, albeit the sentence was said in a soft tone, it swept bothering feelings between the two, such as sea waves that accompanied their evening.

“To whatever end”, he said holding her left hand and as they walked toward the ocean. Free, unrestricted, and vast. Much like their love.

#rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #aelin ashryver #fanfic request #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin au #modern setting #they are powerful military couple fight me #jealous rowan #oblivious aelin #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #love them so much #rowaelin oneshot #oneshot

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Top 5 female characters in literature?

Delightful ask! Thank you, Anon!!

I'm going to divide it by female characters written by women vs. written by men because the ~vibe~ is different.

top 5 written by men

Kathy H. (Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro)

Annie Platt (Juliet, Naked - Nick Hornby)

Laura Brown (The Hours - Michael Cunningham)

Eustacia Vye (The Return of the Native - Thomas Hardy)

Beatrice (Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare)

top 5 10 written by women (I tried to do 5. I tried.)

the second Mrs. de Winter (Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier)

Monica (The Cheerleaders - Kara Thomas)

Stevie Bell (Truly Devious - Maureen Johnson)

Seol (The Silence of Bones - June Hur)

Cindy (Marilou is Everywhere - Sarah Elaine Smith)

the narrator (The Diver's Clothes Lie Empty - Vendela Vida)

Ada (Outlawed - Anna North)

Miss Marple (Agatha Christie)

Beth March (Little Women - Louisa May Alcott)

Malka Treynovsky (The Ice Cream Queen of Orchard Street - Susan Jane Gilman)

ask me my top 5 / top 10 anything

#asks #not completely in order but THIS WAS VERY DIFFICULT #I agonized

[wolveria]

Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 1

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn't counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay!

Word Count: 2.3k

AO3

The lab was empty and the only noise that filled the space was the gentle sound of lapping water. After a quick glance to make sure the techs had left for the day, you sat at the edge of the tank and pulled off your shoes and socks, dipping your toes into the chilly water. A sigh escaped you, the cold a balm against your aching feet, and the pain in your legs receded to a manageable level.

As if on cue, two fins broke the surface of the water, one stout and grey while the other was dark, elegant, but curled over as if it had lost its rigidness. They headed in your direction, causing ripples from the speed of their passing. Just as the disturbances reached you, they broke the surface, revealing twin faces with very different expressions.

The one with the grey dorsal fin chirped in greeting, brown eyes wide as he rubbed the side of his face against your shin like a cat. You smiled, just as you did every time Connor greeted you that way, and reached down to run your hand through his slicked brown hair. And like every other time, his eyes became half-lidded and a soft rumble came from his chest.

The other Ceta sapien with the dark, limp dorsal fin, his twin brother, kept at a tentative distance. Icy grey eyes, the color of stone in the dim light, watched with an unreadable expression. That was to be expected from Nines, but you knew him long enough to know that he was pleased to see you.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you rolled up your pant leg, attempting to keep it dry and away from Connor’s affectionate rubbing. “Had a lot of work to finish up.”

Your smile faded as you took in the sight of the contraption around his head; a metal cage that acted as a muzzle, forced onto him earlier that day by the technicians. Nines must have done something to piss them off again.

“I hope you didn’t bite anyone this time,” you said gently, fishing a ring of keys out of your pocket. “Not that they don’t deserve it. I just don’t want them to put you in isolation again.”

You held out your hand to show him the keys. “Come here, I’ll take it off.”

You’d probably get in trouble for it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The only reason you were still at this shitty job was because of the RK twins. Everyone else treated them like curiosities at best, lab rats at worst. You were genuinely afraid what would happen to them if you left.

Connor rested his chin on your bare knee as he watched his brother cautiously swim toward you. His face normally didn’t have a huge range of expression, but you could have sworn the area around his eyes was tight with fear. That wasn’t like him at all.

Making sure your movements were slow and unthreatening, you reached down to the small padlock keeping the strap in place. The techs had put it there because Nines had figured out how to undo the straps and remove the muzzle himself, leaving it at the bottom of the massive tank so the divers would have to get it. Probably on purpose, knowing him.

Your fingers were careful as you removed the lock and pulled open the straps, lifting the cruel device from around his face.

“There,” you said, tossing the muzzle away, glad to be rid of it. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Nines remained silent as he usually did, nowhere near as vocal as his brother, but he brushed the edge of one broad shoulder against your calf, leaving you warm with surprise as he retreated a safe distance. You could count on one hand the times he’d made physical contact, and as far as you knew, you were the only person he’d ever touched willingly.

Connor, on the other hand, was an insatiable cuddle-bug, and even now he was nudging his nose against your leg, and then actually licked it, making you jump.

“You’re especially clingy today.” You ran your fingers through his hair, eliciting another happy thrill. “Is it because of what they did to Nines?”

The smaller ceta was normally much more friendly with humans, but when they handled Nines roughly, he could become a vicious storm of teeth and claws. The techs never worked on them both at the same time for that reason, separating them into different pools and causing them both more stress than necessary.

You hated it. Hated everything about this place, from the rough techs to the cruel doctors. Dr. Stern made your blood run cold, but Dr. Kamski made the flesh on the back of your neck prickle. You hated them both, and you were human. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for the twins.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing Connor’s cheek now and letting him lean into your palm. “You’re both okay now.”

A lie you had to tell but hated telling. More than you hated your heartless bosses who only saw the cetas as a source of grant money and academic prestige.

As if they could sense your mood, which you were half-convinced they could, Connor wrapped his fingers around your ankle and gently tugged. He was always gentle with your legs, especially on bad pain days. That’s just how Connor was, in tune with your moods in a way that was almost unsettling.

Even Nines swam closer, brows perked with interest as he hovered a couple feet away.

“I don’t know if I have time for that tonight, guys,” you said, shoulders hunched. “It’s late and I have to be in early tomorrow—“

Connor interrupted you with a pitiful noise very close to a whine and his brother frowned up at you, lips pursed into an expression that was almost, and hilariously, bitchy. Sometimes, you really thought they understood what you were saying. You wished more than anything they could talk, but they couldn’t. They weren’t human, no matter how you wished otherwise.

Connor gave up on pulling you into the water, and instead propped his chin on your knee, staring up at you with big brown eyes that could put an actual puppy to shame.

“I can’t,” you insisted, the sternness of your voice sabotaged by the smile creeping on your lips. “Not tonight.”

The larger ceta snorted through his nostrils and turned away. You thought he was going to ignore you and pout, but instead he dived beneath the surface and—

You yelped and covered your head with your hands as his large black and white tail slapped against the surface, covering you in an impressive wave of cold water.

“Oh, you asshole!” you choked out as you wiped the water from your eyes. Connor was making a rapid-fire clicking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. You sent him a narrowed glare and his lips widened into a toothy grin.

“Don’t encourage him,” you said, pointing a figure at Connor. The smaller ceta simply tilted his head as if he had no idea what on earth you were talking about and he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

You really were spending too much time with them. It was a bad habit of yours, seeing things that couldn’t possibly be there. Little looks and gestures that seemed to mean something more, and you constantly had to remind yourself it was all wishful thinking and loneliness.

Huffing and rolling your eyes, you pulled your legs out of the water and rose to your feet. You needed to put a stop to this and start spending time with other people, even if you would rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

Connor made a small, pathetic chirp as he swam to the edge of the water. He grabbed the ledge and stared up at you, and you could have sworn there was sadness there. Even the armband around his right bicep, normally glowing blue, brightened to a bright yellow, reflecting his increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

Goddammit.

“Okay. Okay. You two are gonna get me fired, you know that?” Your protested sounded weak to your own ears, but it was all worth it to see Connor’s ears perk up and his armband return to a soothing blue.

Even Nines had come back, waiting along the edge of the research pool with Connor, staring up at you expectantly. His armband had never changed from its blue color, but that was just how he was. Somehow, he’d learned how to keep his vital signs calm and cool, even when he was seconds away from trying to take off someone’s fingers.

The techs blamed faulty equipment even though they’d never found anything wrong with the armband. You knew better; Nines had learned the humans used the armbands as a gauge to predict their moods, and Nines had outsmarted them. And would continue to outsmart them, because you seemed to be the only person who realized what he was up to.

Sometimes, like right now, as he was leveling his unblinking, heavy gaze at you while you got undressed, made you wonder just how smart he was. Even now, his grey eyes were too aware, and you had to turn away as you tugged off your clothing.

You wore a bathing suit underneath, a two-piece consisting of boy shorts and a halter top. It was convenient in that it acted like underwear under your clothing, and let you slip into the pool at the end of your shift to swim with the twin brothers.

The swimsuit also had the benefit of being kind of sexy. Not that you were trying to impress anyone. It was sad enough the brothers were the closest things you had to friends.

You sat down at the edge of the water and turned around, resting the ledge against your stomach so you could slip down into the water more easily.

A pair of arms grabbed you from behind immediately, pulling you down into the water.

You gave a startled yelp, sputtered as salt water entered your mouth, and spit it out with an annoyed growl. The arms didn’t let you go, and instead pull you back against a warm chest as he swam backwards along the surface of the water.

Usually Connor gave you a little more time to adjust before grabbing you and swimming around like a seal with its favorite toy.

Normally you tolerated it, but you couldn’t stay as long as you usually did, and you wanted to actually get some swimming done to try and ease the pain in your leg joints and soothe the rigid calf muscles.

“Okay, Connor, that’s enough.”

A frantic chirp came from the left from a few feet away. You opened your eyes, startled to find Connor following after you.

You tensed, heart hammering as your limbs went rigid, and the ceta carrying you along slowed to a stop. He didn’t release his hold and you looked down to see the arms were slightly bigger than they should have been.

Oh, fuck, was your first thought.

He’s going to eat me, was your second.

You took a breath and tried to hold your voice steady. “Nines. I need you to let me go.”

You remained firmly within his embrace. If anything, he slightly tightened his grip.

He’s is definitely going to fucking eat me.

“Nines, let me go.”

The fear was definitely clear in your voice now. He must have heard it. You were so screwed. It was the only thing your brain would repeat, even though human deaths by cetas were rare these days. They still happened, though, and the corded muscles holding you still could easily tear you limb from limb.

Connor moved closer, head tilted in curiosity, but worse, his armband was glowing yellow again.

Blue, go through.

Yellow, not mellow.

Red, you’re dead.

The motto the technicians lived by. You were pretty sure you were dead anyway, even without the color codes. You glanced down at Nines’ armband and it was yellow too.

Not good.

Connor chirped sharply at his brother. Nines returned the sound with a lower, deeper growl. The monkey part of your brain told you a shark was about to sink its rows of teeth around your neck.

Connor released another series of noises, complex chirps and clicks you’d never heard before, and could have sworn… they were talking. Sure, cetas communicated with each other, but they didn’t have a language. They didn’t—

Connor moved forward and Nines moved back in equal measure. You could feel the bend of his tail against your legs, long and powerful, and the monkey part of your brain shrieked in fear again.

It was nothing compared to the terror when Nines took you away from Connor and picked up speed. You knew he was going to pull you under the water, drown you, probably not even doing it on purpose.

Tears pricked your eyes as your heart thudded in your chest. This was it. They were going to find you at the bottom of the pool the next morning, drowned and partially eaten.

Would anyone even care?

“Nines, stop!”

Your mouth hung open, your brain unable to process. You hadn’t shouted the words.

Nines came to an immediate standstill. Connor swam forward, brows furrowed sharply as his eyes darted between you and his brother.

“You’re scaring her.”

The words were soft, gentle, and impossibly coming from Connor’s mouth.

“Unfortunate,” a voice said, directly next to your ear. A voice that sounded almost identical to Connor’s. “But unavoidable.”

A hand clamped down over your mouth when you tried to scream, but the fight was already going out of you as an intense dizziness hit, leaving you woozy and weak. This couldn’t be happening.

They were talking.

Next Chapter

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #mermay #mermaid au #merman!connor #merman!nines #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #connor x reader x nines #rk1700 #rk1700 x reader #my writing #my fanfiction

[let-it-raines]

Nonnie, this is quite possibly one of the funniest prompts I’ve ever received. I actually, legitimately laughed out loud when I read it, and I definitely had to find the original post to read it all. Not gonna lie, I’m totally rooting for that poor girl.

I hope you enjoy this version of such a crazy little tale 😘

on ao3 | here | if that’s more your style

-/-

Her back is absolutely killing her. There are bones in positions they are definitely not supposed to be in, and she has to wonder where the hell David and Mary Margaret got their couch. Emma secretly thinks that when she asked them if she could come stay with them for a few weeks – days, weeks, months, who the hell knows at this point – they got rid of their old couch and replaced it with one that they found on the side of the road that’s full of extra springs and the smallest amount of cushion stuffing on the planet.

David and Mary Margaret are too full of kindness to do something like that, but she knows that if her sister – if she had one obviously – called and said she lost her job and her apartment and needed a place to crash for a little while, she would definitely make the stay as uncomfortable as possible.

If the couch crasher isn’t comfortable, it means they won’t stay as long, right?

It’s July, and she’s been on their couch since the end of April. So much for that theory, obviously. But hey, at least she’s not stuck still living with Neal because if she had to sleep in the same apartment as her cheating douchebag of an ex, there is no guarantee that she wouldn’t murder him in his sleep.

Small blessings and all.

Emma raises her arms above her head and interlaces her hands together, stretching her body out and loosening up her limbs, before she moves her legs and starts running. She’s never been much of a runner. She always thought it was some kind of voluntary torture. Back in Boston, she had a kickboxing gym she went to every day, but there’s not one of those in Storybrooke. There’s one gym here, and it’s got out of date equipment that definitely aren’t cleaned every day. There’s no way she’d ever pay for that when she’s already short on cash to begin with.

So running on the beach it is, even if it makes her calves feel like they are legitimately on fire.

There’s no one on the beach this morning. Sometimes tourists will get here early and mark their space with their chairs and their umbrellas, but today, it’s blissfully empty so that she can run up and down the sand without being bothered. Music blares through her headphones, and it propels her forward every time that she wants to quit. She’s never been one to want to stare at the ocean and soak in its beauty. It’s never calmed her, but now, when her days are spent going between having a bad back, serving drinks to people who don’t know how to tip, and wondering if her life is always going to suck this much, she thinks that the ocean isn’t that bad.

It’s calm and beautiful, and right now, it’s as blue as the…what the fuck?

Emma stops jogging, sand kicking up around her, and her breath escapes her as she squints and looks out onto the ocean past the pier.

Is there…is there someone out there?

About forty, fifty feet out in the water, there’s some kind of floating figure. She can’t really tell from here, but it looks like there’s a man floating on his back, his head tilted backward.

Oh shit.

This area has been full of scuba divers this summer, but they’re usually in groups and only go in the afternoon with some kind of instructor. This guy – or girl, she can’t really tell right now because she doesn’t have her contacts in and can’t see that far away – must have been a dumbass and gone on his own.

Her stomach is heavy, like it’s full of wet sand, and when she looks around, she’s reminded that there’s no one around.

Shit, shit, shit.

This isn’t what she’s trained to do. She’s not even technically trained to do anything. She’s only really ever worked in food service besides her boring as hell office job in Boston, and none of that would have ever prepared her for something like this.

“Oh, what the hell?” Emma mumbles to herself as she pulls her tank top off before tugging her leggings down, kicking them off with her socks and shoes. She drops her phone and her headphones into her shoes. She’s in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of underwear that literally has little animated penises on it from Mary Margaret’s bachelorette party, but that doesn’t really matter when this guy (girl) might be dying.

The water is cold when she first dives in, and salt gets up her nose so that her throat is itching, but she manages to swim out to the water as quickly as possible. Now that she’s closer, she can see that it’s definitely a man, and Emma closes her eyes as she closes the final strides and reaches for him.

When she opens them, he is staring directly at her, blue eyes blown wide in what she can only assume is confusion.

So, he’s not dead. That’s good to know.

“Are you okay?” Emma blurts out, salt water still in her mouth that she hacks up.

The guy nods and slowly removes his regulator and his mask. One eyebrow raises before they both furrow together. “Aye.”

Great. He thinks she’s a lunatic. She probably is.

She just tried to save a man from drowning when he wasn’t actually drowning.

This is all Mary Margaret and David’s fault because they own the most uncomfortable couch in existence, and she obviously is suffering from poor decision making because of a lack of sleep.

“I thought you were dead!” Emma explains as she starts treading water and hopes that a shark doesn’t show up any time soon. That would really be the cherry on top of her day. “But you’re obviously not dead.”

“No, love, I don’t think I am.”

“What’s going on here?”

Emma stops treading and dips under the water before she rises back up and sees another guy floating a few feet away. As she looks around more and more keep popping up, all of them deadly silent, and if she had any air in her lungs right now, she would scream.

What the hell has she just walked…swam into?

And then, when she comes to her senses, she realizes that they’re all laughing at her.

The bunch of assholes.

(She probably deserves their laughter, but she won’t admit to that.)

“Alright, alright,” the non-dead guy says, raising his hand in the air, “leave the lady alone. She is a real savior, okay?” He flashes her a pearly white smile and nods back to the shore. “Do you want to go back and get away from these assholes?”

What she’d like to do right now is drown, but there seems to be none of that going around today.

“Yeah, I would. I don’t need you to take me back though.”

“Good because I’m not going to. I’m simply going to happen to be swimming to the shore at the same time that you do.”

Emma nods and then turns around and starts swimming back. He stays at her heels while his friends whistle out words she’s ignoring behind them, and while Emma considers herself to be in good shape, she is not a swimmer. The adrenaline from her run and from her not-so-daring rescue are wearing off, and she can feel her breathing getting heavier and heavier. Is the shore getting further away? That would be impossible.

“You’re so lucky you weren’t actually dying back there because there was no way I was going to be able to drag your sorry ass back to shore.” He chuckles, and she cuts her eyes back at him. “I’m glad you find this funny.”

“I find this hysterical, love. You need a tug to shore?”

She does, but there’s no way in hell that she’s going to accept that.

“Absolutely not.”

Eventually, after what feels like ages, she steps foot on solid, if sandy, ground, and the early morning air nips at her skin as she emerges from the water. She tries to shake it off while walking toward her clothes, but she knows that there’s no way that she could possibly get her leggings back on.

That would be torture of an entirely different kind.

Holy shit. She’s wearing underwear with cartoon dicks on them.

This day could not get any worse.

Except when she turns around, she sees the guy stripping out of his gear, only the wetsuit left on, and this is the first time she gets a really good luck at him. He’s trim, like he spends a heck of a lot more time swimming than she does, and he’s got dark stubble across his jaw that she imagines would feel fantastic brushing against her skin. His eyes also seem to be bluer now, and she definitely didn’t think that was possible.

Okay, so maybe her day could get worse.

Or a little better.

Then she watches his eyes tail down her body, just for a moment, but it’s long enough that she knows that he’s noticed her unfortunate choice in underwear.

“So, do you go about saving people every morning or is this just a one-time thing?”

“Definitely a one-time thing since all of my effort was apparently useless.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. That’s the most entertainment me and the boys have had in weeks. I don’t think we’re going to forget about this for a long time.”

Emma nods and bends down to get her tank top. She pulls it over, and it immediately clings to her skin. So much for getting a little coverage. “You lead that boring of a life then? All diving all the time?”

“Lately, yeah.”

“Is that so?”

He shakes his hair out and runs his fingers through his locks, and she is not distracted by that at all.

(She is definitely not thinking about the fact that she hasn’t had sex in several months.)

(She just embarrassed the hell out of herself in front of him, so that shouldn’t even be a though going through her mind.)

(Even if these were normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be a thought that went through her mind this early in the morning.)

“We’re training for diving school for the Navy,” he explains. “We’ve got a few weeks off that we’re spending up here for the incredible diving spots, but then we’ll be in Florida for four months.”

“Well, I hope you won’t need any saving while you’re there.”

“It won’t be you, so I’m not sure that it’d be quite as enjoyable.” Emma rolls her eyes, and she has to try her hardest not to let herself smile. That was a bad line. She will not smile at it. “Killian Jones, by the way. And you are?”

“Emma Swan.” She reaches out to take his hand to shake, but instead, he pulls it up and brushes his lips across the back of her hand, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s nice to meet you, Swan. You wouldn’t happen to know a good spot around here to get a beer, would you?”

Emma looks down at her feet, kicking them in the sand, before she raises her head and smiles. He’s flirting with her. She just embarrassed the hell out of herself, interrupted a military training exercise, and he’s flirting with her.

What’s wrong with him?

“I actually work at the Crab Shack down by the pier. Don’t let the name fool you. There is only a small possibility that you’ll get crabs if you shack up while there.”

Okay, what is wrong with her?

Killian cocks his head to the side and chuckles as a water droplet falls from his hair and streaks down his face. Why is that so distracting? “I’ll see if the boys and I can stop by tonight. You know, to celebrate the woman who saved me.”

“Alright, alright,” Emma laughs, holding her hands up and bowing her head. “I get it. I’m never going to live this down.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

-/-

David and Mary Margaret are both at work when she gets home, so she thankfully doesn’t have to explain her appearance. Her heart is still racing and her clothes are still soaking wet. Her leggings were pretty much impossible to get on, so she walked through the streets of Storybrooke in nothing but sneakers, a tank top, and dick-covered underwear. She takes a shower and tries to wash away the embarrassment of the morning. She never thought that she was one to embarrass easily, but she guesses that was not some kind of normal situation.

Why is she such an idiot?

Is this just a new low point in her life?

She’s not working until after lunch, and while she would usually take this time to clean up around the loft to show her appreciation for David and Mary Margaret for letting her crash here, she doesn’t do that. Instead, she spends a ridiculous amount of time trying to decide what to wear to work, like she’s not going to wear her regular cut-offs and a tank top. That’s exactly what she puts on, and if she decides to add a lacy bralette, well, that’s just because all of her other bras need to be washed.

Eventually, she heads to work, clocks in, and starts helping to serve the few tables and the people at the bar. It’s pretty slow, though, and when there’s only one guy in a booth in the corner, she tells Ruby about her morning.

Considering Ruby literally starts choking from laughing so much, Emma thinks maybe that wasn’t her best idea.

“You were wearing the underwear from Marg’s bachelorette party?”

“It was clean! I have to do laundry!”

“This is the best thing to ever happen to me,” Ruby laughs, leaning forward and resting her face on the countertop before she pops back up with wide eye and a wolfish smirk. “Wait. Did you say that he’s coming here tonight?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that why you have on mascara?”

“I wear makeup sometimes.”

“Rarely.” Ruby places her hands on her hips, and okay, maybe she definitely shouldn’t have told Ruby. She probably wouldn’t have noticed the Navy guys coming in. “Oh, is he cute? Are you going to sleep with him? Is that what’s up with you looking slightly put together. Emma Swan, have you gone and found yourself a man in the most ridiculous way possible?”

“I am not going to sleep with him.” Ruby raises her brows and then winks, and all Emma can do is shake her head. “He’s in the Navy. He’s about to go to Florida for four months and then who knows where? What would even be the point?”

“That sounds like the perfect excuse to sleep with him. There are no strings attached, and I’m sure he knows that too. I mean, you’ve got to get over that douche eventually. Why not do it with a hot guy who is going to leave, no strings attached?”

She’s only known Ruby from when she’s come to visit David, but they’ve managed to be pretty close friends over the last few months. Ruby is fearless and crass, and there’s never anything holding her back. Emma often wishes she was like that.

The girl is right, unfortunately, not that Emma would admit that to her. She would never shut up about it.

“He’s probably not even going to show, Rubes.”

-/-

He shows.

His entire crew doesn’t. It’s just him and two guys named Robin and Will, and they all settle down at a booth, ordering burgers and drinks and taking the piss out of her every time she brings them something. Will is the main culprit, and she’s pretty sure that he’s the one who scared the shit out of her earlier by silently popping up out of nowhere.

It’s weird seeing them all out of their gear and in their civilian clothes. Killian is in a pair of dark jeans that hug his legs – not that she was staring or anything – and a short-sleeved gray t-shirt. A tattoo peaks out underneath his sleeve, and she’s curious as to what it is.

She’s not going to sleep with him, though. That’s not…that’s not happening.

“So, I have to ask,” Ruby says after Emma’s been chatting with them on and off for an hour, “did you manage to get a good look at the panties this girl had on earlier?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t, love,” Killian tells Ruby before looking at Emma and winking.

Oh, she might be in trouble if he’s going to do things like that..

“Really?” Ruby asks, disappointed.

“I’m afraid that I was too busy being thankful to be saved to pay any attention to what my savior was wearing.”

“I call bullshit on that, but whatever. You really missed out too. They were the greatest pair of panties in existence.”

Little by little, the bar fills up with people, mostly tourists, but a few locals come in. Will and Robin start talking with a few guys they happen to know, but Killian comes to sit at the bar across from her where she learns that he’s originally from California but that his dad was in the military growing up and they moved around a lot. His mom was British, and they spent the majority of his early years in England, which explains the slight accent, and he has an older brother who lives in Denmark with his wife. At twenty-four, he’s only three years older than her, and he says that he got a bit of a late start to being in the Navy, messing around too much and not knowing what the hell it is he wanted to do with his life.

Emma gets that more than he could probably ever know. She’s literally sleeping on her brother’s couch and working in a place called the Crab Shack.

They don’t even sell crab most days.

He gives as good as he gets with being teased, and she finds that he’s always quick to give back an insult or a jab whenever one comes from Ruby or from his friends.

Or from her.

It’s easy talking to him, laughing and sharing a drink and some fries, and as the night goes on, it’s even easier to forget that she hasn’t flirted since Neal and that the man smiling across from her was the witness to one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.

Killian kisses her against the wall in the hallway that leads back to the bathrooms and the storage closets. It’s dark, the music from the bar dimmed, and the only thing she can focus on is the warmth of his mouth and the expert sweep of his tongue as chills scatter across her body before warming her everywhere, from her toes to her cheeks but especially in the pit of her belly. She hasn’t been kissed like that in quite some time, if not ever, and getting lost in it is as easy as anything she’s ever done.

She doesn’t sleep with him, though.

She desperately wants to, aches for it really, but he mutters something about being a gentleman, which she protests against, but he reassures her that he is, indeed, always a gentleman.

Making out with her in the hallway of a bar doesn’t really allow that theory to hold up, but she guesses he’s going to play the gentleman card.

He promises he’ll be back, though, asking her if she’s working tomorrow, and when she says yes, he kisses her again and then walks out the door.

-/-

Killian comes back the next day.

And the next.

And the one after that.

And then he asks if he can see her outside of work, take her on a proper date or something, and the only reason Emma says yes is because she knows this is temporary. He’s going to leave soon, so it’s okay for her to get to know him and laugh with him and make out with him in the backseat of her car until her lips are kiss-swollen and every part of her is flushed.

It’s okay for her to get to know how he likes his burgers and what his favorite drink is and that the tattoo on his arm is in honor of his mom who passed away five years ago. She learns more about his brother and his apparently shitty dad, just as she tells him about David who he apparently had some kind of run-in with on his first night in town, and little by little, she starts to know all of these pieces of this man she never should have met.

If she were a romantic, Emma would say that this is like something out of a movie, a summer romance that passes by in montages full of laughter and good times. She’s not a romantic, though. She knows that this is the real world where things don’t work out like that, but even so, the weeks pass by, and when she goes to bed at night, she finds herself thinking of blue eyes and a kind but mischievous smile.

Oh.

Oh, okay. Maybe she’s gotten herself in too deep of waters without knowing the way out, and this time, there’s not going to be some idiot running along the beach who dives out into the ocean to save her.

Despite her thoughts starting to attack her, her heart aching even when she tells it to stop, she continues to see him whenever she can. And a week before he leaves, they manage to find a time when no one is home but the two of them, and while she doesn’t intend for it go that far, once his lips brush across her neck and liquid heat blazes over her skin, there’s no stopping them as they shed their clothes.

“No dick-covered underwear today, love?” Killian whispers against her bare stomach as he kisses her in such a way that her stomach ripples.

“I’m afraid those have been retired.”

“A pity that.”

They don’t talk much for the next few minutes, not more than curses and instructions and repetitive words of pleasure, and as her heart races while Killian drives her absolutely mad with his movements, it also aches, the ticking time bomb she wants liked suddenly something she’s dreading.

She likes him.

Honestly, truly likes him.

He’s kind and funny and has a mouth on him that matches hers in curses and in banter. He asks her about her day and listens to her when she talks, which Neal nearly never did, and while she finds that what’s between them is physical, there’s something more underneath the surface, so damn close to breaking through.

When he leaves, she doesn’t want to say goodbye. She’s never been particularly good at those, but Killian still comes to the bar, sits with her at the counter likes it’s not his last day, and when he has to go, he takes her hand and pulls her outside, the wind whipping around them and the smell of salt permeating the air.

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

Emma nearly makes some kind of sarcastic quip, but instead she leans up on her toes and slowly glides her lips over his, savoring the softness and undeniable warmth of them one last time.

“Good.”

-/-

Emma wakes to a text the next morning.

KJ: So, I have some time off in January. Do you think I could take you to dinner?

ES: I think that could be arranged. I don’t know if I’ll recognize you all bundled up to live through Maine’s winter weather.

KJ: I’ll bring a red rose, just in case.

Emma rolls over on the couch and buries her smile in her pillow.

ES: I am looking forward to it.

-/-

Emma sees Killian for the first time – FaceTime not included – on January third, four months and a week after they said goodbye. He’s standing outside her apartment – one she shares with Ruby, each of them with their own, actual bedrooms – dressed in his Naval dress uniform with a red rose in his hand.

His hair is shorter, his usual stubble a little bit more trimmed, his skin tanned, and even with his uniform, she can see that his shoulders are broader than they were this summer.

“Hi,” Emma whispers. She thought she was yelling it, but it definitely only came out as a whisper. “You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

He cocks his head to the side, smile bright, and God, she has missed that smile. “Ah, well, you see, I had an opportunity to see the woman I love one day sooner, and there was no way in hell I was going to pass up that opportunity.”

“The woman you love, huh?”

“Aye.” He steps closer, and it takes everything in Emma not to tackle him to the ground. “She’s this fiery lass who is beyond brilliant and witty. And, I’ll have you know, that she is so brave that she’ll dive into the ocean to save a drowning man. Would you happen to know anyone like that?”

Emma rolls her eyes and closes the distance between them. It was once 1,500 miles (she may have looked it up), but that is no longer. And it feels damn good. “I might have an idea where you can find her.”

“Good,” he says, her own word from so long ago echoing back to her, before pressing his lips to hers in a deep, slow kiss that feels like it never stopped.

She has never been so thankful for David’s shitty couch and how it inadvertently led her to this.

#the one where emma goes underwater #cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

[farfromparker]

Erotas - Chapter Four | t.h.

Erotas Masterlist

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Summary: It’s the day of the rehearsal dinner and Tom finally meets your whole family

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Originally, chapters 4 and 5 were going to be one long ass chapter, but I split them. 😈

Special thanks to @worldoftom  💞💞

Tom wakes up slowly, peacefully. The soft roar of the ocean pulling him from his slumber. Gulls call out sporadically and his eyelids flutter open. The morning sun basks the room in a warm glow. The bed is empty and he sits up, ignoring the relief he feels when he sees you sitting out on the terrace, fingers curled around a cuppa. He watches you watch the sea for a moment, you look calm, the soft curve of your lips as you smile softly is his first sign. Your eyes slide shut and you tilt your head up to enjoy the sun on your skin. 

He wants you to have this moment so he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move from the bed, not wanting to interrupt. He glances behind himself to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost 9am, meaning it’s not even 7am London time. 

He wonders how long you’ve been up. 

You set your cup on a side table, starting to get up and he gets tangled in the sheets as he tries to get out of the bed quickly. He can’t get caught staring at you, not after last night. The embarrassment stings just as much as it did when it happened. It wasn’t even anything sexual, it was a game for fuck’s sake. You joked if off, and he did his best to not let it become a Thing™️ but he can’t help but fret over what you thought when it happened… what you think of him now because of it. 

“Morning, Tom,” you chime, smiling as you step into the room. 

He clears his throat, strangling the embarrassment sitting in his chest. “Morning, darling. How long have you been up?”

You hum. “I think I got up just before eight.”

He wants to ask if you’ve been up since before 6am London time because your family is flying in today, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to. 

He nods instead. “What do you want to do today then? We’ve got the whole day to ourselves, right?”

Your eyes light up as come to set on the corner of the bed, he follows suit. “Yeah! I was looking up some things earlier. We can go scuba diving! There were a few other things, but they’d take up too much of our day considering dinner tonight. Or, the hotel has an infinity pool with a swim up bar if we just want to drink. There’s a cute shopping district too just a couple minutes walk from here.” 

“What would take up too much time? We’ve got all day tomorrow too, right?

Realization dawns across your face, “Oh yeah! Um, horseback riding or parasailing need a good chunk of our time, they’re both a little ways away from the city. The parasailing place is actually on the other side of the island.”

He nods. “Okay, so we could do one tomorrow and the other on Saturday? What’s your plan for that day?”

“Well, hopefully be properly hungover.” 

His eyes crinkle. “Right, yes, you’re right. So I won’t lie, I don’t think I want to parasail or ride horse if I’m hungover.”

You shake your head in agreement. “No, definitely not. I think Saturday we can just say goodbye to my family? Walk to the beach and swim, lay around…”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me. So which one do you want to do tomorrow?”

“I was thinking, if we go scuba diving today, we can go horseback riding tomorrow?”

“I’m game for all that!” And as he watches you smile, looking genuinely happy and excited, he starts thinking of ways he can keep that look on your face for the rest of your life. 

Your American Champagne Breakfast arrives after a quick call down to the front desk and both your mouths start watering as the attendant brings in the cart. Food is piled high, waffles with three types of syrup, bacon, sausage, an assortment of colorful fruit along with a fresh blend of juices from apricots, peaches and nectarines. There’s another bottle of champagne as well, but you both agree to keep that for later, best not to drink and dive. 

You leave the room just before 10:30 and head down to the beach, tummies full, swimwear on underneath a small layer of clothing to keep your modesty. You had called ahead to make the reservation and they had a slot available for their 11am shore dive. 

There’s a trail from your hotel that leads down to the sand beach below. Tom watches you take your shoes off as soon as you get off the gravel path, digging your toes in the sand. He copies you, tossing his shoes in the backpack he’s got slung over shoulder, putting yours in there as well. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone diving,” you share, turning to him as you amble along in the sand. 

“Me too, my brothers and I went when we were in Italy two years ago for a family vacation, but I haven’t gone since.” 

He watches you squint your eyes, thinking. “It’s about the same about time for me too. We were in Spain for —” You gesture vaguely with your hands. “Something like this.” You shrug. Tom can’t decide if you don’t actually remember, or if you’d just rather not talk about it. Regardless, he doesn’t push.

“I’ve got a feeling this dive is gonna be a good one,” he continues. Glancing up ahead, he can see the shack on the beach, with a diving sign hanging above the door that’s a bright red and white, so there’s no way to miss it. 

“The company is definitely better…” you pause, eyes a little wide as though you didn’t mean to say that outloud. But you don’t backtrack. “At least for me.” 

He touches your hand with his and says quietly. “Yeah, me too.” 

An older gentleman greets you outside. You’re a good 15 meters from the entrance when he appears, but he’s smiling and waving at you nonetheless. He’s got short white hair and a very bushy white mustache to match. 

“Geiá sou, Kaliméra! Good morning!” he declares. 

“Good morning,” you call back in unison. 

He shakes your hands when you get to him, smile wide across his face, “You are my only divers this morning! But it is a beautiful day for a beautiful couple to enjoy the beauty of the Aegaen!” 

Tom wonders how many times he’s said that line to however many different people, but that doesn’t stop himself from smiling because of it. The man, who introduces himself as Tavi, ushers you inside to get you checked in. He’s got all the equipment you need, regulators, fins, masks, BCDs, the list goes on. 

His eyes light up when you both say this isn’t your first dive. “Experienced! Polý kalá!” 

There are lockers along one wall with combination locks. Tavi advises you to strip down to your swimsuits and he opens a locker for you, letting you shove your belongings in your bag and secure it inside. He helps you into your equipment, checking gauges and getting your air tanks hooked up properly. 

“I have an underwater camera as well. I can take pictures of you two while we’re down there.” 

Tom smiles. “Great, thanks mate!”

“You two should remember this! Now, it will be an odd walk to the water,” he chuckles, belly jiggling softly as he laughs. “Do not put your fins on until we get down there. You might fall and not be able to get back up.” 

As Tom stands, BCD strapped across his chest, tank fully hooked up, he’s reminded of how heavy and awkward this equipment is out of the water. He’s sure he’d be able to get back up if he fell, but he’d rather not test that theory. 

You mumble as you stand, hunched over. “Fuck me, I forgot how heavy this stuff is.” 

Tavi laughs, grabbing fins for himself, watching as you two do the same. You get down to the water's edge with minimal struggling. The water is warm, Tom had been slightly apprehensive when Tavi shook his head at the idea of wetsuits, but he was right, this feels like bath water. 

You float out a little, just enough that you can get your fins on. Tavi does one last check of your gauges, has you breathe through your regulators. When he’s satisfied, he goes over the hand gestures so you can communicate safely underwater. 

Regulators secured, masks snug against your face, you slowly descend. 

*

An hour and a half later, you break the water’s surface. Tom peels his mask off, imagining a red pressure ring around his eyes, matching yours. You lock eyes with him and smirk. 

“Tavi?” you ask, looking over to the older men. 

He raises his eyebrows, indicating for you to continue. You swim over to Tom, reaching for him to wrap your arm around his waist as best you can and hold him close. Tom instinctively does the same to you. 

“Take a picture, we have to remember our matching raccoon marks.” 

Tom smiles wide, eyes crinkling as Tavi laughs, reaching for the camera secured around his wrist. He snaps the picture, smiling as you all start your climb back up to his diving shack. 

“I can’t believe you thought that barracuda was a shark!” you say, laughing. 

Tom pouts slightly, pulling the backpack up further on his shoulder as the two of you walk back to your room. “Did you see the teeth on that thing? I didn’t want anything to do with it!” 

You laugh harder, mimicking the movement he’d made under water, something akin to his signature fight reaction when he’s scared. “What?” You giggle some more. “Were you gonna knock it out?”

“That’s what you do! If a shark is coming after you, you punch it!” 

“But it wasn’t a shark! And it wasn’t even coming after you. I hate to break it to you, Tom, but you’re a little bigger than the fish they normally eat.” 

“They’ve bitten people, okay? I was just prepared. You wouldn’t be laughing if it tried to bite me and I punched it. You’d be telling me how smart I was!”

“No, I’d be laughing at the fact that you punched a fish.”

You get back to the room and order a light lunch. It’s already almost 2pm, but you’ll both be weak by dinner if you don’t eat something now. Tom starts to worry about what to wear; your whole family will be there tonight and he wants to look the part. Another piece of him deeply wants their approval as well. 

He lies to you when you ask how many outfits he brought with for this, saying it was only three when in fact, every nice shirt he owns is in this suitcase. He sees you pull a black and white dress out of your bag, hanging it up near the door and looks back into his suitcase. 

You step up behind him, chin on his shoulder. “I like the red one.” 

He turns to look at you, smiling.  “Red it is.” 

You let him shower first and he’s in and out in under five minutes. It’s just past 4pm now and he hears your music start playing through the speaker on your phone as you shut the bathroom door. He hums along while he gets dressed, buttoning up the floral red shirt. He wants your opinion on his pants, though. He’s got some really nice dark denim jeans, but there’s also a white pair of pants. So he heads out onto the terrace in his boxer briefs, shirt not buttoned all the way, leaning against the balcony and watching the water. 

You step up beside him, “Pantless? My family won’t ever forget you.” 

He laughs and he can feel his cheeks heating up a little bit. “I uh — I wanted your opinion on which pants I should wear.”

And you follow him back into the room, watching as he digs out the two options. He turns to you, one in each hand, and his breath catches in his throat for a moment. He didn’t look at you out on the terrace, but here, now. You’ve got your dress on, the top is fitted, extenuating your chest but draping elegantly around your hips. Your hair is still wet and you’ve got no makeup on. Eyes bright and open and happy.

Absolutely stunning.

“White, definitely,” you confirm and for a moment he forgets what you’re talking about. 

He swallows. “Right, white. Sure, thanks.” 

He gets ready quickly, pulling on his pants before fussing with his hair in the mirror over the dresser. You’re back in the bathroom, also fussing with your hair, doing your makeup. You step out about fifteen minutes later. 

“Tom? Will you help me with this clasp for my necklace?”

He nods. “Course, yeah,” and he takes it from you as you turn your back to him. He reaches his arms up and around your neck to let the necklace lay delicately along your sternum. His fingers brush along your skin and he can see the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He fights a smile, liking to see even the smallest reaction of your body to him. 

“Thanks,” you say as his hands fall away, turning back to smile at him. You take a deep breath. “I think we’re ready.”

He nods confidently. “We are, and you look stunning. I mean — I thought you did before, too, when you didn’t have makeup on. Like, you don’t need makeup — uh, not that it's wrong to want to wear it but —”

You laugh, reaching out to grab his forearms to keep them from continuing to flail around his face. “Tom, I get it. Thank you, really. Now, let’s get down there and head straight to the bar.”

The sun is low in the sky as you walk down to the beach and Tom can’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. 

There’s a huge tent set up, sparkling fairy lights hanging beautifully from the ceiling, a portable floor is laid down, tables and chairs placed strategically around a dance floor. There’s a table towards the back where a number of chefs are lining up food for the night. 

“Wow,” Tom mumbles. 

“Ava’s dad is a doctor.” 

Tom hums in understanding, following you into the tent. There are two bar carts in opposite corners of each other. There’s a short man grabbing a glass of whiskey and Tom watches as he sees you, eyes lighting up. He grabs his drink and hurries over to you. 

“Heya, stranger!” he says happily, pulling you into a hug. 

“Vinny! It’s so good to see you again!” And Tom breathes out a sigh of relief. 

Vinny releases you and turns to him. “And you must be Tom, nice to meet ya mate!” 

“Hey Vinny, yeah, nice to meet you too!” And he shakes his hand and then the introductions start. It seems like that simple handshake was enough to alert the whole tent that the two of you had arrived and suddenly they start swarming around you. 

Tom will be honest, he definitely thought you were making your family out to be worse than they actually are. At least he did until he met them. 

First, your Nana Ruth slides in the comment Oh, I thought he’d be taller. And Tom hasn’t been insecure about his height since he was 17, but the comment still causes him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. 

You aren’t perturbed, though. “He’s taller than me, Nana, that’s all I care about.” 

Then he meets your aunt Brigitte. She kisses both your cheeks and he can see the tightness in your face when you try and smile at her. She kisses his cheeks as well and Tom’s skin crawls when she gets a little handsy. 

“Oh he’s very pretty, dear. How did he wind up with you?” she says, laughing. 

Tom wants to slap the lipstick right off of this woman’s face. 

“Lucky, I guess,” you comment, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bar. 

“I’m gonna smack that woman into next Tuesday if she says something like that about you again.” He growls into your ear, hands curling into fists at his side. 

You look at him and it’s a look that catches him off guard. He’d expected you to be mad, annoyed, or upset in some way. But you’re looking at him with so much affection he feels a little light-headed. His hands automatically relax as your fingers slide down his forearm so you can link your fingers with his. 

“I would pay good money to see you hit her.”

Louis corners Tom as you’re all about to have dinner, asking what he thinks of the Prime Minister and Tom side steps into how well Liverpool is playing. You smile at him and let Louis go into it for a moment before interrupting him about the dinner starting soon. Louis promises to find Tom later so he can tell him about how Bayern has definitely been playing dirty all season. 

Ava and Alex hug you both and Tom relaxes around the two of them. He knows them, he likes them. They sit and Ava is adamant that you sit next to her and you gladly do, Tom taking the obvious spot next to you. A moment later, he recognizes your parents at the opposite end of the table. Your dad raises his drink at Tom and Tom returns the gesture. 

One thing you left out when talking about your family was how big it was. There’s a sea of unknown faces around him, asking questions and leaning over the table to get a look at him. He feels like a stud being inspected at auction. 

Your hand falls softly onto his lap and he breathes easier as he wraps his fingers around yours. Dinner is served, but Tom has trouble finding time to eat because the questions don’t stop. 

How did you two meet?

What do you do for a living?

Where did you grow up?

How long have you two been together?

And Tom doesn’t mind answering them all because he likes talking about your relation—  friendship. Your friendship. 

Brigitte opens her mouth again and Tom tenses before any words even leave her lips. 

“I am surprised that the two of you are an item. She’s just kind of plain. Never really seemed all that into the boys either.”

Her twit of a husband agrees. “Yeah, we always thought she was one of those asexuals.” And he says it like he’s talking about a unicorn. Like it’s something that doesn’t actually exist. 

And Tom can’t believe what he’s hearing. The fact that people this idiotic are still spewing ignorant, condescending hate makes him want to yell. But he’s smart enough to know you can’t argue with stupid. 

Then he remembers a comment you made the night before, you’re gonna have to make a dirty joke to shut them up.

He turns to you, eyes locking with yours, because he doesn’t need to say this to them. He needs to say this to you. Because you’re the only person that needs to hear this. 

“I guess she was just waiting for something that was worth it?” he starts. “Whatever it is, she’s amazing, the most genuine person I’ve ever met. She makes me so damn happy. And I might have helped trigger something in her, something that let her bring her guard down and let me inside.”

He’s looking at you as he speaks, and it feels so real. He can see the emotions swimming in your eyes, his hand in yours. He can feel the eyes of your family on the two of you but he can’t stop looking at you, and you’re staring back, smiling at him.

His voice gets louder now though because this is the part they need to hear. “And she did let me inside, she does let me inside…” His eyebrows raise for a moment, to help accentuate the dirty joke. “Pretty frequently actually.”

And you smile wider, laughing as you hear the uncomfortable noises from Brigitte and Joe, the gasp from Nana, the murmur around the table of what did he just say? You lean in, and so he does as well, pressing his lips to yours, but it’s hard to keep the kiss going because neither of you can stop smiling. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel room.” And he’s not sure he heard you correctly. The question has to be written across his face, but he can’t ask it, not now. So he keeps smiling, keeps squeezing your hand. 

The comments cease after that. And he can feel your relief, like you’re a thousand pounds lighter. Apparently a dirty joke is all it takes. 

Dinner ends and you’re coerced into staying for one more drink. He enjoys himself nonetheless. Mostly because you’re on his arm throughout the night, your demeanor light and happy. 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom after the first drink and Tom finds Vinny and your father, two people he actually enjoys talking to. The conversation revolves around the wedding and your dive that morning. He leaves out the fact he almost punched a barracuda, of course. He’d gotten enough grief from you alone. 

He’s got a new drink in his hand when you find him again later and he smiles a little sheepishly. Licking his lips, he says, “Your dad brought me another drink. I didn’t know if you wanted to stay longer, so we can split this or I can just give it to Vinny and we can go.” 

You’re smiling up at him like he just over offered you the crown jewels. He’s not entirely sure what it is that he’s done to keep you smiling at him like that, but he’s certain he isn’t going to stop. You lean in to kiss his cheek, but he feels you hesitate, pulling away slowly.

He turns to you, watching you tilt your head, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw softly and trail your thumb along across his cheek. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

“Oh. Nothing, just smeared my lipstick on your cheek,” you explain, wiping it away. “Let’s go back to the room.”

He agrees easily, passing the beer off to Vinny on his way out the door. You go through the motions of saying good night to everyone, hugs and kisses and jokes. And then you pull him along quickly to get back to the room. He’s laughing lightly as he lets you drag him along. 

“What’s the rush?” he asks when you reach your room. You unlock the door and step inside, tossing your purse onto one of the chaise lounges.

“Did you mean that, what you said at dinner? I mean, would you still have said that if we weren’t here faking a relationship?”

He blinks, caught off guard, he presses his lips together as he locks the door behind him. He turns back to you. “Yeah,” he pauses, rubbing his lips together, “Yeah, I meant it.”

You nod. “Yeah, I thought you did.” Then you reach for him, taking his hand and pulling him into the room. “I think it’s time I thank you, Tom.” 

_____________________________________________

Taglist: 

@xximaweirdoxx @selfcarecapmain @billythebully09 @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @honeymarvel @lovinnholland @oh-annaa @little-miss-naill @holland-in-disguise @wordless08 @multifandomgirl-us @fangirlfree @theolwebshooter @headlights95 @thirsttrapholland @ablazeofhope @hazmyheart @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @afterglownights @hollandbitch @delicately-important-trash @parkersvibes @averyfosterthoughts @mskatharinawho @crazyfreaker @thsummersoldier @lolobxtch @peterparkoure @hpnjrph @likeit-or-leaveit @spidxrparkxr @caretheunicorn @peterpstuff @spiderdudetom @sltwins @loxbbg @tomshufflepuff @spideyyeet @sir-thatscannibalism @ladystrombwick @terrifictomholland @caturdwy @lauras-collection @hollandtomholland @hollandcreep @uncookspaget @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @clara-licht @seudedreams

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #erotas #my writing

[bracketsoffear]

The Diver's Clothes Lie Empty (Vendela Vida) "The whole plot is about a woman who goes on vacation, loses her documents and decides to roll with it, acquiring new identities through a series of questionable decisions. She gets someone else's passport and credit cards, moves into a different hotel, gets hired as a double of a famous actress, introduces herself with false names, and is very paranoid about being found out. We never learn her actual name, but we do learn that she has always disliked her face and has always tried to choose activities that would draw attention away from her face, so she can pretend it's not even there."

Secrets of the Shopping Mall (Richard Peck) "Trying to escape the vicious King Kobra gang and troubled life at home, eighth graders Barnie and Teresa flee the city. With only four dollars between them, they hop a bus, hoping to find a new life at the end of the line. Destination: Paradise Park. But Paradise Park turns out to be a cement-covered suburban shopping mall--not quite the paradise they had hoped for.

With no money and no home to retum to, they are forced to stay. And paradise park takes them in--in more ways than one. Barnie and Teresa spend their days and nights in the climate-controlled consumer paradise of a large department store. And just when they think they can live there unnoticed forever, Teresa and Barnie find that even Paradise Park has its secrets. Even in the dead of night, they are far from alone…." (Spoilers under the cut)

Secrets of the Shopping Mall, cont.: It's not actually living mannequins, but dispossessed and mildly insane teens who dress as mannequins and stand perfectly still all day to avoid detection! Which… I'm not sure is much better.

#stranger poll #the stranger #poll #the magnus archives #leitner tournament #the diver's clothes lie empty #vendela vida #Secrets of the Shopping Mall #Richard Peck

[yeoldontknow]

Hi! First off thank you for your amazing oneshots i enjoy them very much. Also how do you feel about writing in 2nd person? I personally want to get back to FF writing but i find it awkward unless it's OC and third person. Any tips?

hey there! thanks so much for reading my work! im so happy you enjoy them. i actually really love writing in second person. i spent the majority of my fanfic writing career in other fandoms writing in first or third person, which is comfortable and fun. and tbh sometimes i feel like my writing is better when im writing in those voices, simply because its natural and has a bit more impact. but second person was always something i wanted to explore in fanfic, and in my previous fandoms the focus was not on reader insert so i didnt think it was something that could be done. im a huge huge fan of books like bright lights big city / the diver’s clothes lie empty / the night circus all of which are written in second person. this voice has been on my mind for a while. old lit professors will often tell you that writing in second person is equated to generally bad writing, but i dont think thats true. not even remotely. its not natural but its also not bad. it just takes practice. i can honestly say that writing in second person has made me focus more on details and sensations - im way more grounded in my senses than i was before i started writing in this voice, and thats a good thing.

im not sure i have any tips, not any voice specific ones. i approach writing in this voice the same way i approach writing in third or first - they require the same amount of story planning, the same amount of plot focus. and again i think the only difference is my focus on the senses rather than specific person centered details. i try, as best i can in many cases, to make my characters rich in personality and sense/emotions to make up for the lack of like...character specific descriptions. my goal is to have anyone pick up my fic and be able to imagine themselves there - hence why i dont describe clothes (and if i do, i dont mention color as not all colors look best on skin tone), i dont usually mention hair, etc etc. the only times i will mention bodily descriptions are if im alluding to the yn being plus size. and if the fic is yn as an ambiguous gender, then its really just bodily senses and emotions. maybe i take reader insert too seriously, but i try to make it so anyone could pick up my fic and feel like theyre there without being pulled out due to a jarring descriptor or feeling like ‘oh well, they look like that so its not me.’ in many cases, most people read fic assuming yn is actually an oc and they enjoy it just the same.

idk this is just how i approach it. this is the only difference in character development. like my yn characters will have specific ages and or experiences, the same way an oc would. it just means theyre described differently. i know this isnt entirely helpful lmao but i do hope it gives you a spring board!

#on writing #raisswrites

[a-really-bi-girl]

How do you sleep when you lie to me? - Keanu Reeves Part 2

Part 1 

“Sir you have to leave, you are making a scene,” a guard told Keanu as he stepped over the yellow line. “I won’t lose her, I can’t,” Keanu says as he sees you walking away. 

Keanu grabs his phone and dialled a familiar number. While he walked towards the caps he places his phone against his head. “Good Morning Keanu,” a voice said on the other side of the line. 

Keanu greeted his manager but couldn’t finish his sentence because of the paparazzi that was walking towards him. Questions about new projects, Arch Sarah and you were fired at him as he stepped into the car

“Keanu, what’s going on?” his manager asked as Keanu closed the door.

“Where to start?”Keanu sighs. 

—

The sound of the waves echoed in your ears as you laid on the private beach that came with the house. The warm sun hits your body as you turn around to lay on your stomach.

It was the first time in ages that you weren’t crying or sad about what happened. You felt empty as you fall asleep. 

You could feel Keanu’s warm arms wrapped around your body as he pulls you into his bed. “Keanu!” you laugh out as he presses you into his mattes. “Let me make love to you,” Keanu says as he places divers butterfly kisses over your body.

You giggled and turned the two of you around. “Cheesy much,” you say as you straddle him underneath you. “Only for you”, he replies as he pulls you into a kiss.

A smile formed onto your plump lips as his hands travel over your body towards your ass. Keanu presses you against his growing erection as your hands travel over his chest. “I’m all yours,” Keanu says as he smirks at you.

When you matched his smirk you pressed your hips against him, causing him to feel your warm core. Your hands trail over his chest towards is a long scar. While you rid him you traced the lines of his scar.

“You drive me crazy when you do that baby,” Keanu said with a low voice as he looks up at you.

“Why do you think I do it?”  You ask him teasingly before you place a soft kiss on his lips. Keanu smiles sadly when you break the kiss. “Is there something wrong?

“No of course not Baby,” Keanu said while his hands travel over your back. “Keanu, don’t you lie to me. Is something troubling you?” you asked him. 

 Sarah found him at a party last night and she wouldn’t leave him alone, so Keanu left earlier to get home to you.

“No there is nothing wrong,” Keanu said after placing a kiss on your lips. “Well there is one thing,” he said. “ and that is?” You asked him caringly.

“You are wearing too many clothes.”” Keanu jokes as he turns you around. you giggle at his action and your laugh felt like music to his ears.

His hands roam your body as he takes your string between his teeth. while looking into your eyes he pulled it down your legs.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you felt him between your legs. Keanu felt proud when he heard your moan and saw that your cheeks were flushed.

Once your sting was out he threw it in the wash basket behind him. He smiled goofy as he saw that your string landed into the basket, and with this smile, he turned around to the woman in his bed.

Keanu froze when he locked eyes with Sarah. “Come on Keanu, make love to me,” She said as her hands roamed her body.

“No no no,” Keanu said as he walked away from the bed. A loud bang woke Keanu as he fell out of his bed and his sticky sheets stuck to his bode

He had been having nightmares ever since you left, waking up angry or crying. He was mad at himself, he should have told you that Sarah was stalking him. Maybe he could have prevented all this from happening.

Keanu found out that Sarah had been planning this for a long time, multiple articles popped up online the second she kissed him. Photos of when she stalked him were released, making it seem like they were hiding their relationship.

Keanu grabs the polaroid picture on his nightstand and trailed your face. You made this picture a few weeks ago in the forest near his house. You were in his arms as he kissed you. 

After the picture was made you stumbled over a tree branch, causing you and Keanu to fall to the ground. Keanu couldn’t stop with laughing as you apologised and removed the leaves from his hair.

“One more day”

—-

Bright sunlight landed in your eyes when you slowly woke up. Your head hurt from the alcohol and your feet from dancing through the night. Your dress smelled like beer and sweat. “Gross” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off. 

Wobbling you walked towards the shower. while turning the shower on you took off your dress, throwing it into one of your bags.

You soaped your body in with some shower gel as your mind went back to how Keanu used to wash your body. How his big and strong hand would press your back against his chest, how his thumbs would circle around your nipples as you rubbed your body against his.

His goofy smile that appeared when he made your body shake. You missed him, you wanted him back, but you knew you couldn’t. He made his choice and it wasn’t you. 

You taught about Sarah and the first and only time you met her at a party. She said that she was a huge fan of you and you talked for a while when Keanu walked to you and whispered into your ear that he wanted to go her eyes changed.

She looked at you like you just stole her men and the feeling she gave you drove you crazy. You quickly said goodbye to her before walking into the night with Keanu. He gave you his jacket that night as he brought you to your apartment.

Your mind wandered off, back to that night. But before you could dream off into your memories a loud bang interrupted you.

“Get out off the shower there is something you need to see” Alex jelled.

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #Keanu Reeves

[elenatria]

All Boris wanted was to make Valera smiled.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824418/chapters/48082636

They hadn’ttalked in days.

Boris’ mind,still numb from a dreamless sleep, slowly drifted into that harsh realization justas the August sun rose above the abandoned apartment blocks of Pripyat. Heglanced at his weary reflection as his razor gathered foam along hisjawline.

There was notalking between them anymore, not if it wasn’t absolutely necessary like goingthrough medical reports and readings on isotope emissions. Boris caught Valerypuffing nervously at his smokes, squishing one cigarette butt after the other whilea soldier handed him a large folder, probably an X-ray. He didn’t know whoseX-ray that was or where it came from but it certainly wasn’t Valery’s – hehadn’t gone to Kiev for treatment in weeks. The Ukrainian noticed the furrowedbrow under his colleague’s thick glasses, the anticipated horror in his slackjaw, but he didn’t dare make questions - Valery made sure to instantly wrap thefolder under his arm and walk on as if nothing had happened, like a man fearingthe judgement of a million stares.

You worktoo hard, Valery.

He wouldn’t appreciatethe intrusion anyway. As a matter of fact, Valery didn’t appreciate anyapproach that dared touch on anything more than procedural matters. He’d ratherspend his mornings fiddling with his silver lighter as he sank into his ownprivate pit of despair, sucking in clouds of smoke until the cigarette scorchedhis fingers and the ash burned holes through the sheets of his bunk, than showhis face in the hotel’s coffee shop and share a cup of tea and scrambled eggswith the politician.

All of Boris’attempts to make amends the past few weeks had failed miserably. Valerywouldn’t answer the phone if it wasn’t absolutely urgent, he would deny anyoffer to have a glass of vodka with him and night time walks were strictly outof the question. Valery claimed he didn’t want to breathe in any moreradioactive dust than was necessary but that was an unashamed lie. He couldspare a half hour with Boris if he really wanted to because—

Because he wasa goddamn scientist, that’s why. Because he knew very well that avoidingexposure for a few minutes wouldn’t make any difference.

Because he knew,yet he pretended he actually cared about himself.

You miserableliar.

Boris sensedhe was being punished - but for what, he didn’t know.

Probably forbeing a statesman, he reckoned. For doing his job. For obeying orders.

For caring.

Things werebound to change when Major General Tarakanov arrived at the Exclusion Zone. Borishad Stepanov call Valery in his room – somehow that impossible nerd could sensewhen Boris himself was making the call and never picked up the phone. Yegvenysaid that professor Legasov couldn’t meet him at the coffee shop or the lobby.

“Tell him I’llmeet him there.”

Boris gnashedhis teeth.

Fine.

It wasawkward. They had to share the same trailer, the same desk, the same smell ofstale air. Not that this wasn’t their daily procedure week after exhaustingweek since they got there but after their serious quarrel on the exclusion zonethey avoided spending too much time alone. There usually were soldiers, workersor other scientists around them but that morning Valery was too agitated to thinkabout shielding himself properly behind people. It was just the two of themagain going through maps, aerial photos and empty packs of Sochinskiyecigarettes.

Boris recalledthe promise he had made himself as he wiped the razor on his towel that morning;to not let his eyes linger on Valery’s pale features more than necessary, to refrainfrom counting every freckle, every dimple, every scar. He had promised to not picturehis own lips gliding purposely, hungrily over each curve and crevice, drinkingin Valery’s smothered pants, searching, probing, violating the sweetness of himwith his tongue each time the redheaded man, deprived of all clothes, rank and dignity,parted his lips for a gasp of air.

B-Boris

oh

He knew hecould fuck him breathless just to feel the air leave his lungs in whimpers and obscene,unrestrained cries of relief.

What are you—

uh

you fuckme so well, you fuck—

AH

 Enough.

Enough.

Boris shuthis eyes. He didn’t need this anymore. He didn’t need him.

He hadpromised to not miss another heartbeat anticipating a glint of joy in Valery’seyes if he ever brought him good news again. Valery didn’t smile when thedivers came back triumphant. He didn’t smile when the fire was out. He wouldn’tsmile now.

Boris wasdone hoping, and he was done smiling for both of them. How could he make a manhappy, a man who had forgotten what a smile was?

Valery’sfingers were almost shaking as he arranged the reports and photos on stacks andBoris knew he was looking for more than order on that chaotic desk before thegeneral arrived.

He was afterhis pack. Any pack. One more cigarette. A single smoke would be enough.

Valery was onthe brink of a panic attack; he was frantically patting on his chest and hips,every pocket on his body, kneeling under the dusty table, dragging open drawersand emptying them on the floor. Boris winced and tried to focus instead on themap on the wall as Valery started muttering, cursing through his teeth for agoddamn cigarette, fiery red hair in disarray, sweat dripping endlessly onnotes and sketches on the desk.

Look athim. He can’t.

You can’t—

Don’t giveup on him. Not yet.

Another violentbanging of the drawers; Valery rose and turned on his heel avoiding Boris’ puzzledstare as he dragged trembling fingers through his loose strands - but Boris wasn’tlooking anymore. He jerked slightly toward the desk. Maybe—

Maybe he sawsomething there, something Valery hadn’t seen, a trace of glossy red with whitestars on it.

So thereyou are. Thank God.

Sochinskiye. Sucha fuss over such a tiny little thing.

He heaved adeep sigh and pushed away the ruler and stack of photocopies to reveal the losttreasure underneath. He held up the half-empty pack, glaring at Valery.

“Here…” herasped tossing that useless bundle of dried leaves, tar and paper at him. “Yourcandy. Don’t cry anymore, it breaks my heart.”

The scientistgrabbed the precious find mid-air just as it was about to bounce on his nose. Helet out one long exhale and straightened the hair on his sweaty forehead,giving Boris the briefest of smiles before he started searching his pocket fora lighter. Or maybe he was smiling at the few smokes he had found in that pack.His sole source of happiness.

“Thanks…” hebreathed.

“Is that allit takes to make you smile?” Boris pondered bitterly and peered through thewindow as Major General Tarakanov’s jeep halted in front of their trailer.

Maybe Ishould get you a whole carton then.

#valoris #valery legasov #boris shcherbina #valoris fanfiction #chernobyl #ao3 #ignorant hard-working bastard #cigarettes for breakfast #chapter 5 #jared harris

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

CALM Lyrics

Below are the lyrics from each song (including Bonus Tracks) that were sent in or hand picked by me. Some lyrics may be abbreviated.

Putting a read more because the list is long.

Red Desert

Red, red desert, heal our blues

Twilight moments with you

I’ve been asleep so long, I’m so far away

Won’t you leave all your fears at the edge of the world?

Tell me would you back up all your bags, stay true to North?

It doesn’t take too long to heal and replaces

The demons we’re running from, they’re begging to stay

No Shame

Angel, with a gun in your hand

Love is fatal, won’t you give it a chance?

light me like a cigarette/ Even if it might be somethin’ you’ll regret

Never enough and no satisfaction

Changing my face and calling it fashion

When you’re cravin’ somethin’ sweeter than the words I left in your mouth/Go on and spit me out

Old Me

Left my lovers lonely/ Had to fucking it before I really got know me

No one could control me,

Never a night alone, anywhere you wanna go/ Woke up in the mornin’ wearin’ someone else’s clothes/ pictures in my phone with people I don’t know/ Woke up in the morning, how the hell’d I make it home?

I would do it over now, I’d do it over

All of the mistakes I made, I made, I made, I made/ Whatever the price I paid, I paid, I paid, I paid.

Another round, here we go, going in blow for blow/ Look into the mirror, take the punches that I throw

While I wondered if I’d ever, if I’d ever get enough

Devil at my door/ got me knockin’, knockin’ knockin’ on the other side/ ashes on the floor

Easier

I know I’m never, ever gonna change/ And you know you don’t want it any other way

Do we always gotta run away/ when we wind up in the same place

Do we really gotta do this now?/ Right here with all your friends around

I love you so much that I hate you

It’s so hard to blame you because you’re so damn beautiful

Is it easier to stay? Is it easier to go?

I know what I’m never, ever gonna change and you know you don’t want it any other way

The hardest part of all/ Is that we’re only built to fall

Teeth

The only thing that’s burning when the nights grow cold

Sometimes, you’re a stranger in my bed

Don’t know if you love me or you want me dead/ Push me away, push me away

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Don’t know if I’m going to make it out alive

Fight to dirty, love so sweet/ Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth/ Late night devil, put your hands on me

Some days, you’re the best thing in my life/ Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

Wildflower

I love the sound, I love the taste

You got a side you can’t explain

You know you’re my favorite fantasy

I’ll tell you what I like

I see the color in your veins

I like its look, and I like its shape

Best Years

But darling, the future’s better than yesterday/I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you/ Gave you a million reasons to walk away

I’ll build a house out of the mess and all the broken pieces

Past love, burned out like a cigarette/ I promise, darling, you won’t regret

You did all these things when I was half a man for you

Not in the Same Way

Rip my heart out and leave/ On the floor, watch me bleed

Mascara’s runnin’ down your face again

I walk out the door, but you won’t let me let go

I’m wakin’ up to my mistakes again/ I know you love to point them out/ Baby I’m sick of sadness and you’re sick of Xanax/ We’re good at this game, game

I know you think I’m bulletproof/ But you know how to hurt me too

In the dark, we’re black and white/ In the morning, colorblind/ Leave your mark with every bite

Lover of Mine

Kaleidoscope mind, gets in the way

Butterfly lies, chase them away

Dancing around the living room/ Lose me in the sight of you/ I’ve seen the red, I’ve seen the blue

Swallow every single lie/ take all of me

I’ll never give you away/ ‘cause I’ve already made that mistake

When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes/ You’re the only thing I think I got right

Lover of mine, I know you’re colorblind/ I watched the world fall from yours eyes

Thin White Lies

I don’t feel your love/ But I don’t ask too many questions

When the sun goes down, we all get lonely

These empty sounds and endless stories

Killin’ me slow with the words you wrote/ The heart you broke, the heart you broek

You never call me out/ You know exactly where I’m goin’ / You got me by the mouth

I don’t think I like me anymore/ Can someone tell me who I was before?/I don’t really like me anymore

Lonely Heart

Down on my knees I’ll always follow/ I promise you until the end of time

Our house on fire, we’re burnin’/ We dance inside, you’re hurtin’/ If you leave me in the mornin’

You’re precious heart, can’t watch it break, so I close my eyes while you walk away

Can I have a second chance?/ Can I have another dance?/ Can I start another life with you?

High

I know your friends all lie/ I know your friends don’t like me/ They want you for themselves

Today I’ve called to tell you that I’m changing/ But I don’t think you have enough respect to see me try/ I’ve been waking up in different space

I think my heart was built to last more than a night

I know I’ll never meet your expectations/ But the picture that you paint of me looks better in your mind

 Kill My Time

Wildflower, fingertips on me

Stained hearts trying to find a home/ Looking for something real

I said meet me downtown at a diver bar/ You’re the only one that makes me feel alive/ I can’t keep drowning in the shadows

I don’t wanna kill my time with somebody else/ Dancing in the dark till the sun comes

In a city full of lonely people I just/ Want you all to myself

He’s only got half your heart/ ‘Cause I’ve got the other part

Take you on a desert drive

Why don’t you say goodbye now?

#5sos #CALM #5sos CALM #michael clifford #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #lyrics #5 seconds of summer

[infinitesplinters]

There’s Nothing Safe About Being Here

Lucky are the feet covered lift & grain, claw to my own lie I can’t speak any further I say goodbye. The green eye mess having every face I made up from the rise of grief my own hands look like tears. What was mess and in cups was nothing but counting air. The spade sliced high through the trunk, the river of thought that times. What’s aware in freckle: the diver’s nose between how I was & how I am being, parenthetic living, hot springs under the dead coals my dead clothes I wore night after night. Where can I move that you won’t? Someone stabs me from behind, I’m holding. Yes, I got it. Capsized wet kettle friends, the tincture of burning sands & psalms, carried on my own human shoulders, weak: broke the strings from missing the point. I can’t hold this image, I can’t press my face tighter to the glass to see, the snow covers my legs. Popcorn in the teeth. Luxury cinnamon toothpicks & change not from mine, into this canopy. The mine’s emptying, refilled by the dawn, by the backward, dark hurricane, barking soft syllables, mind has raising, torque, the floating of florescence marks spelling what ain’t hope begging our breath knowing our favor moving our passion sake silencing our dust in woke compelling our fever soak what fades away what will always stay.

#poem #poetry #recovery #spilled ink