#boating instructor things

[sadiehaleheart]

I'm watching Love Sea, and while I can cheerfully suspend disbelief for most shows on this Thai QL kick (the scale of urban street racing in Love in the Air, magical realism, how many people hand-feed their cats with the label facing out)...

I draw the line at water safety!! Wear a life jacket when boating, always, I'm sure you can find cute matching ones! The inflate on impact ones aren't the safest, but they're practically a harness, so aesthetically you're set! Confirm people are scuba certified before letting them dive! Have a dive buddy!! Ahh!

[rafeacs]

Best Friend Rafe x Reader Boat Day

Warnings: None (yet), fluff, soft rafe, yearning

“AH! What are you doing here?!” You screamed in utter fright as you stepped into your room, only to see Rafe lying on your bed. You were fresh from the shower and not at all expecting a presence to be waiting for you. 

“You haven’t seen me in a week, and that’s how you greet me?” Rafe questioned as he sat up, resisting a smirk to rise on his lips as you were only covered by a skimpy white towel. You roll your eyes and sigh, a smile coming to your lips, moving to your vanity to do your after-shower rituals, not at all conscious of your lack of clothing because you and your best friend Rafe were used to such scenes. 

“Seriously, what are you doing here?” You questioned, eyes locking with ocean one through the mirror where Rafe studied you as you lathered your face with differing products. “I haven’t seen you in a week. What? You didn’t miss me at all?” He raised his brow, and you laughed at the pretend hurt on his face. “How were the Bahamas?” You asked and stood, disregarding his question, and instead went to your closet to find something to wear. “Fine. It’d be better if you came,” He shrugged and peaked as you tried to decide what to wear. Catching the way you bent down to wear your underwear and shorts, your body still covered by a towel. Any sense of boundaries in your friendship seemed to disappear after years of knowing one another. Rafe smirked as you stepped out of your closet wearing one of his shirts that you stole from him. 

You sat next to him in bed, “It was a family vacation; I didn’t want to impose.” You shrugged. “So what’d you do while I was away? Sniff my shirts because you just miss me that much?” You scoffed a laugh and rolled your eyes at the smirk on his lips. “Sure, yeah, I just stared into your picture, counting down the days until you came back.” You went along with his bit. Rafe bit his lip and hoped you were telling the truth, but alas, he could only dream. 

“No, I uh— I mostly just stayed home, baked a bit. And played tennis; there’s a new instructor at the club; he’s cute— really great at tennis, too.” Rafe was quick to grow tense at your words, jealousy quickly spiking in him. “But he’s gay, so…” You added, and that eased the green-eyed monster in him. “Hm, what you wanna do today?” Rafe asked, wanting to change the subject. 

“Mm… I dunno, I kinda want to go to the beach.” You say, and Rafe nodded, “Then let’s go,” he quickly said. “But I also kinda just wanna hang out here,” You said, indecisive. “Then let’s hang out here,” Rafe responded, willing to do anything just as long you were in his company. You sighed and pursed your lips. “I don’t know, you pick!” You exclaimed, Rafe amused by your inability to make even the most measliest of decisions. 

“Wanna go on the boat? We could sail around, get some food, and catch the sunset,” He proposed and smiled as you eagerly nodded. Going to your closet to change your attire once more, Rafe shuffled in your room to get one of your bags and pack some things he knew you would need. “What book do you want?” He asked as he placed some towels in your bag, already anticipating you’d want to bring a book for the day, as you always did. “The one by my nightstand!” You yelled from the closet, trying to decide what color bathing suit to wear. Rafe took the book into his hand and smiled as he saw that you used a photo booth picture of the two of you as your bookmark.

Rafe squired you around town, getting the necessary things for your day in the boat—a lunch from your favorite restaurant and a pint of your favorite ice cream. When you arrived at the marina, Rafe could practically feel your excitement. He was quick to disembark his truck and open the door for you, swinging your bag on his shoulder as he escorted you to his family’s boat. As the sun rose higher and higher and the view of the island drew further, you and Rafe decided to have your lunch, but before the two of you could eat, you stepped and appeared with a giant thing of sunscreen in your hands. 

“I wanna eat,” Rafe grumbled as you sat next to him, placing sunscreen on his face. Your soft hands sent chills down his spine no matter how blaring the island sun was. He kept on complaining, saying he didn’t need sunscreen, but it did nothing to hinder you from traveling your hands along his chest and back as you applied for protection from the sun. “Men don’t need sunscreen,” Rafe grumbled as he watched you apply more of the lotion on his forearms. “You say that, but even men are not immune to melanoma,” You chirped, “Okay, all done!” You said you applied sunscreen to yourself as well; Rafe was waiting for you to finish before he started to eat. 

“Can you get my back?” You innocently asked, handing Rafe the tube. Rafe swallowed as you turned your back to him. Trying not to succumb to his urges because it would surely be obvious from the swimming trunks he wore. Rafe messaged the sunscreen on your back and marveled at how soft your skin was, resisting his urges to ‘accidentally’ pull the string of your bikini top and let his fingers trail further your frame. “Al— All done,” Rafe struggled to say after a moment, taking his time to spread the lotion all over your back, savoring each moment you let him touch your skin. 

You nodded and settled to his side as they both started to have lunch, but first, you took out a baby wipe and cleaned your hands. Rafe smiled fondly as you held his hands to clean them. He just loved how you fussed over him, how you were the only one who genuinely cared about his well-being. 

The afternoon was spent with you and Rafe lounging on the deck of the boat. Rafe pointed your view to the setting sun, and your back was settled against his chest as you read him your book. Rafe had no idea about the words you uttered. All he focused upon was the feel of your frame flushed against his, your voice that soothed his mind, and the fantasy that perhaps one day, you two could be more than just mere best friends. 

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 3

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

ED mentions.

Parts:

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

When you wake in the morning, Regina is already gone. She’s probably gone to meet with Karen and Gretchen for breakfast, pushing food around her plate more like. You’ve noticed some of your leftovers have gone missing, you don’t mind though. At least it means she’s eating something.

You’re not sure why she seems to relax around you enough to eat, something she can’t seem to do around her supposed best friends.

You have to remind yourself you aren’t her friend but the sketch is still neatly folded under her pillow, whatever that means.

You have a quick shower, throw on some jeans and a band tee and go to the campfire pit to hear what activity you’ll have to do today. It might mean being paired with Regina again, although she acts like a completely different person with you in public. You can see straight through her act. The more you see of her, the more you realise she’s not cruel, bitchy or formidable. She’s scared and a little insecure.

“Today half of you will be boating and half of you will be climbing! Cabins 1-6 follow me and cabins 7-12 meet your leader at the high ropes in 5 minutes!” The instructor calls.

Fuck no.

You try and sneak away slowly, if there’s one thing you’re afraid of, it’s heights. Maybe you can sneak off with the boating group, that sounds less scary, and safer.

It doesn’t work, Mrs Norbury catches you and sends you off in the direction of the high ropes. It’s not like they can force you to climb, right?

They’re laughing about something, you can’t tell what. Maybe Regina’s already making fun of you, maybe she’s gone through your bags to find anything embarrassing to tell her best friends. Maybe she’s taken a photograph of your sketch to prove you’re a loser, freak or whatever. She did similar to Janis, what’s stopping her from doing the same to you?

Maybe not.

You think you saw a glimpse of the real Regina underneath all the pink and glitter, last night.

An instructor calls out that the session is starting. For once this week you stop thinking about Regina.

You can already feel your heartbeat in your ears as you approach the climbing frame. You’re instructed on how to correctly fit your harnesses and told to line up and go over one at a time across the high ropes.

It was like an assault course in the air. First some wooden stepping stones, then walking across a tightrope with just a rope above to balance yourself, and then finally a zip line. You felt your stomach flip, there had to be a way out. You couldn’t have Regina see you having a full-blown panic attack.

Regina is just in front of you in the queue, she doesn’t turn to look at you even once. You’re slightly hurt but not surprised. It’s not like one evening of civility means she could be seen with you in public.

The plastics climb up and start to walk across. Gretchen and Karen walk in front, screaming and giggling the whole way. Regina saunters across, nothing phases her. As she climbs across the rope you can see the muscles under her pink crop top tensing, it makes you momentarily forget about what you have to do until the instructor calls out that it’s your turn next.

Okay, just breathe and whatever you do, don’t look down.

You climb up to the top platform. It’s just a walk across some stable wooden platforms. You can do this. You stare straight ahead, ignoring the thumping of your heart, your hands clammy against the ropes. As long as you don’t look down you’ll be fine.

By some miracle you make it across. The next obstacle is a walk across a tightrope. This one makes you cold sweat.

You start to shake more. Regina is already across the other side standing and waiting to go across the next obstacle. She still looks like a goddess, and you probably look like a sweaty mess. For the first time today she turns and looks at you, her expression is hard to work out, maybe pity? Probably amusement.

You put one foot tentatively on the rope and hold for dear life onto the top rope. You shuffle across in an ungraceful manner. Hopefully Regina has turned her back by now. This would definitely be blackmail material.

Every time the rope moves you feel like you’ll fall, any second you could faint, or throw up, or maybe have a heart attack.

You edge closer to the finishing platform, you can see the edge of it and make the mistake of looking down.

The ground becomes blurry and feels like it’s 3,000 feet away.

Your stomach lurches and your foot slips.

Desperation fills you and without thinking you desperately reach your hand out, hoping Regina will grab It, pull you back up and you won’t feel that dreaded falling sensation.

Instead she shoves you.

Hard.

You fall from the rope, your heart nearly stops and you can’t open your eyes. The harness catches you but you’ve swung sideways from the rope and the force of Regina’s push makes you come crashing back, your hip colliding with the wooden platform.

The pain is immediate, and searing.

An instructor lowers you down and a teacher demands that Regina comes down too to take you to first aid.

She does this begrudgingly, her little minions whining that it’s not fair that she has to pay the price when you ‘just slipped.’

You don’t look at her or speak to her on your way to first aid. With every step your hip explodes with pain. You try not to show how hard it is to walk. This wasn’t the same Regina you hung out with last night.

Never show your weakness to a predator. That was your first mistake.

“ I wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t try to touch me.” She spat, staring at the ground as you walked. Was she ashamed?

“Whatever Regina. I don’t care.” You sigh, wincing again as you step.

She huffs and rolls her eyes at you as you finally make it to first aid. She leaves you at the door.

The first aider confirms that she doesn’t think it’s fractured or broken. Just badly bruised. When she asks what happened you lie and say you slipped. She doesn’t buy it but she doesn’t push any further. She gives you some pain medicine and an ice pack and suggests you go and rest for a bit in your cabin.

You go back and lie in your bed on your back with the ice pack slowly melting away at your hip, making the sheets wet and cold.

Luckily Regina is out somewhere, she’s probably snuck off to one of the plastics cabins.

It’s not like you care anyway.

You decide not to get dinner today. The thought of limping all the way to the campfire sounds awful and you don’t want to give Regina the satisfaction of knowing she hurt you so you try and get some sleep.

Your phone buzzes and lights up on the nightstand. It’s Janis.

“Heeey Dude! How’s the school trip? Wait why are you in bed it’s not even late” the voice of your best friend rings out down the phone.

“Long story, I slipped climbing.” You don’t know why you lie to Janis. You don’t feel like talking about Regina.

You know that despite them being on civil terms now, Janis and Regina still held a grudge respectively. Secretly you knew Janis definitely still had a crush on her, not that she’d ever admit it. At first you didn’t understand why Janis would fall for someone so fake and shallow but now you’ve seen the other side to her. Or is it just a disguise for her to gain your trust? You trusted she’d catch you and instead she pushed you away.

“Are you even listening to me?” Janis breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Huh”

“I said, has Regina fallen in mud, or ruined her boots or had bugs in her hair yet?” You can hear the grin in her voice, and a slight hint of excitement from speaking about Regina.

“Uh, I don’t know… I haven’t really seen her.” You lie again. Why can’t you stop lying to your friend?

“Anyway Janis I have to go, I should probably go and get dinner now, the teachers will wonder where I am.” Another lie “Bye!” You add quickly and hang up.

You sigh and throw your phone back onto the nightstand. You close your eyes again and try and get some sleep.

The painkillers have kicked in and you finally drift off.

You’re in the middle of a forest in a clearing. For some reason you feel uneasy. The trees are all looming around you, as if they’re trying to warn you, leaning closer to whisper “Run” in their windy breath. From between the trees you see a bright pair of blue cat eyes. They’re fixed on you. Unblinking.

You try to get up to run but you can’t move, you’re fixed to the spot as a lion emerges from the trees, claws sharp and teeth bared just about to clamp down on your neck-

Something shakes you awake. Or rather, someone.

“Get up.” You hear Regina hiss.

“What, why?” You mumble back, rubbing your eyes. Her silhouette is blurry above you.

“Come with me.”

“Why the fuck should I.” Your response shocks both of you,she scowls and grabs your wrist to drag you up.

“Just come with me.”

“Fuck off, Regina.” You spit

She doesn’t say anything, just tightens her grip on your wrist and pulls you up.

There’s no use resisting. Stupidly you follow her. Why would you trust her after she pushed you, you’re walking yourself to your doom.

She leads you to a clearing in the trees. Just like your dream, everything in your body is telling you to run.

And then you see it.

A hot pink blanket is sprawled out on the floor and you recognise various containers of food you’d bought laid out on the blanket. There’s two fluffy white pillows either side of the blanket.

“Say something, dumbass!” She barks, she doesn’t meet your eyes and you notice a slight blush on her cheeks

“What’s happening.” You stutter. Surely not, why would Regina have gone to all this effort? Is she trying to apologise?

“I saw you weren’t at dinner and I didn’t want you to starve or something. I’m not sleeping in the same room as a corpse.” She quips, going to sit on one of the pillows. You follow and sit on the other, are you still dreaming?

You eat in silence for a while. Every now and then stealing glances at Regina. She’s actually eating some of the food, looking down at the blanket in thought. The sun is setting and the light manages to catch her in a way that makes her even more perfect. Her cheeks are slightly rosy and you notice she’s taken off most of her makeup. She looks softer, like her guard has dropped slightly.

“I’m sorry I pushed you.” She whispers and her eyes catch yours. She looks genuinely sorry.

Against better judgement you immediately forgive her. You can’t hold much resolve against her when she’s sitting at a picnic she made for you and the sun is reflecting off her skin like that.

“It’s okay, I’m fine anyway.” That’s half a lie, it still hurts quite badly. “Thanks for this. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted you to know I’m sorry, really, and…. Your food is better than the shit they serve here.” She fidgets nervously “It’s nice to eat without Gretch and Karen commenting on the fat content of it.”

That makes your stomach sink. You wonder how anyone could ever think that Regina was anything but beautiful.

“We could have dinner together tomorrow too, if you wanted” that definitely didn’t come out as confident as you wanted it to.

She doesn’t say anything but she smiles at you. Your heart skips.

After you finish eating you pack up Regina’s cute picnic and make your way back to the cabin. You resist the fleeting urge to hold her hand. You don’t want to get shoved again.

She goes to the bathroom to shower and you pull out your sketchbook. You draw the same forest clearing before, sketching in all the leaves, except this time the lion is lying on a blanket, eyes closed, peaceful.

You put the sketchbook back in your bag and get changed into pyjama shorts and a top before laying on top of the covers on the bed.

You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Regina comes out of the bathroom, you hear her pad quietly towards your bed.

As if not to scare her off you stay perfectly still, eyes shut, and pretend to be asleep.

You feel her hand pull the leg of your shorts up at the side to reveal the darkening bruise at your hip.

Your heart nearly implodes when you feel her gentle lips press a soft kiss to your hip.

It’s over in a second, she goes back to her bed and pulls the covers over her head.

You let out a shaky breath and decided you would probably never be able to figure Regina George out, but at this current moment, you didn’t really mind.

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐏𝐭 𝟐

Pairing: Merman!Hyunjin x Human!fem!reader Genre: Angst kinda, Fluff🥰💖, Smut🔥❤️ Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: Blood, Chan is lowkey a dick, MURDER kinda, sex, p in v, cumming inside (use a protection >.>), possessive themes breeding kink, implied pregnancy it doesn't get a part tho i think thats it tell me if i missed anything.

A/N: Based on this TikTok someone save me from my imagination-

"The humans killed our ancestors, the pushed us far from the shores, our people died because of them."

"But why?" One of the merboys asked.

The class looked at him, small bubbles jetting behind the teacher from seashell horns on the coral wall. "Because they fear the unknown Hyunjin."

It was a while after classes he was moving on the current among the schools of fish, he saw the floaty. He moved for it confused. Why was a floaty this far from the shore. On the bobbing swan was a girl, she stared at him with wide eyes and he stared back. Her hands weren't webbed, she didn't have the fin like appendages jutting out behind her ears... but mostly, she didn't have a tail.

A HUMAN!? Hyunjin swam back slightly, fear prickling through him, the human tried paddling to the shore frantically, also afraid. His brows furrowed. Hesitantly, cautiously, he came above the water and tried forming the syllables he'd learned in class. "You swim no??"

The human girl looked at him. "You speak.."

Hyunjin made a face.

"Sorry. No, I can't swim." She laughed slightly. "What are you?"

Hyunjin tried to think of a word. "You caught... riptide." He pointed to the beach.

The human nodded.

"Catch current." He said, grabbing the floaty and pushing it rather quickly to the upcoming wave heading for the shore.

"Wait." The girl looked at him, her e/c eyes meeting luminescent sea green ones. "I'm y/n. What's your name?"

"Hyunjin." He said, pushing the floaty to the current.

The human grabbed his hand, he froze in fear. But she put something in his hand as the current swept her off. Looking down at it, he smiled slightly at a little moon charm.

Minho was poking Hyunjin's head in class. "Hey bubble maker. I'm bored."

"Class isn't over yet." Hyunjin sighed, fiddling with the moon shaped charm that floated around his neck.

"Sneak out with me." The merman behind him poked him again.

Hyunjin turned to Minho. "What do you take me for?"

"Come on." Minho smiled, the fin appendages behind his ears shifting, the scales that lined them shimmering a deep blue color in the light. "Chan and Yongbok must have already left class too. We can get the others."

"FINE" Hyunjin gave an exasperated huff, swishing his glittery green tail, pushing at the sand floor, startling a small squid.

Minho smiled, asking the instructor if he could use the restroom, a few minutes later Hyunjin asked to also go, and the two didn't return.

Meeting up with their friends, Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Yongbok, Seungmin, and Jeongin, the group swam out of the coral area and surfaced looking around. The sun was setting and sparkled against the water, lapping gently around them.

"Woah..." Jeongin, the youngest marveled, eyes glued to the shore. "How do humans build things like that?" He pointed past the sand to the tall structures.

Chan shrugged, "Last time I was on land, someone said there's a lot of math involved."

Changbin sucked in a sharp breath.

The rest looked at him, he was pointing frantically at something. A boat, not just any, but a boat with nets coming from it.

Hyunjin grit his teeth, "Isn't illegal to fish here?"

"It is." Jisung's eyes narrowed.

Chan looked at Changbin nodding. Before the rest could say something, both mermen swam full speed for the boat, slashing the nets and emerging from the water. Hyunjin watched as the people on the boat fell back into the water in fear. Chan dove again and even if it was far away, the scent of human blood reached Hyunjin's nostrils as he watched Changbin flip the boat.

"Disgusting scum." Yongbok spat, before swimming under.

Jisung pursed his lips before diving under as well, the others followed. As Hyunjin watched the boat capsizing he turned to the shore and his eyes widened at the sight of a human dressed similar to the others swimming and flailing frantically.

Chan came next to him, "Don't let him get far."

Hyunjin's ear appendages flared. He swam quickly, claws emerging from his webbed fingers as he closed in on the screaming human. The metallic scent filled his nose as he slashed the human's throat and let the current float the body to the beach.

You cringed as your boss slapped folder on your desk. "Another?"

"This one was a bit better than the last 4." The man huffed. "Guy we found on shore got out easy. Whoever or whatever killed him did it quick."

You made a face, squeezing the sun charm that hung around your neck. "I'll look into it, might have to stake out."

He nodded. "I could assign you a squad."

"If whatever or whoever did this sees a squad of men, it surely won't act."

"It's for your safety."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

Your boss smiled and patted the report. "Get to it."

You flipped through the report, looking at the images and the boat, the claw like marks on the fishermen's chests. You huffed, deciding to go to the forensics lab see what they had to say. When you saw the bodies all the forensic analyst and pathologist could say was that the wounds were ridged as if the blade used was jagged, not uniformly.

"Though, y/n." The forensic analyst pulled you aside to two microscopes. "Have you ever seen something like this?"

You looked into the microscope, there was a keratin like material under the first, similar to human hair but glittering.

"What is it?" you asked.

"A fraction of a scale from something...?" The forensic analyst sighed. "But look at this." She motioned to the other microscope.

Looking through it you saw a cell. "What about it?"

She grabbed you and shook you. "It's blue."

You shrugged.

"Y/N.. I didn't stain that sample."

Your eyes widened and you looked at the skin cell again. It was blue...

"I'm going on a stake out tonight." You said determined.

The pathologist and the forensic analyst looked at you a little scared.

"But-" the pathologist started.

"No!" You crossed your arms. "I'm going to figure this out."

You left the room before they could stop you.

Hyunjin probably shouldn't have but the moonlight looked so alluring through the water. The merman swam to the surface and hummed softly as he took in the moon, full and bright, the sky clear, his right ear fin twitched and he sucked in a breath. Boat...

His eyes narrowed as he tried to identify what type of boat. The nets flew and Hyunjin's gills flared, humans didn't ever learn. He dove under and swam toward the ship, claws out.

"There's something out there!" A man shouted.

Hyunjin burst from the water to slash at the man but his eyes widened as he saw a pair of eyes he hadn't seen in years. He pushed against the boat and dove again, swimming away as fast as he could.. He grabbed the moon charm around his neck and remembered, the human girl who got swept away by the riptide. She... He cursed at himself for not flipping the boat and getting it over with.

"I'm not crazy!" You shouted. "I saw a merman!"

"You've been saying that for the past two months." Your fellow investigator sighed. "Sure more fishermen have died but there's nothing to prove that you saw merpeople."

"Just go home and rest, Y/N, you look crazy." the receptionist quipped.

"Listen kid. You're barely out of high school trying to play investigator." The captain of your department patted your head. "Go home and rest. Let the professionals do their jobs."

You groaned in exasperation and walked to your office, sitting in the spinning chair, you knew you'd seen it, you'd seen it before. It- no.. he had your moon charm, you put your head in your hands and stared at the case report. Could there be others? You noticed it as you scanned the victims, the boats.. You grabbed the phone and dialed the natural resource reserve department.

"Hello. Natural resource reserve department this is Kady speaking."

"Hi I'd like to know if Sta Beach and the surrounding area is protected from fishing for commercial and personal use." You said to the woman on the other end of the line.

"Sta Beach?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before you heard rapid typing. "Yes it is illegal to fish for any reason in that area."

You nodded. "Thank you." Hanging up the phone you stared at the pictures again. The fishermen were fishing illegally.. so...

You remembered how that blonde haired merman flew out of the water, claws out but froze as he saw you. THE MERPEOPLE KILL PEOPLE WHO HURT THE FISH! You stood and slapped the case folder closed. You grabbed your phone and carkey, dialing your boss's number as you left the station.

"Why are you calling me at 2 in the morning-"

"I know what's going on. I'm going to fix it myself."

"L/N-"

"It was a pleasure working with you chief."

"L/N IF YOU GO OUT THERE! I SWEAR I'LL-"

You hung up the phone and got into your car, staring the engine and driving to the beach again, as you came to the parking, you put your car into park awkwardly across three spaces and ran for the shore.

You watched as gentle waves crashed against the rocks and sand, removing your shoes, you ran to the water. The moon reflecting off it, stars glittering. You stared out for a moment, noticing a ripple in the water, a head surfaced, fin like appendages behind its ears, it shook its dark hair as another head emerged, then another. You held your breath as five more heads appeared and scanned the water, the first turned and locked eyes with you. Your eyes widened as it dove under the surface, the other heads turned.

You saw those sea green eyes again and you knew.. "Hyunjin..."

Hyunjin shouted, "Chan WAIT!" before diving after the first.

Your eyes widened as the first merman, Chan you assumed, burst out of the water claws bared. You scrambled back deeper into land and it landed, tail dissipating into two legs. You shrieked as he jumped for you. Someone caught him and dragged him to the sand. Hyunjin.

"She saw us!" Chan snapped, easily slamming Hyunjin into the sand.

"She's seen me before!" Hyunjin grabbed Chan's hands. "She won't say anything!"

Chan stared at you. The other mermen came to the shore and changed, they looked human, only their eyes having unnatural luminescence.

One of the men, hair purple and eyes pale white stared intensely at your chest.

You bristled, "It's rude to stare at a woman's chest y'know." You said.

"I wasn't staring at that." he walked forward and Hyunjin jumped off Chan but the purple haired man was faster, grabbing your sun charm and pulling close for inspection. "Hyunjin." he turned to the green eyed man. "Is this here you got that from?" he pointed to Hyunjin's necklace.

Chan stood, eyes narrowed. "She's the human?" He rubbed his face, claws retreating. "Why are you here?"

"I'm investigating why the fishermen died. I guess.." You looked at the men. "I have my answer."

Hyunjin looked at you. "You should go back."

"Why-" You started, but the sound of a siren made you turn.

A few of the men dove back into the water when they heard it, the purple haired man looked at Chan. "What if she says something?"

Chan looked at Hyunjin.

The lights from the police cruisers came closer and one pulled around the corner, a head sticking out the passenger window, gun drawn. Before you could react, Chan grabbed you and threw you into the water, you almost screamed, flailing around since you couldn't swim but Hyunjin grabbed your face, forcing your mouth open as he pushed you deeper beneath the surface. You choked as water invaded your mouth but he put something on your tongue and closed it. To save yourself from choking of the sea water you swallowed and covered your mouth.

The purple haired man tilted his head at you. "Speak."

"Huh-" You grabbed your throat, realizing you were breathing. You looked at them, Hyunjin's legs had become a green tail, Chan's a dark blue one and the purple haired merman now had a funny purple and green tail.

Hyunjin smiled and Chan still gave you an incredulous look. "Minho. Make sure they don't get away."

The purple haired man, Minho, nodded, shooting up to the surface.

"She can't stay." Chan huffed, swimming past Hyunjin and you.

Hyunjin looked at you.

"I thought I was crazy." You said.

"When I send you back you'll have to act crazy." he sighed.

"You can't send me back, they saw you guys drag me under-"

"Minho has it handled, you can return and say it was some kind of sea animal." Hyunjin looked at you. "Chan is right, you can't stay here."

"Says who!?" You snap.

"Do you realize I should've killed you when we met? You and I aren't supposed to even know each other! It's forbidden!" The appendages behind his ears flared angrily.

"Why is it forbidden? Ariel makes it work!"

Hyunjin made a face. "This isn't a fairytale. When human and merperson come together. People die. Why do you think we hide from your kind?" He shook his head. "When the sun rises, you're going back."

You stared at him. "Fine."

He swam after Chan, leaving you there.

If Hyunjin had ever eaten his words it would be years later. Blend in. Act human. Get the artifact and go.

So there Hyunjin was almost four years later, walking around a museum on land, dressed in a suit, carrying a "cellphone". He found the artifact relatively quickly, and admired the craftsmanship of his ancestors.

"Something peak your interest sir?"

He turned to the voice, eyes widening. You looked a little different from before, and if the human world was anything like under the sea, an investigator didn't often change carriers to a museum worker.

You looked up at him and bristled. Taking a step back and shaking your head. "Enjoy the exhibit."

Hyunjin opened his mouth to speak but you had already turned on your heel to walk away. He reached for you but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked at Jisung who shook his head.

"Remember why we're here." he said.

Another museum worker came up to him and Jisung, she smiled and motioned the artifact. "According to native legend, almost 500 years ago this blade belonged to a merman, he fell for a human woman on the surface, and when they wedded in secret, the villagers took him for a monster who bewitched her and they took him away. The human woman told the other merpeople what had happened and hey came to get him back, the result was almost the deaths of nearly all the merpeople who lived on the coast, and when they did, the human woman killed herself with this blade. After the merman found out, he too killed himself."

Hyunjin hummed. It wasn't legend, it was fact. He looked at Jisung. "What an interesting story."

The woman nodded, "The museum is closing soon, please make your way out soon."

Jisung smiled, "Of course."

The men left the museum and Hyunjin grabbed the moon around his neck and breathed deeply. He did it for the best, so the past wouldn't repeat itself... he sent you home. But..

"Did you figure out anything?" Jeongin asked.

Hyunjin snapped out of his thoughts looking at him. "The museum is closing in an hour, we can get it then."

Minho nodded. "Kill the least amount of people as we can."

He nodded, thinking about how they would even get out of the city after they got the artifact.

When it was time to get the artifact, the lights in the museum were out, he could see just fine, sneaking in with Yongbok through a window at the back and making their way to the place he'd seen the artifact. Yongbok grabbed the glass and lifted it just enough for Hyunjin to reach his hand in and grab the handle of the dagger.

"How the hell did I know you'd come back here?"

Yongbok looked claws ready but his brows furrowed when he saw you. "Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin looked at you. "Let us pass."

"No." You huffed.

"Yongbok." Hyunjin handed him the dagger. "Get out of here."

"But-"

"Go."

The blonde haired man ran for it.

Hyunjin looked at you. "Why do you have to be everywhere?"

"I work here!" You snapped. "You're everywhere! Stealing that thing!"

"I'm following orders!" he shouted.

"Oh! Are you?! Kill me then! We can't know each other!" You bared your neck at him.

Hyunjin stared down at you. "No."

"Then what orders are you following Hyunjin?" You shoved him. "You let me live time and time again! What orders are you following?!"

"I can't kill you!"

"Why cant you?!"

"What reason do I have to kill you?!"

"Chan said it himself; I know your kind exists! I shouldn't be allowed to live!"

"You say that like you want me to kill you!"

"Maybe I do! I really thought we were friends! From that moment you pushed me back on the current when we were kids, I thought you were my friend Hyunjin!"

He looked away. "I can't."

"But you'll keep me alive." You gave a dry laugh.

"Of course I will!" He whipped around. "What type of moral code do you think I have?"

"You killed those fishermen no problem."

"They were hurting the fish."

You glared at him. "Take your artifact and go." You pulled off your sun charm and threw it at him. "If you see me, you don't know me."

You turned to leave but he grabbed you, pulling you back against his chest, his hair draping over your shoulder. "I just wish you'd understand.."

"I do." You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he held you there.

"No, you don't." He muttered.

"Make me understand." You reached up and touched his head gently, patting his hair.

He pulled away and turned you to face him. His luminescent sea green eyes locked on yours, and hesitantly, he leaned in, his plush, full lips centimeters from yours. And he kissed you gently, nose bumping yours before he turned your head, tongue prodding at your lips for entry. Your lips parted and he sighed softly at your taste, relishing in the feeling of being so close to you.

Then he pulled away, forehead pressed against yours. "I'll be back, I swear it..." He put the sun charm around your neck again and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Wait for me."

You'd gone back to school, deciding to major in marine biology, it had been almost a year since you'd seen Hyunjin. Still illegal fishermen and the occasional oil dumping people in boats were killed, it was on the news and in the paper. More likely than not it was the work of Hyunjin's friends.

You sat in your apartment bedroom, flipping through your assignment. Your roommate was out for tonight, so it was just you. You tapped your desk as you read through the textbook looking for an answer to a question. You bit the plastic cap of your pen out of frustration.

"Maybe humans want the turtles eating plastic because they're no better." A voice said. That voice was familiar. A voice that was nothing but hostile to you. Now it sounded so calm.

You jumped slightly in fear, turning to your bedroom door.

"Woah woah woah!" Chan laughed. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just thought you might want to see your special guest."

You practically flew from your chair. "Guest? Chan how did you get into my apartment- What guest?" You pushed past the dark haired man and your eyes widened at the sight of Hyunjin and the others, who fiddled with your toaster.

"OW!" A short, well built man jumped, blowing on his finger.

"Changbin!" A thin blonde haired man grabbed his hand and went to the sink. "This is why Chan never sent you to human world before."

The group hadn't noticed you yet.

"Uh-" A young man poked Hyunjin.

"What, Jeongin?" Hyunjin turned to him.

The young man, Jeongin, pointed at you.

Hyunjin looked, his lips parting slightly as he saw you.

"GUYS!" Chan shouted.

The other boys looked at him.

"Let's leave them..." He ushered them out of your apartment.

Changbin was still staring at his finger.

"Oh wait.." You grabbed a paper towel and got an ice cube before handing it to Changbin. "Hold it to your finger. Toaster burns are so scary" You teased.

The other men laughed as Chan finally got them out of your apartment.

You turned to look at Hyunjin.

He smiled at you. "You live alone?"

You shook your head no.

"Where's your roommate?" He asked, fiddling with the ice dispenser.

"She's not coming back until tomorrow evening.." You said.

Hyunjin nodded and hummed softly. "I guess I owe you an explanation."

"Chan needed the artifact to find the old merpeople palace. If he found it then... we could come to the surface when we wanted." He opened your fridge and took out a Tupperware of something, examining it before putting it back. "I didn't think we'd find it.. But we did... it looked so old. It was destroyed."

You stared at him. "We destroyed it all that time ago... Humans right?" You moved and sat on your couch.

He nodded, sitting beside you. "It was destroyed because a merman and a human woman were in love."

You looked at your hands. "Is that why Chan hated me?"

Hyunjin nodded. "He was scared the past would repeat itself."

Silence spanned for a moment and then he hugged to his chest.

"I missed you." He said softly.

"You don't even know that much about me.." you muttered.

"I'm here for a while." he said rubbing your shoulder. "I'll learn."

You huffed a small laugh. Looking up at him, you smiled slightly.

He smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

You sat up and leaned in, kissing him gently.

The tips of his ears turned turned red. You giggled at his flustered expression but he grabbed you, kissing you again. He hesitantly reached his arm around you, pulling you closer. His tongue pressed its way between your lips and you smiled, allowing him entry. He groaned softly and pulled you onto his lap.

You put your hands on his shoulders and bit your lip looking into his eyes. He smirked and kissed your neck, his hand splaying on the small of your back. He sucked a dark mark beside your jaw and you moaned softly, he hummed and moved lower, his hands moved under you shirt and lifted it over your head. He tossed it haphazardly, his lips meeting yours again as you tugged at his shirt.

"You could've just asked sweet girl." He pulled his short off and kissed you again, his hands moving behind you unclipping your bra, he tugged it off gently before his hands grabbed for your chest. You moaned and arched into him. He groaned softly as you began grinding against him.

He tugged at your pants and you lifted off his lap, he tugged it down as far as he could before he turned your legs in way where he could pull your pants and underwear off all at once. He smirked at you flustered expression.

You grabbed his crotch and he whined. "Not so cocky now huh?"

He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, fondling your breasts as you fumbled to get his pants undone. When you finally got the zipper down, you pulled his pants and boxers just low enough to get out his cock. You stared at it for a moment.

"Y'know if I remember correctly, you said it was rude to stare a while back." Hyunjin teased.

You rolled your eyes and kissed him gently. "You're so dumb."

He laughed lightly and pulled you against him, rubbing his tip between your folds. "Are you ready?"

You looked into his beautiful eyes and nodded. He pulled you down and you moaned as your walls split around his manhood. He groaned when you throbbed around him, kissing your cheeks gently when you were fully sat on him. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to adjust to him.

He kissed your head gently and muttered. "Take your time."

You made a face and rocked against him gently.

Hyunjin gasped. You smiled. "Take your time." You mocked.

His eyes narrowed and his hands settled on your hips. "I guess you're good to go."

"Hyunjin-"

He lifted you slightly and brought you down on his cock hard. You squealed and he groaned. He repeated the motion again and again, "Why am I doing all the work here?" He moaned in your ear.

You huffed and pressed your hands against his chest for balance as you began riding him, one of his hands moved to hold your back while the other played with your right nipple as he sucked the left.

You moaned and gasped, "Hyunjin.."

"Huh?" He looked at you, his eyes half lidded, pupils blown wide. he huffed a small laugh. "Let me help you pretty girl." He flipped you over and pushed you into the couch, gripping your thighs as he fucked into you. "Fill you with my babies..."

Your pussy clenched.

"Oh you like that?" He moaned. "I'll fuck you full of my kids. This pussy is mine."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he hit the spongey area deep inside you. Hyunjin smirked and caged you in pushing your legs almost beside your head, pushing as deep into you as possible. You moaned loudly, loud enough you were scared you'd get a noise complaint from your neighbors. But you couldn't stop yourself as Hyunjin filled you again and again, reaching places you didn't even know was possible.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He asked, grunting softly.

You were too dazed to form a sentence but he grabbed your face and made you look straight at him.

"Answer me honey." He said lowly.

You nodded. "I'm going t-to cum."

He groaned and pressed his lips to yours, "Cum for me, sweet girl."

He rubbed your clit and you fell over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy clenched and spasmed around Hyunjin's cock. He let out a strained moan, following close behind. he gripped your thighs tightly definitely leaving bruises before he finally relaxed.

Your eyes went wide as you heard the door to your apartment unlocking. "Girl, I'm back early, but you will not believe, I saw the finest guy ever downstairs, he said his name was Cha-" Your roommate came around the corner and froze. "There's no way I sit on that fucking couch, BURN IT. GET A ROOM DAMNIT Y/N!"

"Do you understand what you've done Hyunjin?" Chan turned to him, eyes worried. "You could be killed for for this.. Y/n COULD BE KILLED FOR THIS! This is a massive mistake."

Hyunjin looked at Chan for a moment, "It's not a mistake I'll regret in this life or the next."

Chan groaned and facepalmed.

You were driving to the beach, it'd been a bit since you'd gone to see him, most of the time he came to you.

"Mommy."

"Huh?" You looked at the child in the back of the car using the rearview mirror.

"What's Daddy like?"

Your eyes met the child's sea green ones and you smiled. "You'll love him."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

more cute j word stuff 😳

Follow-up to this post, which covers episodes 1-3. This post will cover episodes 4 and 5, plus anything from the voice lines and recently unlocked vignettes!

Jade teases Grim about having "become close" with his mother (even though Grim is very obviously expressing that he is fearful of Georgina) 😭

HE SUGGESTS GOING TO AN OUTDOOR MARKET??? 🫣 (<- basic bitch who loves farmer’s markets, art markets, etc.) Y-You shouldn’t have, J word…

dvjsbekeke I DONmT KNoW WHY but I found it really cute when Jade gave Riddle advice on which seasoning is best to get as a souvenir for Trey, especially when he pointed out that sea salt can be enhance the taste of sweets and not just be used for savory dishes ig I like a guy that can cook

Him convincing everyone to buy fragranced soap (and getting some himself) 🧼 🙂‍↕️ (<- likes nice-smelling men and I am slightly offended when my friends joke he must smell like rotting fish)

NOT HIM CASUALLY PROMoING ThE MOSTRO LOUNGE AgAiN 😭 (This time Jade mentions they sometimes offer gelato at the lounge!) IF THIS IS A PLOy TO BAiT ME TO AZUL’S eAtERY IT’S WoRKING BC i LOVE GELSAtO🍦

Bro’s so excited to go ham on this lovey dovey couple 💀 “Let’s target their weak point ❤️” (I exaggerated it by adding a heart emoji but he does actually express this sentiment) whAtEVEFr you say, J wORD

Crowley: NRC students don’t like to work together, they have too much pride!! (Jade, this event: *directs the team to dire water guns together at the bride and groom*) I’m happy that at least the mutual goal of causing havoc unites them…

THE WAY hE GETS EVEN MORE hyPED UP AnD DETERmINED WhDN HE’S PRESENTED WitHBA CHALLenGE????!?????!??

Encouraging Malleus to use MORE force 😭

Praising Rook’s aim!!! 🔥

Claiming believes in Riddle’s skills and then going, “No, I think you will lose control and crash” when Riddle asks if he really means it…

LETTING RiDDLE THINK tHEY’LL LAUCH ROOkmS CAPSiZED BOAT INTO THE COUPLE’s bOaT EGEN REALLY jadE MEANT TO ySE RUDDLE’S BOAT WhILD ee RIDDLE Is STILL IN IT???!?!

His and Riddle’s magic fighting causing fireworks 🎇

HE FLIPPED OVER THAT ROWBOAT BY HIMSELF despite making a big deal about how difficult it is to do at the start of the event dhsbkwsjkabajwk and he leapt in the waters like a dolphin just to show tf off

“Do you understand the power of an eel merman now?" IMM SoRRH Y JADE J ndeVWr ShOUlvdVE DoYBTED yOU zdoR A SiNGLR SECONd oTL

He acts all humble and says he was able to give his all + the Eternity Float was a success thanks to everyone’s support and being there to liven things up 😭 StOOOOOO P i CAN5’TTTTT

Awww, he’s relieved he got to see the bride and groom smiling…

THE WAY THE EVENT ENDS???? Jade says that if any of us get married to a merperson then they must have an Eternity Float! Then Georgina adds that the Leech Family will lend their support if such a thing were to occur. UM????? TF DOES THAT NMEAN????? Fund our wedding...

ANDALSO>????? SINCE JADE WAS ABLE TO FLIP OVER THAT BOAT BY HimSELF STATH MEANS FLYOD CAN DO IT BY HIMSELF WhILE JADE'S ON RTHE ROWBOAT WITH HIS SPoiUASE (i-in the case that Jade ends up marry a non-merperson, of course) 💀

Jade telling Malleus (in Malleus's vignettes) to listen to Grim (who, by proxy, will be Jade's representative as a rowing instructor). hubfasdbfasdf AND HE KNEW NOTHING WOULD COME OF IT, THEN ACTUALLY BECAME SURPRISED WHEN GRIM WHINING ABOUT NOT GETTING HIS FOOD WET OR SPILLED ENDS UP HELPING WITH MALLEUS'S BALANCE

Him calling merfolk who choose to marry humans "odd" when he's odd himself OTL

HE WANTS TO RIDE A GONDOLA TO MADE HIS ENTRANCE AT HIS OWN WEDDING IF IT WERE HELD ON LAND... Okay, ITALIAN/j

He loves the views from atop the highest point in Ultramarine City and talks about how the view from atop cliffs would be even more lovely.

Humble king who says it will take him a while before he can even compare to his elegant and mature mother. (Rook says that Jade resembles his mother in their "gentle demeanors" and "calm, mysterious auras"

TALKINGA BOUT HOW HE WANTS TO DO EVEN BETTER AT THE NEXT ETERNITY FLOAT

He's honored by Yuu complimenting his outfit and says it makes him feel like standing up straighter...

Complimenting his mother's fashion sense????? Instead of being embarrassed by her...

Jade seems to get all nostalgic talking about how he never imagined the day would come that he would be able to walk in this city on his own two legs. He used to just... gaze at it longingly from the waters. His younger self would be shocked to see where he is today 😭😭😭

In his vignettes, he is happy that we have high expectations of him!! If you pick the uncertain dialogue option, he reassures you the items aren’t dubious… probably.

He’s aware that items that are no interest to him may be of interest to land dwellers!!

Jade reconnects with someone that took care of him while he was on land and learning about human life with Azul and Floyd. He is friendly to them ^^

The school staff member mentions wanting to come up with spots so interesting to visit that it would make “even the Jade from back in the day” be surprised! 😭 HE REMeMVERED j ADE??? And this seems to imply kid!Jade had limited interest in life on land???

His teachers praised his attitude, grades, and appearance… Perfect angel, can do no wrong/j

LMAO in middle school, Jade went missing for three days. (He loves going out after rain or storms because it’s easier to find unusual things!!) dhwvwsisnkw He was distracted by something shiny he found and chased that light!

HE cALLs HImSeLDf iNNOcEnT

Bro got caught in a whirlpool and claims he nearly starved because he struggled to find fish, thinking he would die… I can’t tell if he’s exaggerating or not 💀

GEORGINA aqueezED hIM so TiGHT HIS bONES CRAvKED anD FlOYD lAUGHED At HIM

Not him basically going “If I am being told to not do something, doesn’t it make you want to do it even more?”

WAH 😭 Georgina is happy that Jade now has a friend that will tell him off sternly (Riddle) as well as a friend that does his best to understand Jade and accepts him as he is (Rook).

“This is good stimulation for you, Jade.” HE AGREES, NRC IS FULL OF INTERESTING PEOPLE 🙂‍↕️

NAuUUUuuUyR Jade says he will one day return to the sea, but for now he is enjoying his school life with everyone 🥺

*CRAMS ThiS CONTENT IN MY MOUFHT AND SLI0WPLY DisaigGETS IT FOr SUVCBSTENCANNCE*

[aliesbienish]

Rocking the Boat - Part One

Buddie x Reader AU Two reluctant dance novices wind up in a beginners ballroom class while on a cruise. Will it be smooth sailing? Not if the cute dance teacher can help it.

So basically I watched Dirty Dancing and decided Eddie must teach ballroom. Figured a cruise ship was the modern version of Kellermans and this idea (shit show?) was born. Do I know anything about dancing - absolutely not. Did I intend to make it multiple parts - nope, not at all. So good luck I guess...

This wasn't exactly how you'd plan your dream vacation. Thousands of people, one ship and the open ocean. Did somebody say Titanic? But you couldn't exactly say no to celebrating your parents' anniversary, especially not when everyone else in the family said yes. With their respective partners in tow. While you are painfully single. It is going to be a long week.

The ship itself was lovely. Grand staircases, fancy restaurants and a waterslide or two to really give it that je ne sais quoi. It was thankfully adults only, however, it seemed to be also heavily geared towards couples. The activities schedule was full of things like dance classes, couples massages and romantic movie screenings. Great for the rest of the family. Not so much for you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Day one - Sunday

Everyone had successfully boarded, clad in matching green and pink Hawaiian shirts the happy couple insisted the whole party wear. Food was devoured at the buffet, the safety briefing was half listened to and the ship was explored. Once the rooms were ready everyone split off into pairs, some couples to dance, some to the casino and some to the bar. Not wanting to intrude you decide to call it an early night, and try not to think about how lonely this trip might become.

Day two - Monday

Your parents had decided to hold a meeting over breakfast each day to go through the daily schedule. With military precision they had planned each day, dictating what activities they wanted the family to attend together and when everyone had free time. The morning activities were rather fun: you'd enjoyed the quick thinking of bingo and the creativity required for art class. Both conveniently were also activities you do solo.

But you couldn't help but dread this afternoons activity... ballroom dancing. Now you didn't know much about ballroom dancing, or really dancing to begin with, but even you could be pretty sure it wasn't something one typically did alone.

Yet here you were, 1:30pm sharp, standing in the theatre with your family and thirty or so other guests.

"Alright everybody," A voice carried from across the room. "Welcome to introduction to ballroom dancing" You whipped your head around to spot the instructor, and put eyes on a striking man making his way to the centre of the room.

"My name is Eddie and I'll be your teacher today. Now there is no pressure in this class, you are all here to have fun not to star in a remake of Strictly Ballroom. So we will be starting from the very beginning, today will be all about basic steps. That being said if you enjoy today, which I really hope you do, then remember this class will be on every sea day at the same time. Over the week we will build up your skills, and by Sunday you should be able to have created and performed a routine. First things first, pair up! Any singles please come up to me and I'll find you a partner."

You gave your family a wry smile and made your way into the centre. Most guests seemed to have already come in couples as expected, and honestly you were kind of hoping no one came forward so you could just call it a day and grab a cocktail. A few elderly vacationers made their way towards the centre of the room, causing you to start rehearsing possible excuses as to why you couldn't make the next class. Luckily Eddie seemed to pair them off together pretty quickly. Finally there was just you left, and as mortifying as that was, you could almost taste the pina colada.

Eddie gave you a gentle smile before turning to the room, "Anyone else need a partner?" Heads shook across the floor.

He turned to face you with an apologetic smile, and opened his mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by the doors opening and three more people rushing in.

"Sorry we're late, got a little lost," A brunette woman apologised, dragging along two men behind her towards Eddie.

"No worries, you haven't missed anything. Just getting into partners."

"Oh shoot, my brother needs a partner." She said, pushing the taller man in front of her. The curly haired blonde gave an awkward laugh and small wave.

"That's perfect actually," Eddie smiled, tipping his head in your direction. You returned the mans awkward wave with one of your own.

"Now that's sorted," he bellowed, gathering the attention of the rest of the class, "Everyone find a space with your partner on the dance floor. We are going to give the new partners a couple of minutes to get acquainted, then we will get started."

Steeling your nerves at the fact you would be in close proximity to this handsome stranger for at least the next hour, you walked over to your new dance partner.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Buck." he smiled, causing your heart to flutter.

"Hi," you smiled and introduced yourself. "Thank god you came, I think I was a few seconds away from being told I had to dance with an imaginary partner."

"Don't be thankful just yet, an imaginary partner would be a lot less likely to stand on your toes." Buck joked.

"You are underestimating how much damage I can do by myself. At least with you hopefully I'll stay upright"

"Okay, how about we apologise for any mistakes and injuries we may cause now, otherwise I think 90% of our conversation might be the word sorry"

"Deal," You agree, grabbing his hand and shaking it. "I'm very sorry for whatever pain we are about to endure. But at least if we go down, we will go down together".

"Ditto" Buck agreed.

"Very sincere" You laughed.

"Alright guys, everyone ready to begin?" Eddie questioned, receiving nods and yes from the class.

"Great. The first element of ballroom dancing we need to get right, even before we take a step, is posture. I want everyone to turn to face their partner and stand about six to eight inches apart from hip to hip. If you can't visual that, it's about a hand width from thumb to pinky."

You move opposite to Buck, and quickly realise how tall he is. Looking up you catch his eyes as he looks back down at you. He places his hand out from his hip to judge the distance.

You blush as you swat it away, replacing it with your own and stepping towards him "No offence, but I think your hand might be a little larger than average"

"None taken."

"Great. Next I want everyone to stand as tall as possible, feet hip width apart. Imagine there is a string pulling you up from the top of your head, keeping you upright all the way. Once you are there keep that position but make sure your shoulders are relaxed. Also make sure that you are balanced, not leaning on one leg more than the other". You do as Eddie says, parting your legs slightly and drawing yourself up. Buck across from you is doing the same, adding even more height to his already towering frame.

"Now we want to get into our starting positions. Try not to move your body for now, just your arms. Within your couples decide who the lead will be. That person should place their right hand on the other persons back, below the shoulder blade."

"Are you okay if I lead?" Buck asked, "Or if you prefer you can. I really don't mind"

"Please do. Then I can put the blame on you if we knock other couples down"

"Clever" He chuckled as he gently placed the palm of his hand on your back. You could feel the heat radiating through your t-shirt.

"Now the followers left hand goes onto the right shoulder of their partner. Upper arm is fine if there is a bit of a height difference," Eddie chuckled as he looked at you and Buck.

You move your hand to Buck's upper arm and once he nods gently place it down, trying to school your expression as you feel the curves of his biceps underneath his shirt.

"Finally join your spare hands together halfway between you, just above shoulder height and slightly outwards from the body. Now hold that position for a minute as I quickly check everyone's forms."

"So what brings you here?" Buck questioned, gazing softly down at you.

"You mean the cruise or why I turned up alone to a couples dance class?"

"Both" he chuckled.

"My parents anniversary. They decided that to celebrate they wanted a family vacation, but with minimal planning. Hence the idea of a cruise. It has also been agreed upon that they get to pick the activities, including this class, and have been using some frankly despicable guilt tripping techniques to get me to attend. What about you?"

"Similar story really. It's my sister Maddie's birthday," Buck said, using his pointer finger on the hand combined with your own to motion over to the brunette he arrived with, "she and her partner Chim have been wanting to go on a cruise because they have been religiously watching Below Deck. I know," Buck laughed, catching the questioning look in your eyes. "It's not the same and I keep trying to tell them that but apparently it's as good as they'll get on their salaries. Anyway, Maddie asked me to come along to both the cruise and this class, and I have the inability to say no to her so here I am."

Just as you were about to respond Eddie came over.

"There's my a-team. Sorry I didn't grab your names earlier," You both quickly introduced yourself properly.

"Both your forms are looking pretty good, mind if I quickly tweak it a little though?"

With quick nods in agreement Eddie gently grabbed your conjoined hands and raised them slightly. He then softly grabbed Buck's hips turning them slightly so they were parallel to his feet. Finally he delicately lifted Buck's hand from your upper back and moved it to below your should blade. Catching Bucks eye you both seemed to flush red simultaneously.

"Perfect," Eddie almost whispered, hand lingering over Bucks' on your back. "That's your starting position there. Practice getting in and out from it for a sec while I finish checking everyone else." The brunette man gave you both a charming smile before walking over to check the next group.

"Wow," you involuntarily sighed, eyes coming up to meet Bucks.

"Wow indeed," Buck responds almost giddily.

“Alright guys, everybody is looking good. I’m sure everyone is eager to get to the actual dancing so let’s start with our basic box step. There is six steps in total, and once out to music each step will be a beat. Get back into position with your partner, and bring your feet together. For the first step the leader is going to step forward with their left foot, the follower back with their right.” Buck slowly moves his foot as instructed and you follow his lead.

“Great. Then the leaders right foot is going to be stepped out to the side of the left, try not to move it diagonally but rather forward and then sideways. Partners should be going back and to the side with your left foot.” You get a jolted a little with Bucks movement this time, but regain balance and move your foot backwards.

“Next the leader will bring your left to the right so your feet are together. Follower right to left.”

You both do so in time - “We’re naturals,” Buck whispers with glee.

“Fourth step we are going straight back with your right foot, forward with left for followers. Fifth back to the side with your left foot and then finally move your right foot to beside your left. Now hopefully you’ve all ended roughly where you started.”

“Well than wasn’t terrible,” you joked, “all our feet are so far intact,”

“We’ll be just like Baby & Johnny before you know it, how do you feel about lifts?”

“Promises, promises,” the holiday romance a la Dirty Dancing didn’t seem like a bad option, even if you Buck was just referencing the dance moves.

"Alright guys we're going to speed it up with some music."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Half an hour of practicing to music and you were exhausted. As soon as speed was involved your mind and feet decided to stop working in tandem, leading to mistiming, missed steps and a lot of running into Buck. Luckily you weren't the only member of the pair making mistakes, Buck wasn't wrong when he said your toes weren't safe. Then arms got involved and poor Buck was dodging your elbows.

Still it was an amazing experience thanks both to your partner and the teacher. Enough that you were hoping to come back.

"Thats all for today everyone. Remember it's a port day tomorrow, but we will be picking it up Wednesday for anyone who wants to continue."

The rest of the class began filing out, and you subtly shooed your family off so you could say goodbye to your new partner.

"Well we survived."

"Barely. There was a couple of moments there I thought we were going to go A over T."

"I blame the sway of the boat," Buck decided.

"I think I'll stick to blaming the leader," You rebutted, Buck putting his hand on his heart in mock hurt.

"As long as no one is blaming the teacher," A voice interrupted from behind.

"Now there's an idea, what do you think Buck?"

"Works for me!"

"Wow, my favourite students turning on me. After all I've done for them."

"Technically you only have yourself to blame, you paired us up," Buck nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry, clearly I should have given you each a senior citizen to dance with, though they might have been to advanced for you both to handle. I was going to check if you both were coming back, but maybe my confidence couldn't handle it."

You gave a questioning gaze to Buck - "I'm game if you are?"

"It would be rude not to, the class needs an example of what not to do" Buck agrees.

**Next part**

[mggssocks]

The Eighth

part one

pairing: Fem!Kook!Reader x Rafe Cameron

cw: idk maybe some foul language, sexual content but nothing too into detail (at least not for this specific chapter).

The sunlight filters softly through the glass-paneled windows of the wellness center, casting golden shapes across the polished hardwood floors. Peaceful music plays from hidden speakers, the instructor’s voice calm and rhythmic as she guides the class through a slow, fluid flow.

But your mind? Anything but calm.

“You did what?!” Becca practically shrieks-practically, because she’s still trying to keep it whisper-level, but it comes out high-pitched and loud enough that a few heads from the front rows swivel.

You give her a sharp elbow to the side. “Can you not?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she hisses, dramatically mouthing an apology to a woman in front of her. “I just- Rafe Cameron?! You snuck out for Rafe Cameron?”

The two of you are tucked away in the back corner of the yoga studio, half-heartedly following the instructor’s cues. You’re attempting some kind of twist, but between Becca’s animated whispering and the slight soreness in your thighs from climbing down your balcony ladder barefoot, it’s not going well.

“And you said your mom thought he was, like, sinister or something,” she adds, smug and grinning like the devil himself.

“You think that too,” you remind her, adjusting your position as the instructor glides past, eyes scanning the room like a hawk.

“I think he’s a dick. I didn’t say he was like- Dexter or anything. There’s a difference.”

You bite your lip, trying to hide the smile pulling at the corners of your mouth as the instructor calls for a high lunge. You ease into it, arms rising overhead, muscles lengthening.

“He’s not,” you say simply, voice soft but with just enough warmth to betray you. Becca’s head turns sharply toward you, eyebrows shooting up.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, way too loudly. “You like him.”

You shoot her a look, but it’s too late- the instructor pauses her pacing and pins the two of you with a slow, deliberate warning glance.

“Ladies,” she says in her soothing yet somehow terrifying tone. “Let’s bring the energy inward. High lunges, not high drama.”

Becca lifts her hands in mock surrender and mouths, Sorry, goddess of core strength before leaning toward you again as soon as the instructor turns away.

“You like him,” she repeats, quieter now but just as accusing.

You shake your head but your smile gives you away. “I don’t even know him like that.”

“You knew him enough to sneak out at one in the morning and make out at the marsh.”

You roll your eyes and drop down into the next pose. “It wasn’t a thing. We just talked.”

Becca gives you the smuggest look on the planet. “You think you’re special now, don’t you?”

You exhale through your nose, pretending to focus on your breathing. “No.” But your silence says otherwise.

-

“I just can’t believe he made you touch his dick… Was it big?”

Becca is relentless.

You’re both stretched out in matching striped lounge chairs beside the turquoise pool behind her family’s house, basking under the early afternoon sun. The air smells like chlorine and sunscreen, and Becca’s got on heart-shaped sunglasses that do absolutely nothing to make her look less judgmental.

You, on the other hand, are half-reclined, legs bare in a tank and sleep shorts, phone in hand as you text back and forth with your mom- who has, for the third time this week, brought up the “family bonding cruise.” You’re nineteen, not nine. The thought of being trapped on a boat with a bunch of screaming toddlers and your dad’s weird sea-sickness wristbands makes your skin crawl.

'No, Mom. I’m not doing shuffleboard with retired strangers for seven days straight. Please stop treating me like I’m twelve. Love you though.'

“Y/N,” Becca snaps, ripping you back to reality.

You blink up at her, thumb still hovering over your screen. “Mhm?”

“Was it big?” Her tone is even, but her raised brow and mischievous smirk say she’s just waiting to pounce.

You let your phone drop to your stomach with a groan. “God, you’re still on this?”

Becca grins like she won the lottery. “Like how you should be on his di-”

A sharp throat-clearing interrupts her.

Alice, Becca’s family’s long-suffering maid, gracefully sets two glasses of lemonade down on the table between your chairs. Her face is unreadable, though the corners of her mouth twitch like she’s suppressing a laugh- or maybe judging you both into the afterlife.

“Thank you, Alice,” Becca says sweetly, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder like she wasn’t just about to say the most vulgar thing imaginable.

Alice walks off without a word, her white shoes squeaking against the wet patio tile.

You bring the cold lemonade to your lips, needing the chill to combat the heat rising in your cheeks. “You have no shame.”

“I have curiosity,” Becca corrects. “There’s a difference.”

You give her a look. She gives you a smirk.

“And?”

You sip again, then sigh dramatically. “I didn’t exactly inspect it.”

“Oh, come on,” she groans. “You had your hand on it.”

“It was through pants!”

“Was it like… intimidating?” she asks with faux seriousness, as though she’s evaluating weapons-grade artillery.

You cover your face with the cold glass. “I hate you.”

“So, yes.”

You peek out from behind the cup. “Becca.”

She leans back, satisfied. “All I’m saying is, if I touched Rafe Cameron’s dick, I’d be screaming it from the rooftop.”

“Well, thankfully, I’m not you.”

Becca just grins, like she knows you better than you know yourself.

And maybe she does.

Beau—two years older than Becca, same sharp jawline but more muscle than mischief now—steps onto the stone patio barefoot, a pair of navy swim trunks hanging low on his hips and a backwards hat barely holding back his sandy blond curls. You knew he used to run with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce before it all blew up. One wrong Pogue, one expensive lawsuit, and Beau had been yanked out of his golden-boy antics and thrown headfirst into “get-your-act-together” territory.

You hadn’t seen him around Rafe since, and he hadn’t been at the party last night. You assumed that meant distance- or maybe a full-on falling out. Either way, he wasn’t part of that scene anymore.

“Hey,” he says casually, stepping past a pool float and over to the lounge chairs.

“What do you want, Botox?” Becca deadpans, not even sparing him a glance as she massages 

sunscreen into her already tanned stomach.

“I can be in my own backyard, butt cheek,” he shoots back, tone flat, plopping into the third lounger—conveniently the one beside yours. He leans back, arms behind his head like he owns the sun.

Ah, classic sibling love. Their bickering was endless, and even with the mildest insults, the tension was somehow always… theatrical. You were suddenly grateful you were an only child.

Beau reaches for his water bottle and takes a long swig, eyes flicking toward you mid-sip. “How was the party last night?” he asks, casual, almost like he doesn’t care about the answer.

Becca doesn’t miss a beat. “Ask Y/N,” she says with a chuckle, lips curling into something that’s just shy of devious.

You shoot her a pointed look. Traitor.

Beau turns his attention to you, brows lifted in curiosity. “What’d you do, Y/N?” he asks, tone dipping into that mock-scolding register that toes the line between teasing and protective. 

Growing up with him around- family vacations, beach bonfires, holiday dinners- you’d always felt like he was a half-assed older brother figure. Just annoying enough to make an impression, but decent enough to care.

“Nothing,” you answer a little too quickly, your voice higher than usual.

Beau narrows his eyes. “Right. That’s what people say when they definitely did something.”

Becca lets out a laugh and sips her lemonade through a straw, eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. “She’s being modest.”

“Modest?” Beau raises a brow and shifts his attention back to you. “You don’t look guilty… you look guilty guilty.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” you mutter, picking up your drink and taking a long sip, hoping the cold distracts you from the heat rising in your face.

“She snuck out last night,” Becca says nonchalantly, flipping onto her stomach.

Beau turns back to you. “Seriously?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you lie. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So you thought, hey, lemme go for a midnight stroll?” He smirks. “That’s what people do now?”

You shrug. “It was more like a drive.”

Beau leans back in his chair, looking at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “With who?”

Becca coughs pointedly, which earns her a swift kick in the leg from your foot under the chair. She lets out a quiet “ow” and tries to look innocent.

“With a friend,” you reply, pretending to be way more interested in your phone than you actually are.

Beau raises both brows. “A friend? Is this a new friend?”

You open your mouth to answer but get saved by the sound of Becca’s ringtone blaring from her phone.

“Saved by the bell,” you mutter, taking the moment to redirect your full attention to your drink and your phone while Becca answers her call, rolling away with a giggle.

Beau looks at you one last time, suspicion still lingering in his expression, but he doesn’t press. 

“Just don’t let her rope you into anything too crazy,” he mutters, reaching for the lemonade Alice had set down for him. “She’s got a talent for chaos.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding. “Noted.”

But you’re already thinking of the text you might send later tonight. Or the one you hope to get.

A day passes. And then suddenly it’s two. You try not to care, really-you do. But the silence from Rafe hits harder than you expected. It’s not like you thought he’d become your boyfriend or anything… but maybe a text? A “had fun” or even a “you good?” would’ve sufficed. Instead,

there’s nothing. Just your screen time quietly creeping up every hour as you keep checking the same damn thread. Still no bubbles. No read receipts. Just that final “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Now, your leg is bouncing under the dinner table like it’s fueled by caffeine and heartbreak. You stare at the iMessage app, the little blue icon taunting you from the bottom of your screen, as if by sheer willpower you could manifest a text from him. Your plate of untouched salmon grows colder by the minute.

“Honey, you okay?” your mom’s soft voice cuts through the silence.

You look up from your phone. She’s mid-bite, her eyebrows pinched in concern as she watches you.

“You’ve been shaking your leg for the past ten minutes,” she adds.

“I’m more concerned with your obsession with that device,” your dad says from the other end of the long dining table, newspaper in hand like he’s cosplaying 1985.

You roll your eyes. “I’m just waiting for a text.”

“From who?” your mom asks, not accusatory- curious. She always hopes it’s someone safe. Someone her country club friends’ kids would approve of.

“No one.” You tuck your phone under your thigh to shut them up.

A beat of silence passes before she sets her fork down gently on the porcelain plate. “Well, when you’re done waiting on this mystery man, we should really start talking about your future. It’s time, Y/N.”

“Time for what?” You already know what’s coming.

“Your internship,” she says with a pointed look. “Fall applications for Valentina & Co. open next week. We need to get you ready.”

You exhale slowly. Valentina & Co.- your mother’s legacy. A generational designer brand with your mother’s maiden name sewn into the labels of handbags, silks, and socialites across the coast. It’s never been something you hated. But it’s never been something you wanted, either.

“I said I’d think about it,” you mutter.

“Well, don’t take too long,” your dad adds without looking up. “Your mother worked hard to build something for you to carry on. This family doesn’t do wasted potential.”

You nod, chewing your lip. You glance back at your phone, hoping for a distraction, something to fill the pressure swelling in your chest.

Still no message. Just your reflection staring back at you in the screen. Quiet. Waiting.

You lie in bed, limbs tangled in your sheets, remote in hand as you absently scroll through Netflix. The soft blue glow from the screen casts shadows across your room, illuminating the familiar chaos of your posters, Polaroids, and half-finished water bottles on your nightstand. It’s a little past 11 p.m. 11:06 to be exact.

You’re not even really watching- just flipping aimlessly, looking for something with just enough noise to lull you to sleep. A comfort show, maybe. Something predictable.

Your phone lights up, pulling your attention from the screen.

Rafe: hey

Your heart kicks up- an involuntary thump in your chest. But the excitement fizzles just as quickly as it sparked when you glance at the time again.

11:07.

Of course.

You roll your eyes and toss the phone face down beside you on the comforter.

Classic Rafe Cameron. The prince of booty call o’clock. Never a good morning. Never a “hey, I’ve been thinking about you.” Just hey- simple, lazy, charged with possibility and a whole lot of nothing.

Your screen lights up again.

Rafe: you up?

You don’t move. Don’t touch the phone.

Again.

Rafe: I’m outside

Your heart stutters. Outside?

Your eyebrows shoot up as you whip the phone into your hands and stare at the message like it might morph into something else. Surely not. No way.

And then- 

Thud.

The sound comes from your balcony.

Your stomach drops. You sit up slowly, creeping toward the French doors that lead outside. Your curtains flutter just slightly from the cracked window, and then you see him.

Rafe. Standing there on the other side of the glass like it’s perfectly normal to show up uninvited and unannounced in the dead of night.

You slide the door open just enough to slip through.

“Are you insane?” you hiss in a harsh whisper, eyes wide as you glance toward the yard, paranoid your parents might still be up or worse- watching the camera feeds.

He grins, leaning back against the balcony railing like this is just any other night. Like he belongs here.

“Had to see you,” he says, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his hoodie. “You weren’t answering.”

“You texted me three times.” Your arms cross over your chest- equal parts flustered and freezing.

He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like waiting for a response.”

You stare at him, half-annoyed, half… whatever that twisty feeling is in your stomach. Because he shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be entertaining this.

But here he is. And here you are. Barefoot and half-ready for bed, heart racing for someone who’s barely texted you in two days and still manages to make your skin buzz.

Your paranoia spikes when he leans against the railing a second too long. Without thinking, you reach out and grab his hoodie, yanking him inside through the French doors.

“Get in, get in,” you whisper-shout, casting one last frantic glance at the yard below before pulling the door shut behind you. He chuckles under his breath as he quietly flips the lock and closes the window.

“You always this welcoming?” he teases, brushing past you with a grin, taking in the soft glow of the TV and your mess of blankets on the bed.

You exhale, sweeping your hair out of your face, eyes flicking toward the crack beneath your bedroom door. No flicker of light. No footsteps. No sounds from the hallway. You breathe a little easier.

“I should kick you out,” you mumble, turning to face him. “You can’t just show up on my balcony.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” he smirks, not even trying to hide how pleased he is with himself.

You don’t answer.

Instead, you shift your weight from one foot to the other, arms folded tight across your chest. 

You’re trying to figure out a way to ask him what the hell happened- why he ghosted you after practically undressing you with his words the other night- without sounding like some needy girl waiting by her phone.

Because you weren’t. You were not that girl.

Even though your screen time was up 17% this week.

He moves closer, slowly, as if reading every single thought flashing behind your eyes. And maybe he is, because the smile on his face says it all- he knows. He knows you low key like this. The drama, the tension, the thrill. The way your heart races when he looks at you like that.

But you’d rather die than admit it.

“Miss me?” he asks softly, voice dipped in amusement. It’s not cocky in a mean way- it’s just Rafe. Smooth, knowing, frustratingly charming.

You scoff and roll your eyes, retreating a step, but he follows.

“I mean, I figured since you didn’t respond, I should check on you,” he continues, eyes lazily scanning your oversized sleep shirt, your bare legs, the undone look of you. “Make sure you weren’t dead or something.”

“Oh, right,” you say, dry, trying to sound unfazed. “You’re such a humanitarian.”

His eyes flash with amusement. “And you’re really gonna stand there and act like you didn’t miss me?”

You open your mouth to respond- something snarky, probably- but he steps in closer, hands sliding around your waist before you can think straight. The heat of his palms against your skin silences you.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, though it comes out breathier than you intend.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, leaning in, his lips grazing your jaw. “But I’m pretty sure you like me anyway.”

You don’t respond- not with words.

Instead, your hands bunch into the front of his hoodie and you pull him toward the bed, lips crashing into his like you’ve been waiting to finish what you started at the marsh. He follows easily, his body pressing into yours as you both stumble back onto the mattress.

The TV continues to play something random- some cheesy Netflix rom-com neither of you are watching- masking the sounds of rustling sheets, breathless laughter, and the kind of tension that’s been building for days.

His hoodie hits the floor. Your fingers tangle on the back of his buzzed hair. And for a few heady minutes, you don’t care that he’s Rafe Cameron or that he’s a disaster dressed in luxury linen.

All you know is that he’s here, he tastes like spearmint gum and trouble, and his mouth feels really, really good on yours.

“You know I’m not your booty call,” you whisper against his lips, words barely forming between the heat of each kiss. Your voice is low, breathy, but still laced with intent.

He grins into your mouth, his hands tightening just slightly around your waist. “You can’t say that. I haven’t gotten any action from you yet,” he murmurs, the laugh in his voice vibrating against your skin as his lips move down to your jaw.

You let out a small, incredulous breath, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Keep up with your smug comments and you won’t,” you shoot back- funnily enough- while your hands trail down, undoing the button of his shorts and slipping down the zipper with practiced ease.

His breath hitches, the smirk faltering for half a second as his eyes lift to meet yours.

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” he says with that trademark grin, half-lidded gaze drinking you in under the dim flicker of the TV light.

“That’s exactly how it is,” you whisper, dragging your lips along the edge of his jaw, deliberately slow, while his hands explore the small of your back beneath the hem of your shirt. You shiver slightly- not from the cold, but from the way his fingers trail lightly over your skin like he owns you.

His hips shift closer, pushing you back deeper into the mattress, his weight settling just right above yours.

“I should sneak into your room more often,” he mumbles against your collarbone, lips grazing the dip there.

“You do and I’m getting an alarm system,” you manage to reply, though your voice is thick with something else entirely now-desire, want, maybe even a touch of something deeper that you’re trying not to name.

His mouth finds yours again, this time slower, more thorough. Less teasing, more wanting. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask- it takes.

And you let it. For a while. The warmth of his body on yours, the steady press of his chest, the low hum of the television barely registering now as your mind quiets for the first time in days.

It’s messy, intense, and a little chaotic- like him. But somehow, it still feels good. It still feels like 

something.

“I hope you have a condom,” you breathe, chest rising and falling as he pulls your shirt over your head in one smooth motion.

“Always,” he fires back without missing a beat, his voice low and cocky. The shirt lands somewhere off to the side, and for a second, he just looks at you- eyes trailing over your light blue bra with a small, amused grin.

“What?” you ask, already defensive.

“Nothing,” he chuckles, running a thumb over the strap. “It’s very… you.”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“Glad I’m the exception,” he says, dipping his head to kiss just above the cup of your bra, making your breath hitch all over again.

But then- because you just had to open your mouth- you mutter, “Bet you used one with Sofia one of these past two nights.”

He stills.

Shit.

You can feel the heat drain from your body instantly. Why did you say that?

You brace for a reaction- anger, confusion, maybe a half-lie- but instead, he pulls back just enough to give you that stupid, crooked smirk.

“You’re obsessed with her.”

“I’m not,” you say quickly, a little too quickly. But even to your own ears, it sounds defensive.

Rafe doesn’t say anything right away. He just starts kissing your neck again, slower this time, lips brushing along your pulse like he’s trying to remind you what this is- who it’s with. “Then stop bringing her up,” he murmurs against your skin. “She’s not here. I am.”

And somehow, just like that, the tension between your legs starts to come back, replacing the jealousy you hate feeling in the first place.

His hands slide down your sides, playful now, like he knows exactly the effect he has on you. 

“Besides,” he adds with a grin, “if I wanted to be with Sofia, I’d be with Sofia. I’m here, sneaking through windows and risking my life for you.”

You exhale, letting yourself relax back against the pillows.

“God, you’re annoying,” you mutter, trying to hide your smile.

“Yeah,” he leans in, brushing his nose against yours, “but I’m the kind of annoying you like.”

And unfortunately- very unfortunately- you can’t exactly argue with that.

“Yeah, whatever,” he chuckles, shifting onto one elbow while using the other hand to push his shorts down. It’s too dark to see much, but you feel it- his arousal, pressing against your inner thigh through the thin fabric of his briefs. The sensation draws a quiet gasp from your lips before you can stop it.

And all you can think about, absurdly, is Becca’s voice at the pool- Was it big? You want to be annoyed with yourself for even remembering that right now.

“Can you push the cockiness aside for one second?” you ask, voice soft but teasing as you shimmy your underwear down your legs. He mirrors the motion, slipping his briefs off. There’s a low rustle as clothes land somewhere in the growing mess of your night.

He reaches for his shorts, fishing in the back pocket until you see it- the telltale glint of a gold foil wrapper. The sight of it sends a jolt through you, anticipation quickening your breath.

“I can push the cockiness somewhere,” he smirks, voice low and full of promise.

The gold foil now somewhere on the floor, your hand finds his mouth just as his finds yours- your bodies tangled, breathless, lips muffling sounds neither of you could contain. The sheets rustle with your movements, the mattress dipping under each shift. Every breath, every whispered moan threatens to give you away, but the fear of your parents waking up doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s far, far away. Like everything else that isn’t this.

And honestly? If they burst through the door right now, it would take an entire army to pull Rafe Cameron off of you.

When it’s over- if you can even call it that- you’re lying there, naked, sweaty, breath still uneven. The TV glows quietly in the background, casting soft shadows over your walls. Some mindless movie plays, the kind of thing you’d normally use to fall asleep to. But now, it just fills the silence.

Rafe is beside you, arms behind his head, eyes on the screen. You can’t tell if he’s actually watching it or if he’s just avoiding looking at you. There’s a slight furrow between his brows. A calm one. But it still makes you wonder what’s running through his head.

You shift slightly, pulling the blanket up over your bare chest. “So…” you begin softly, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as unsure as you feel. “Was that what you came here for?”

His eyes don’t leave the TV at first, but the corner of his mouth lifts- just barely. “You think I’d sneak up onto your balcony just for that?”

You glance over at him, skeptical. “Wouldn’t be the wildest thing you’ve done.”

He finally looks at you, eyes darker now, but not in the same way they were an hour ago. Softer, even if still unreadable. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

Your heart does something annoying in your chest at that. You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say next.

And neither of you does. Not for a while. Just the movie playing, and the sound of your breathing slowly syncing up again in the quiet.

[atlaculture]

Hi! Wanted to start out by saying that I am a huge fan of yours and I love all your posts and find them all super interesting! I’ve never sent an ask before but I just saw your post on muay Thai armbands and just had to say something.

I practice Muay Thai myself and I thought your post was super cool! I actually thought the exact same thing before (after seeing some of your posts connecting atla things to the real world) and bet it was inspired by that. There is this poster in my gym that I noticed one day looked a lot like Zuko at the Agni Kai! It had the same arm bands, no shirt, (some of it was also the angle and the frame of the fighter) and I noticed that the mongkol (headband that fighters wear before the fight) that the fighter was wearing in the poster looked a lot like Zuko’s ponytail.

I’ve never fought so I don’t know all the details but I do know that the mongkol is given by the trainer to the fighter once they are deemed worthy to fight, and is worn by the fighter as a sign of respect and loyalty to the trainer. Anyway I just thought it was would be really interesting if zukos hair was designed to look like a mongkol, and would add even deeper meaning to the hair cutting scene. (I know that there is already a lot of deeper meaning to that scene and that you know wayyy more about all that stuff than I do) anyway though it might also show him renouncing his teachings, especially in firebending, also interesting that the next time we see him learn anything new with fire bending, it is inspired by water bending, showing a shift in trainer and style. (I know iroh was teaching him on the boat but we see iroh and zuko not always getting along with his teachings so I assumed Zuko learned a lot from palace instructors, his father and Azula’s fighting style)

Anyway sorry for rambling so much at you, sorry if you hate all this or already know this, just something I noticed and thought you might like to hear about, also I got excited cause I’m a fan of yours and Muay Thai is in my bubble, and also that you posted about arm bands because I just earned my own by passing some testing at my gym and I was super excited about it. Anyway! Sorry this is so long, never sent an ask before, just wanted to share some things I know and say I’m a big fan of yours, have a nice day!

Congrats on getting your armbands! I have a lot of respect for Muay Thai fighters. If you're interested in influential MT fighters in the US, look up Kenya Prach. He's a pretty notable martial arts figure in California's Bay Area. Oh! And watch the Ong Bak films. Those movies have great Muay Thai scenes as well.

Regarding Zuko's ponytail, originally he was supposed to have a chonmage (Japanese topknot), but they later changed it to be a more flowing ponytail.

So the resemblance to a mongkol was initially unintentional. However, when we get to the Sun Warriors, their aesthetic is very Southeast Asian. They seem to purposely give them headbands that resemble monkols, especially when paired with the ponytail.

[sadclowncentral]

hi would you say the barrier of entry for sailing is very high?

my family had a house near the beach so i spent every summer in the sea so i absolutely ADORE IT and wanted to learn how to sail recreationally but it's always seemed so expensive + hard to get into

advice or opinions are greatly appreciated if you have any to offer<3

btw i love ur blog ty :)

i would absolutely encourage you to try sailing out and i think it's a great sport to get into! i have introduced dozens of people to sailing so far and almost all of them hit the ground running. the learning curve is steep and even just joining for the first times without touching anything is exhilarating so no moment learning is wasted. strong motion sickness or a paralyzing fear of the ocean notwithstanding, i truly think everyone can learn the ropes (haha) and that quickly! we always joke that it is very easy to get a boat sailing and very hard to get it sailing fast, but you have the rest of the life to figure out the latter and even if you don't you will have a grand time on the water.

you did not specify if you want to get on a sailing yacht (that you can sleep and do long tours on) or a smaller dhingy so i will answer both and i hope it is helpful!

SAILING YACHTS:

when it comes to sailing yacht, the real challenge is not sailing but owning a boat, and that is where the financial barriers come in. i will not lie to you - owning a boat is really expensive, and i am talking 5 to 6 figures a year expensive for a middle-sized sailing yacht including mooring, fixes, equipment, utilities, tools, and everything else. you can absolutely find cheap boats sold at every coast line - but buying a boat is not expensive, having a boat is. (guy who just bought a rope for 600 human dollars voice) heed my warning.

THE GOOD NEWS: you absolutely do NOT need a boat to learn sailing on a yacht. everywhere there is a marina there is people looking for crew, and many sailing clubs have programmes for beginners to get you on a yacht and try it out! there are also many summer programmes to join on larger tours and learn sailing. i would encourage you to bring a friend or two because it's much easier to flounder around on a new ship in groups, but it is absolutely worth trying out and again - even being on a boat is exiting, and you learn by doing!

now. sailing is not a dangerous sport and this is my heightened sense for safety of a sailing instructor speaking. but! if you join on a boat even as a visitor please think of that sailing tumblr blog in your life and tell the captain that before you go out of the water you would like to know: 1) the number for local search and rescue, and 2) the position of the fire extinguisher, the lifeboat/life ring, and the emergency shut-off and 3) that you want to wear a life vest unrelated to weather conditions. if they make jokes about you being a worry-wart, take them in stride, but if they refuse to do any of this, you tell them that they are irresponsible and leave. things rarely go wrong but they can and i want you to know what to do. okay? sailing is not scary but being unprepared is. okay PSA over.

DHINGY SAILING:

dhingy sailing is the most fun, the closest to the water, and the fastest way to learning sailing because you are together with one other person max facing the winds. yes you will most certainly get wet, but it is very safe, close to shore, incredibly fun and exhilarating, teaching you self-reliance, reflexes, trains your sense of balance and gives you abs. it's the perfect sport. can you tell i teach dhingy sailing

if you want to learn dhingy sailing, again, do NOT immediately buy a dhingy. while they are far less expensive they are still a hassle and setting up the mast without knowing your way around a boat will discourage you from sailing forever. instead, again, join a sailing club or a short course to learn dhingy sailing!

many places can give you intensive courses and certificates that qualify you to lend out dhingys afterwards our you join a sailing club with their own dhingys (which there are a lot of everywhere!). most offer weekly or even daily sailing lessons and group sailing and faster than you know you will flying over the water. the financial barrier here could be the course cost as they vary widely (my students pay 50 euros a year but some places will cost you that or more an hour it's hard to gauge). apart from that, you will have to invest in a neoprene suit and a sailing west, but that's the extent of it.

all in all, give sailing a try! it is the most rewarding hobby i can think of and my heart aches for everyone who lives at the coast and doesn't best the waves one way or another. and again, i cannot stress it enough: being on the water is half the fun. everything else will happen in due time. the ocean waits for you! happy sailing!

[bzhitstruth]

May Coincidences

Nobody knows exactly when DD left for US to film the second part of Discovery. According to persistent rumors on Weibo, it happened around May 11-12, and DD is still supposedly there filming. After he left, there happened some coincidences that I noticed.

All CPN, fake and my personal interpretations

1. For almost half a year before DD left for US, GG and DD were often in the same city. This has happened very rarely in recent years, and it is a great luck. Of course, during this period they sometimes left for various reasons to other cities and abroad, but these were short trips, their main point of stay and their nest was Beijing. And when it was time to join long-term projects, they managed to do it almost simultaneously: DD left for US on May 11 (if the rumors are true), and according to official information, filming will last 1.5-2 months, GG left for Shanghai on May 19, his filming will last until about autumn. It was just a coincidence.

2. On May 19th, GG did the caption to his post: “各位别来无恙啊！ (How are you, everyone?)”. These words end the last line of the song 不忘 (Bu Wang) from CQL, which DD sung: 与君在身旁别来无恙 (approximate translation: I hope you are well with me by my side). In the interview at the fan meeting on November 2, 2019, DD said that he really likes this phrase. This phrase appeared in the GG's post just when DD is travelling somewhere in the wilds of America, and GG himself has flown away from the “nest” to film.

3. On May 20th (Chinese Valentine's Day), GG posted the 3-minute video on his account where he watches an episode of "Legend of Zanghai" and comments. One of his comments: "Forgot to put on knee pads!" Of course, this is the famous episode of the "quarrel in the boat", every turtle knows the story with the knee pads. Does GG remember this old meme well? Nevertheless, it got into this short video.

4. May 21st (also Chinese Valentine's Day). DD and Jimmy Chin (rock climbing instructor who works with DD in US) followed each other on Instagram. I wonder if it was a coincidence that DD's 105th Instagram subscription appeared on Valentine's Day?

5. During the broadcast of "Legend of Zanghai", GG was active on Weibo, writing playful comments to his fellow actors and illustrating them with emoji pictures of funny dogs.

On May 24 at 17:01 YBO posted the video in which DD pulls on a glass door, wanting to enter a room where a fat black and white cat is lying on the floor and spinning from side to side (by the way, the cat's coloring is very similar to Nut's). On the same day, about an hour after YBO's post, GG posted another picture in the comments, and it was a cat. Since then, GG has posted only cats several times in a row.

6. A strange thing happened with the BGM that was in the YBO's video. It's the Korean song, "Fiction" by BEAST. On the same day, May 24, the Legend of Zanghai account made the post on Douyin with GG, with the same music (I suspect this video is provided by XZS for drama's account, and BGM was most likely chosen by XZS as well). And GG posted the same song on May 31 on his personal Douyin account. It's touching that the clip used in the videos includes the phrase: 사랑해 사랑해 사랑해 사랑해 사랑해 (I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you).

7. On May 28, the short interview of Sina was released with GG, in the form of quick answers to questions, something like a “test of erudition”. GG was asked questions about animals, including: What color is a polar bear's skin? GG answered “black”, and explained how he knew this: "I watched the Discovery Channel." It turns out that the Discovery account actually once had a story about the color of polar bears, it was released on November 12, 2022. From the information about the documentary, DD was preparing for filming since the end of 2022. And at the same time, coincidentally, was GG watching Discovery? And for some reason he mentioned Discovery right now, when DD is filming the second part.

8. On May 28 (CST), Jimmy Chin posted the video on Instagram of his hand with a watch and the caption: "The places we go." This post was noticed because it is the rock climbing instructor who is supposedly currently working with DD, and there has been no news from DD himself for a long time. There is nothing about DD in the post, and may be DD has nothing to do with it. It seems like the instructor is advertising the watch brand. The interesting thing is that the watch shows 10:05. Some people have suggested that the lighting in the video is not correspond to this time, it's probably either dawn or evening. But the watch shows 10:05 and Jimmy was the 105th account DD followed on Instagram. A coincidence.

💚❤️.

[kieranscaren]

You, me, and everything caught in the fire.

⍣ ೋ 1/4 series / sevika x highborn reader.

(aka, piano teacher sevika grieving her dead parents)

Ten years before everything goes to shit, Sevika flees. Scraping by in unfamiliar territory to make ends meet, being your piano instructor isn't so bad. // cross posted :)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Love is a disease to the mind. At thirty, rot swallows the undercity and Sevika is stupid for searching for an underlying in the cracks of a burnt-out city. Snuffed like the cigarette beneath her boot, her parents are gone.

Senile, old fools. They lived and died in that same rickety, sad excuse for a house. The house where Sevika learned to play and shoot, where she grew from a useless child into a tall fool. When the flames had swallowed it, her parents reclined into their chairs and let it take them.

Fleeing isn’t a smart choice. Sevika’s aware of that in her second, and last, remaining change of clothes as the boat she’s in crashes the shore. Like her childhood cat, she’s curious about what the world around her looks like before the car speeds down.

Real, lush, green surrounds the island Sevika will have to acquaint herself with. Not too far, yet eons away from the place she can, in no good standing, still call home. She feels for nothing but the emptiness in her pockets and the loose change scattered around the ocean floor. Is she desperate enough to dive in? She’s thinking she might be as she walks to the closest bar.

A drink will do her right. A poker game should give her just enough to get a hot meal and a room for the night. She could become a whore, like her cousin. Nobody around them at the seaside, too-fancy bar looks interesting enough for her to spread her legs for.

It smells of sea salt and aged tobacco. The owner, an aging silver fox, serves the drinks himself.

“You look like you’ve seen a few things.” The bartender chuckles to himself as Sevika takes the seat. Amusement is a good thing, in light of her empty pockets now. Laugh it up, she thinks. He might declare it’s on the house if she finds him so funny.

“You’d be right.” Sevika shakes her head. It’s none of his business what she’s seen, the horrors she has endured while he’s stood there, pouring the shots. Country music filters through the expensive sounding speakers and the patrons are tipping their invisible hats. It’s an island for Janna’s sake, they should be swimming or dancing, not wallowing in whiskey and pretend misery.

“I’m going to assume you’re not from here.” The bartender adds after a few, sliding forward a glass of something strong. Sevika chooses not to tell the amused man that she can’t pay for it — let the idiot figure it out himself long after she’s left.

“Good thing most of the people here aren’t. It’s a retired man’s wet dream, this place.” Sevika gives an indignant scoff. She could consider herself retired — though most retirees are by choice, not by their incompetence.

“I wasn’t led here by my dreams.” It was the shift of the current and whispers she heard years ago in the alleyways near her home. Sevika sighs again, reaching for the cigar she does not have. “I’ll settle in fine, though.” The worst thing you can be is a newcomer.

The bartender chuckles and shakes his head. So amused. Sevika downs the drink.

“I can help you with that. Need a job?”

Sevika had spent thirty-three good years in control. As a child, she had an ant farm on her bedside table. Observing the little ants follow the biggest, seeing them all congregate to reach one common goal when needed. As a teenager, she was a womanizer. From one poor Zaunite girl to the next, the shape of her fingers burned into each one. It felt good as the control had burned into her twenties. Domineering, altruistic, a good fuck, all things the Sevika just two days ago could proudly call herself.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Come on, Sevika. A job’s a job.”

“Do I look like a fucking maid?” In her dirty poncho and rubbery shoes with a shaggy mop over her brows that desperately needs to be cut. The bartender is as helpful as her father was. “You have to experience everything at least once.” He always used to say while running his fingers over their piano. He experienced roasting to death in his living room. Sevika experiences torture.

“You look like a hard worker,” The bartender shakes his head, throwing a towel over his shoulders. The bar has all but cleared up in the middle hours of the morning. Sevika’s been sleeping on a bench in the corner.

“Don’t fucking—” The bartender interrupts her.

“And a smart woman. You need to do this, and you are well aware of that fact.” Sevika isn’t aware of anything but the rumbling of her stomach. The man opposed to her feeds her scraps and Sevika takes it like a dog. The bartender hears it and slides her a glass of water. She can’t live off this.

“Fine.” She relents, nearly banging her head against the cedar wood bar table. Give me the information, and I’ll see about it."

The job in question is in a swallowing mass of a house beside the beach. Sand digs into the soles of her curled boots as Sevika leaves them at the welcome mat, per the lady’s request. The air is cold and crisp indoors. In between the boring blues and whites of the Foyer, Sevika stands in the bartender's maroon coat and blouse.

Somebody takes her boots and coat to the rack, and Sevika finds the largest spot on the sky-blue sofa. The Lady takes the love seat as opposed to her.

“You’re the second one to come in today.” That is not a shocking revelation. Sevika leans further into herself. The Lady is draped in her grief, blackened for a funeral the house shows no signs of. A Victorian, obsidian dress surrounds her, pearls hanging off her tall neckline. In the Undercity, people only dressed like her in winter. Every garment would be tacked on to stay warm. Every coat and blouse, dress and shirt. The owner of this castle is decked out in fall.

“… You’re still looking, aren’t you?” Sevika wears her nicest tone. The Lady gives no thanks. Awkwardly, she coughs into her long sleeve and wearily nods her head. “My daughter is a kind girl. Her last teacher went so suddenly, per the short notice.” Sevika wasn’t aware she was being timed. The lady continues.

“You can play piano, can’t you?” Sevika coughs, itching for the cigarillo the bartender has finally provided. Not here, not now, she reminds herself when the Lady’s gray eyes meet hers again.

“Yes.” There is no finality in her answer. The Lady must notice that before the desperation takes hold of her. She sputters into her sleeve again, then nods.

“I can provide housing and food. There’s the renovated pool house out back, that my daughter’s old instructor used to reside in. The servants should help you settle in within the next day or so.”

Shelter and hot food. Sevika’s inner child goes puppy-eyed. She nods, and the lady accepts her.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

[twistedcrumbs2]

Just an intrusive thought to add to the series of random ideas that strike me throughout the day—this time while working out to the most chaotic playlist you can imagine.

A workout routine with Jack!

Maybe you’ve suddenly found yourself dropped into another world, surrounded by traumatized and slightly unhinged students (or completely unhinged, depending on how you look at it), all while trying to survive the chaos of an insane school semester. Naturally, you’ve barely had any time to care for yourself. Just maybe.

Then, during one of Professor Vargas’ motivational lectures—peppered with lines like “Exercise is essential for self-care! Just look at me!” and “A healthy mind lives in a healthy body!”—a thought crosses your mind: “Alright, one hour of exercise a day won’t kill me… probably.”

To be fair, realizing you can’t even chase Grim around the dorm without gasping for air and nearly collapsing was the final push you needed. Something had to change—and fast.

The problem? You have no idea where to start. After mulling it over, you decide to drop by the athletic club. Watching others train might give you a clue (or, let’s be real, trigger some anxiety—there are a lot of sweaty guys in short shorts, after all).

As soon as you arrive, the first familiar faces you spot are Jack and Deuce, who immediately look at you like you’ve just fallen out of the sky (which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth).

After some chatting, you explain why you’re there. Jack, much to your surprise, seems more excited about your decision than you are.

And let’s be honest—given his physique, it’s no shock that the wolf beastman is the living embodiment of a gym rat. As you ramble about wanting to get into shape, his tail swishes back and forth, his subtle smile betraying just how thrilled he is.

— That’s great. If you need anything, just let me know, — he offers sincerely.

And, of course, you take him up on it. Jack is easily the most dedicated person you know when it comes to fitness, and more importantly, he’s kind enough not to expect something outrageous in return.

But it’s a terrible decision.

Not because Jack is bad at helping—quite the opposite. He’s an incredible instructor: patient, committed, and always willing to lend a hand. The issue is that you were expecting something easy. A casual evening stroll, maybe some jumping jacks. Nope.

Instead, Jack shows up that very weekend with a detailed workout plan, complete with an intimidating ABCD schedule (whatever that means), exercises with weird names, and—worst of all—one hour of cardio every day.

Yes, he genuinely wants you to run for an hour. Every day. You’ve seen him jogging past your window before sunrise, but you never thought you’d be dragged into it too.

To make matters worse, some of the exercises sound downright absurd.

— Bent-over barbell rows? — you ask, staring at the workout sheet like it’s written in an alien language. — Do we need to find a boat for this?

Jack chuckles softly and replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world: — No, just a barbell. I’ll show you.

The first few days are brutal. By 8 PM, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet, and your muscles are so sore that walking through the hallways feels like a challenge. But oddly enough, your mornings start to feel a little more structured. Despite the physical exhaustion, Jack’s company makes everything worth it.

During your sessions, you chat about all sorts of things. He even shares tips on improving your diet—always as gentle suggestions, never pushy.

It’s honestly adorable. Hard to believe this is the same guy who nearly kills you with his workouts.

Of course, there are moments of pure misery. Like the time he introduced you to burpees—an exercise that can only be described as modern-day torture. But in the end, the support and camaraderie you share with Jack turn the grueling routines into something almost… enjoyable. Almost.

Jack seems genuinely excited about your commitment. After all, what gym rat wouldn’t want a workout buddy? But it’s more than that. He enjoys your company and takes pride in helping you improve. He even goes out of his way to ensure you’re safe and don’t overdo it.

When you try to slack off—cut a set short or cheat on your form—he sighs heavily and says firmly: — You’re only cheating yourself, not me.

It’s giving strict dad energy.

Yet, he’s also incredibly perceptive. When you get frustrated or demotivated—like the time you stopped mid-run, gasping for air—Jack slows down and walks beside you, encouraging you to keep going at your own pace.

Beyond the workouts, Jack introduces small healthy habits into your daily routine. He reminds you to carry a water bottle, stretches with you before class, and even brings homemade protein bars. He insists they’re nothing special, but you’re convinced he blushed when you complimented how good they were.

As the days pass, you start to notice small improvements—not just in your stamina but also in how much easier your mornings feel. The group grows, too, with Epel, Sebek, and occasionally Deuce joining in. It’s chaotic but oddly fun.

Training with Jack isn’t just about getting fit. It’s about building a deeper connection with him. Because let’s face it—nothing bonds two people like suffering through a set of crunches at six in the morning, right?

Final verdict: 8/10 experience. Exercising is still a nightmare, but Jack makes it bearable.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Summary

Summary - a shortened version of any piece of writing in which you express in your own words and as briefly as possible the most essential information of that original piece of writing.

Your purpose in writing a summary is to “sum up” the original writing by including only the most relevant points the author makes.

You are writing an objective description of another’s writing and should not include your own personal opinions of that writing (unless your instructor specifically asks for your commentary and your opinion).

Strategies for Writing a Summary

Reading, Rereading, Highlighting, and Skimming

Read the material you plan to summarize carefully.

On a second reading, you might highlight the main ideas (literally, with a highlighter pen), make notes in the margin, or outline the writing you plan to summarize.

Before you begin to write your summary, skim over the material, noting the key ideas once more.

Finding and Using the Main Points

Assess the author’s main point and approach to writing – analysis, argument, exploration, definition, and narrative – and compose a sentence that includes who the author is and what he has written as well as his purpose in writing.

Notice how the author has organized his writing, particularly the use of paragraphing, transitions, restatements for emphasis, and other stylistic devices.

Write one or two sentences that briefly paraphrase the author’s primary support for each section or division of the original text.

Once you have written a sentence for each main idea, you have, in essence, written topic sentences for your summary.

Final Draft

Use the topic sentences you have written to organize your summary, which should be presented in the same chronological order as the original text.

Use transitions in order to make your summary cohesive and logical. Because your summary is intended to be short, you may combine sentences when you can avoid repeating information and to avoid choppiness in your writing.

When you have finished your summary, review with the following question in mind: Would someone reading your summary have a clear and accurate idea of what the original writer has written?

Example

Article: “Anatomy of a First Aid Kit”

A well-stocked first aid kit is a handy thing to have. To be prepared for emergencies, keep a first aid kit in your home and in your automobile. Carry a first aid kit with you or know where you can find one when you are hiking, biking, camping, or boating. Find out the location of first aid kits where you work. First aid kits come in many shapes and sizes. A, You can buy one from a drug store, or your local Red Cross chapter might sell them. B, You can make your own first aid kit. C, Some kits are designed for specific activities, such as hiking, camping or boating. Whether you buy a first aid kit or put one together, make sure it has all the items you may need. Include any personal items, such as medications and emergency phone numbers, or other items your physician may suggest. Check the kit regularly. Make sure the flashlight batteries work. Check expiration dates and replace any used or out-of-date contents.

SAMPLE SUMMARY

In their article “Anatomy of a First Aid Kit,” the American Red Cross advises people to have first aid kits on hand at home, when traveling, or at the work place. First aid kits can be purchased or assembled by individuals for specific activities such as outdoor recreation. The main consideration is to have everything necessary in a first aid kit, such as medications, phone numbers and other essential items. Finally, first aid kits should be kept up-to-date so that everything needed is ready for use in case of an emergency.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello professor trein! Umm.. this is a bit embarrassing and I understand if it's too personal to answer, I just have to ask. What was your and wife's favorite anniversary date? I was thinking about my own and my mind kinda wondered to you since you told us some stories.

Mozus 'The Rizzler' Trein-- I tried to pack in as many Disney references as I could into his anniversary dates :3c

***Warning: character death + grieving over that loss depicted.***

A Storied Past.

Trein coughed loudly into a fist.

"W-Well, now! It’s rather inappropriate for you to interrogate your instructors about their love lives," he stuttered, cheeks uncharacteristically colored

Trein lowered his gaze to a photograph on his desk—to the woman in a long gown and a flowery bonnet. He reached for her, but his gloved fingertips only came in contact with the glass that protected her visage. After a moment’s pause, he blew out a longing sigh.

“… I truly treasured every second I shared with her. To place a single anniversary above the others would be a disservice to her memory.

“Our first anniversary was a quaint and humble one. We walked arm and arm through the city, viewing the flowers. We stopped by our favorite bakery as a pitstop, and before the day was over I had purchased a bouquet for her. She had taken a daisy out and teased me with it. There is a children’s game in which you pluck the petals off a flower. One for “loves me”, the next, “loves me not”… and the petal that you pluck last represents the feelings the other holds.”

“The time after that, we ventured to a rural village to pick apples. Fresh off the tree, they were most succulent and sweet. We danced under the stars and in the shade of the orchard.

“Next year, I rented a boat and we took a ride vis the waterways. It took me some time to get used to rowing. Out there, drifting upon the waters… It was as though we were in a whole new world of our own making.

“We attempted horseback riding once. Never again. My steed bucked terribly—ah, but my wife had herself a grand old time. She happily fed the horses afterward, thanking them for their time.

“The fifth year, I made dinner arrangements with an upscale restaurant. We ordered many dishes, but the highlight of the menu was the Starry Night Spaghetti. Have you heard of it? Supposedly consuming it with your lover under a starry night is said to bind you eternally.”

Story after story poured out of Trein, each one just as saccharine as the last. You lost count of the anniversaries, of all the joy filling a jar and overflowing. Your professor, glowing with nostalgia.

But then came the shift.

No longer were they out exploring or experiencing the world. She had to stay indoors, for fear of aggravating her condition--so he brought the world to her. Gifts, photographs, anecdotes. And she would smile weakly and thank him.

Trein didn't say it, but you could feel it in his tiredness, the worry that pervaded his face. He was slowly losing her, and it hurt every last inch of him.

Her health declined in spite of his efforts. She was confined to a sterile hospital room, hooked up to a needle that dispensed all the things she needed to simply survive. The woman became gaunt as a ghost, the light and color leeched from her.

"On our anniversary, the last one before she passed..." Trein choked up. He took in a breath, but did not speak again for several moments. "... I apologize. I do not think I can..."

"It's okay," you said quickly. "That's enough. Thank you for entrusting me with your precious memories. I'll, um... see myself out?"

He did not respond.

You took the hint and scurried out.

Once the door shut behind you, Trein pinched the bridge of his nose. Wetness collected in the corners of his eyes, and he forced them shut.

He was in the hospital room again. Pure white and impossibly clean. The window was open, letting in sunshine, fresh air, and a glimpse outside, where his beloved would never again venture. She was there, laid out in her bed like a corpse in a coffin--yet she offered a shadow of a smile when she turned to him.

"Mozus," she whispered, thin as the sheets that she was wrapped in, "do you remember our very first anniversary?"

"Yes, dear. How could I not? We went flower viewing in the city."

"I miss them. The flowers. Ordinary as they are, they're magic. They come every year without fail. No matter how relentless the snow... spring will always come. That can be called nothing short of magical."

"Shall I fetch you new ones to spruce up your room? The roses are starting to wilt."

"... No. No, it just wouldn't be the same as seeing them fresh on the tree." She had shaken her head then, and he wondered if she had known then that she wouldn't last another year, that she was trying to save him the grief of a broken promise. "Surely you saw some on the way in. Can you... Can you please tell me about the flowers? What were they like this year?"

"As you wish. I will recount them to the best of my ability."

And that year, he had held her hand and silently wept as he spoke of the flowers and their rebirth.

No matter how relentless the snow... spring will always come.

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"... Yes. Yes, you're absolutely correct, my dear."

Spring will always come.

Surely.

[squatch-and-stretch]

Deep Dive

Stanley Pines & Stanford Pines | 6,335 words | Hurt/Comfort, Scuba Diving

One of the last skills you learn in dive training, and the one that likely sticks in your head the most is what to do if your buddy runs out of air. Even in the controlled environment of the training pool, 15 feet under synthesized salt water with a dive instructor behind you, warning you very clearly that they’re turning off your air, the moment that the gauge hits zero is briefly terrifying. Once you’ve got your buoyancy under control and have adjusted to the way it feels to be underwater, it’s surprisingly easy to forget that that is not where humans are supposed to be. And then your air supply cuts off, and you are reminded of the fact that you are desperately out of your depth in every conceivable way.

But your partner is right in front of you, and they were expecting this just as much as you are. As quickly as you run out of air, you can grab their arm, gesture with a flat hand across your throat, and rip their primary air source out of their mouth if you have to. You swim around a bit, holding each other's arms in a wet death grip, and you surface a minute later with no harm done.

That’s how it works when you’re learning, anyway. In practice, things work a bit differently.

Or, Sea Grunkles scuba diving hurt/comfort fic.

Despite his initial reservations, Stan ends up enjoying diving a lot. He’s always loved the ocean, but never really had any interest in going too deep into it. He’s a decent swimmer, but summers on Glass Shard Beach always consisted of goofing off in the shallows and working on the original Stan O’ War. In Gravity Falls, he was happy staying in his little boat and bringing the fish up to him.

Ford always had a bit of a different attitude, though. Ever since they were young, he was pressing his luck swimming out further and filling his eyes with salt water. Sometimes Stan would look out and see Ford floating face down in the water and he’d freak out every time, only for Ford to suddenly perk up and turn to Stan with red eyes and wide grin, insisting that he saw something this time.

So it really was no surprise that he ended up getting his diving license at some point while they were apart. He admitted that he hadn’t really ended up using it much— the bait shop by Gravity Falls Lake definitely didn’t double as a dive shop and he couldn’t really justify any destination diving— but he was happy to tell Stan all about it, and, eventually, insist on getting him certified as well as they planned a trip in warmer waters.

With the certification done, both of them properly geared up with a little help from Fiddleford both in terms of finances and technology, and some small modifications to the Stan O’ War II, they were ready to dive as soon as they circled around to the Caribbean through Panama. While part of Stan prickled at being so close to Colombia and all the unpleasant memories that brought back, Ford’s enthusiasm was, as usual, infectious, and made it very hard to get lost in his memories.

With a few air tanks rented from a dive shop in Belize and one of Ford’s sci-fi doohickeys detecting something over the reef, they were set to go.

“Any idea what we’re in for down there?” Stan asks as he gears up.

“Charles Darwin once described the Belize Barrier Reef as the most remarkable reef in the West Indies! Over 100 species of coral, 500 species of fish, and countless other invertebrates! It’ll be an incredible dive, Stanley, just you wait!” Ford says, fumbling with the buckles of his BCD in his excitement.

Stan rolls his eyes as he tightens the straps of his own.

“I meant whatever anomaly your doohickey detected.”

“It’s a highly advanced sensor,” Ford defends, looking down at the sensor on his wrist. With Fiddleford’s help, he’d modified it to serve as a fully functional dive computer as well. “As for what it might be sensing, it’s hard to say for sure.”

“So much for highly advanced,” Stan teases, and Ford huffs. “That guy at the dive shop mentioned the reefs being a little sparse lately. You think that’s related?”

“It could be!” Ford agrees, perking up. “Reefs are very fragile, any disturbance due to our anomaly could upset the balance and have a significant impact on the richness and abundance of local species. That being said, the same fragility means that any number of other factors could have the same effect…”

“So… who knows?” Stan concludes.

“We will,” Ford says with that bright-eyed smile that he gets whenever he discovers something new. “Are you ready?”

Stan clips the last strap of his BCD into place, checks that everything’s tightened, and nods.

“Lemme check you over,” Stan says, and Ford rolls his eyes but nods.

At first glance, it was easy for most people to assume that Ford would be the more cautious twin. That was never really the case.

Stan looks his brother over as Ford does the same, making sure everything was strapped or clipped or held in place. He gives both of Ford’s air supplies a quick squeeze, making sure the loud burst of air didn’t cause the gauge to dip from just over 3000 PSI, and then making sure his watch read the same thing. He does the same for his own while Ford watches.

Once they give each other a nod of approval, Ford slips his mask over his eyes, adjusts the strap, and gives Stan a grin as he stands. It’s a little infuriating how easy he makes standing and balancing with forty pounds of steel strapped to his back look. Stan slides his own mask into place and stands up with none of the same elegance, steadying himself against the wall of the boat as he steps around the dive bench with clumsy flippered feet.

Stan is glad he insisted on installing a gate at the side of the boat because he’s not sure if he’d be able to pull himself up onto the wall to enter the water backwards like Ford had first suggested. As it stood, he clumsily waddles over to the gate that Ford had already opened and secured.

“I’ll enter first,” Ford says over his shoulder. “You can follow once I give you the sign, remember?”

Stan rolls his eyes, pressing his fingers to the top of his head to form an ‘o’ with one arm. Ford nods his approval, slips his air supply into his mouth, holds it and his mask in place with one hand, and takes a large step into the water. He lands with a heavy splash, and immediately turns to face Stan and kick away from the boat. Stan steps into place, hand on either side of the opening, and waits for Ford to give him the sign. He does so as soon as he’s a few feet from the boat, bobbing along with the gentle waves.

Stan checks himself over one more time, grabs his air supply, and slips it into his mouth. He fits the mouthpart between his teeth and takes a few puffs, double checks his gauge one more time. He holds his mask and air supply in place, lets go of the boat, and steps into the water.

The cold shock he always expects when entering the water never comes. According to his dive computer, the water is 80 degrees Fahrenheit, a fair bit warmer than most showers Stan has taken in his life. Even the 3 mm shorty wetsuit he’s wearing almost feels like overkill, which is a shame considering how much of a pain in the ass it was to wiggle his fat old man body into the damn thing.

Ford catches his attention by pointing at Stan, making an okay sign with his hand, and then pointing down.

‘You okay to go down?’ Stan translates, and gives Ford a thumbs up, before shaking his head and giving him an okay sign instead.

He swears he sees Ford smile around his air supply, eyes amused behind his mask. He confirms with another okay of his own, and pulls the dump cord on his shoulder to begin the descent. With a bit of a struggle that mostly consists of Stan flapping with the hand not around his deflator in an attempt to submerge himself, Stan follows. Ford is already a bit below him, following the mooring line to the bottom. Stan descends a bit more cautiously, clearing his ears all the while; he’s already lost hearing in one of them, he doesn’t need to do any more damage to the other.

By the time he hits the sandy bottom, Ford is already there, has adjusted the air in his BCD, and is squinting at his sensor. Stan puts a quick pump of air into his own vest, just enough that the pressure of the water stops pushing him into the sand. Ford catches his attention, gesturing with a flat palm to one side, towards what looks to Stan like a whole lot of boring open ocean.

Still, who is Stan to protest? He follows Ford without question, just like he used to.

Eventually, the flat expanse of sand slopes downwards into a steep cliff wall littered with coral and crevices, and Stan is briefly awed by the sight of it. The man in the dive shop had said that the reefs were looking sparse lately, but if this is sparse, Stan can’t imagine what one might look like in full swing. A small school of tiny bright blue fish weave behind a purple fan of coral. Below them, a massive grouper disappears into a deep crevice. In a dark cavern lined by coral, an orange fish cautiously peaks out at them with a massive red eye. A large school of greyish fish with yellow and blue tails circles above them, each individual nearly indistinguishable within the group.

Not for the first time, not even for the first time today, Stan thanks whatever higher power might be out there for letting him make it this far. For letting him live long enough to see all of this with his brother.

Ford continues to descend, and Stan checks the depth on his computer. He’s at 51 feet, and isn’t exactly dying to go that much deeper. It’s not that he particularly cares about following the rules of his certification, he just doesn’t want to use up too much of his air. He doesn’t have a good handle on his breathing yet, his lungs are fucked up from years of smoking, and he’s a pretty big guy. He doesn't want to have to tug Ford up to the surface before he finds whatever anomaly he’s looking for. He doesn’t want to ruin this for him.

So, at least for now, he keeps an eye on his brother from above. Ford doesn’t so much as glance up at him, flicking on his flashlight and shining it into each barrel coral and crevice he comes across. Even above him and unable to see his face, Stan can read the excitement carried in Ford’s every move. Stan isn’t nearly as fast as Ford once they really get moving, but he also isn’t stopping to shine his light into every little hole he comes across, so he keeps pace well enough.

And it’s not like he’s entirely distracted by his brother either; there’s too much to see all around him. Some round lump with a silvery sheen catches his eye, nestled amongst the algae. He barely stops himself from grabbing it, because he knows the lecture he’ll get from his brother if he does. A huge lobster wiggles some of its weird spiny mouth parts at him, glaring from the crevice it’s lodged in. A sea star’s long, hairy limbs tangle along the inner surface of a smaller barrel sponge. A small dark head of a wide-eyed fish darts into a hole in the coral before Stan can see much of it.

Everywhere he looks, there’s something to see. Stan isn’t often amazed by the beauty of nature— he fancied himself too cynical for that kind of crap— but even he’s left in awe. He swims a bit closer to the coral, trying to make sense of the tiny fish he saw retreating into it, when he sees something big moving out there in the open ocean out of the corner of his eye. He turns to face it, but he must have been closer to the rocks than he thought, because his tank bangs against them hand enough for the first stage of his regulator to jam into the base of his skull.

Ouch.

The thing that caught his attention is still too far away to make out beyond a long, dark shape. It almost looks like a massive eel, but even Stan knows eels aren’t typically out swimming in the open ocean.

Still, it’s big enough to leave him a little breathless.

Real breathless, actually. The next breath is a struggle.

Is he panicking? He’s never been the most in touch with his emotions, but he’s pretty sure he’s not having a panic attack or anything. Sure, big unknown creature squirming around in the depths of the ocean is kind of scary, but he knows they can handle it.

Another inhale, even harder than the last.

Okay, well, maybe he’s panicking a bit, but only because he can barely breathe. That’s an effect, not a cause.

So what is the cause? He checks his computer, meaning to confirm that he’s not that deep, but his eyes catch on the air gauge. He gasps a little when he sees how low it is, and it dips even lower, the arrow plunging to zero.

Fuck. Fuck. Okay.

He needs Ford. He needs to find Ford.

Stan glances around, gasping in what little air he can. For a brief, terrifying moment, he doesn’t see Ford at all, can’t make out the shape of him in the water, before finally, finally, he sees the dark silhouette of him below and ahead. He has his flashlight on, head buried in some crevice in the rocks of the cliff. He can’t be that far, but the distance seems insurmountable.

He tries to take another breath, but he can’t. He can’t.

He grits his teeth around the regulator— don’t take it out unless you have something better to put in— and kicks down towards Ford.

Don’t hold your breath, especially not while ascending, air expanding as pressure decreases, burst lungs.

Good thing Stan’s going down.

His watch beeps at him, warning him that he’s exceeding the maximum programmed depth.

Ford! He thinks desperately, staring at his brother’s back. That twin telepathy stuff is bullshit, and even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be strong enough to reach Ford when he’s so focused.

You lose air more quickly the deeper you go. Stan swears he can feel it being crushed out of his lungs. A dull ache grows between his ears, but he can’t stop and clear them, not when he can’t breathe.

He reaches out for Ford, but can’t quite touch him. His legs ache as he gives one final kick and his fingers press against Ford’s tank. They scramble uselessly against the metal, searching for something to grab onto, before he gets his thoughts together enough to follow the straps to his BCD and slide his fingers into the narrow gap where the curve of the plastic doesn’t quite meet that of the tank itself. He tugs Ford towards himself, or himself towards Ford, and scrambles to grab his arm and turn towards him. He can faintly hear a startled noise from his brother, one that would be amusing in any other context.

No air, Stan signals desperately. Ford’s expression is hard to read behind his mask, but he’s not doing anything. He knows, in an emergency, he’s supposed to rip the reg out of his buddy’s mouth, hand them their backup and let them figure it out, but he can’t bring himself to do it, not to his brother.

No air, Stan repeats, and finally Ford moves. Without bothering to unclip his secondary, he spits out his primary, rips Stan’s out, and all but shoves his own into Stan’s mouth and pushes the purge before he can suck in a lung full of water. Good thing too, because clearing it was the last thing on Stan’s mind at the moment.

He gasps. The dry air and faint taste of salt water has never felt better. He doesn’t even care that it was in his brother’s mouth seconds earlier.

He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes. Fuck. He loves breathing.

Ford grabbed him at some point, and he tugs Stan closer as he continues to gasp for breath. He hooks his elbow through Stan’s and pulls them shoulder to shoulder. Stan, for his part, just lets himself be manhandled. He doesn’t mind any of it, doesn’t mind anything at all now that he can breathe.

After a bit— Stan has no idea how long— Ford squeezes his arm with his other hand to get his attention. Stan reluctantly opens his eyes, and is relieved to see Ford has his secondary in. Shit. Stan didn’t even think about making sure Ford was alright.

He points at Ford’s chest before he can do anything and holds up an okay sign.

‘You okay?’ he asks his brother, cocking his head to emphasize the question. Ford looks so annoyed that Stan can see it through that mask and reg, and it’s another thing that would have been funny in any other context. He can particularly hear Ford say, ‘are you seriously asking me that right now?’

Ford nods with both his head and his free hand, before jabbing a finger into Stan’s chest and making an okay sign of his own. Stan mirrors the two part nod. Ford squints at him, and Stan curves his fingers back into the okay sign.

I’m okay, he wordlessly insists. For a moment there, he wasn’t sure he would be, but he’s okay.

Ford still seems unconvinced, but he gives Stan a thumbs up. Thoughtlessly, he mirrors the gesture before remembering what it means in this context, but it serves him just as well. He’d love to be able to breathe an entire atmosphere’s worth of air without worrying about the tank on his back or any of the hoses connected to it. He’s still not sure what went wrong, but at the moment he doesn’t particularly care. He can breathe for the time being, but Ford’s air tank won’t support both of them for long.

Ford pulls Stan even closer, and Stan doesn’t mind even as it drives Ford’s boney-ass elbow into his hip. It gives him the opportunity to check the gauge attached to his brother’s regulator, to see that it’s around 1700 PSI and not visibly dipping with every breath the two of them take. They’re also at 83 feet, well below what Stan’s basic certification covers. Oh well, he’s never followed any other rules, there’s no reason for this to be an exception.

They’ll be fine, Stan concludes. Ford looks down at his computer, and gestures to the side and slightly upwards. Stan can only assume what that means, but he nods either way. He trusts his brother. He’ll get them out of this. Thinking is a lot of work right now.

Nitrogen narcosis, part of Stan’s sluggish mind whispers. Oxygen toxicity, it insists.

The rest of his brain, even running at half speed, knows that he’s not really displaying symptoms of either of those. He was scared, and now he’s tired. He knows that as long as his brother is with him, he’s safe to shut down just a little. They aren’t out of the water yet, but they’ll be alright.

Blearily, he lets Ford lead the way. He kicks weakly at the knees in the exact way he knows he shouldn’t, but his hips hurt like hell. He refuses to ever believe it, much less act on it, but as usual, his brain tells him he’s too old for this shit.

Luckily, Ford has a lot more stamina than Stan, and more than makes up for his weakness and poor form. He’s also capable of navigating underwater, which is more than Stan can say about himself; he’s fine making his way through an urban environment, and he even got pretty used to the forests of Gravity Falls, but he only knew enough about underwater navigation to get his certification.

Before he knows it, they’re back at the mooring line. His watch beeps at him again, and as he glances at it, he sees a three minute timer start to count down.

Right. Safety stop.

They’re seventeen feet down. Ford’s computer tells him they still have somewhere around 1500 PSI. As much as he wants to be out of the damn water already, he lets Ford hold him in place, and nods when Ford taps his own computer and gives him a questioning ‘okay?’

Stan nods. Okay, he confirms, hoping Ford can’t see his reluctance.

2:37, his computer tells him, and Stan focuses on breathing steadily but shallowly, watching it count down the whole time.

It’s among the slowest three minutes of his life, but eventually it counts down to zero and lets out a little beep of confirmation. He looks over to Ford, who gives him the okay, and the two of them finally make it to the surface.

Stan’s hand scrambles blindly for the snorkel attached to his mask, and he eventually manages to tip it upright and tug the mouthpiece to him. He spits out Ford’s regulator, clears the snorkel with a wet puff of air, and breathes into that. It tastes, as expected, of saltwater, but it feels great to breath and not feel like he’s stealing the air from his brother's lungs.

He glances around, and finds the Stan O’ War II waiting for them a few yards away, just where they left it.

“Are you alright?” Ford calls. His hold relaxed once they hit the surface, but he’s still gripping onto Stan’s hand like a bear trap. His other holds his snorkel at the ready, but he seems more worried about Stan than he is about the seawater splashing into his big dumb mouth.

Stan rolls his eyes, gives him the okay sign with his free hand, and gestures towards the boat. Ford mumbles a confirmation, puts his snorkel in, and begins kicking his way towards it, dragging Stan along with him. Stan tries his best to carry his own weight, but he feels like a kid doggy-paddling next to an Olympic swimmer.

They make it to the boat easily enough, and Ford reluctantly releases Stan in favor of the ladder. He plunges his head into the water, and Stan is briefly baffled before he resurfaces moments later with his fins around either wrist. He glances over at Stan one more time, as if worried he disappeared the moment he looked away, before he starts making his way up the ladder.

It’s far from effortless, but Ford manages to get up with little issue. From above, Stan can hear the loud clang of Ford’s air tank hitting the deck, and he winces at the thought of the dent it must have left on her.

He can barely manage to tilt his head up far enough to see Ford above him, his neck aching and the first stage of his regulator digging painfully into the back of his head, but at least he can see his brother above him. Now he just needs to get to him.

He takes a deep breath that feels like it’s mostly sea foam, and clears the remaining distance between him and the ladder.

Stan hooks his arm through the first rung above the water and braces one foot against the hull. He awkwardly contorts himself to grab at the other foot, slick, wrinkly fingers scrambling at the easy-release buckle at the side of his fins. His arm shakes with the strain, and even through the snorkel, it feels like he's breathing in mostly water.

Finally, he releases the buckle of one of his fins, and barely manages to loop his fingers through it before it slips off into the water. Now that it’s off his foot, it’s easier to latch the buckle again and slide it over his hand, keeping it in place as he shifts his aching body to grab the other.

“Brace!” Ford calls from above, and Stan does so without question, pulling himself tighter against the boat and holding his breath as a large wave sweeps over.

Once it clears, Stan scrambles to get his other fin off and pull himself further from the water. The relief of being mostly out of the water is undercut by the sudden weight of the tank on his back. Without the buoyancy the water provided, Stan’s legs nearly buckle beneath him.

Ford calls something to him, as loud and clear as he always talks, but Stan can’t quite catch it. All he knows is that it’s too long to be another call for him to brace.

“Throw up your fins!” Ford tries again, slower this time, louder.

He sounds impatient, but Stan knows he’s just worried.

Probably.

Still, he wiggles his fins off his arms as quickly as he can, and tosses them weakly up towards his brother.

Ford catches them with ease, and drops them on the deck without a second thought. The removal of a few extra feet of plastic around his arm helps some, but climbing the ladder is still a slow process.

They’ll have to add some traction tape to the damn thing next time they get a chance, Stan thinks as his foot slips against a rung yet again. As long as he doesn’t fall backwards with his feet caught between a rung— something that has happened to him at least once on land— he’ll be fine. Slow and steady.

“I’ve got you, Stanley!” Ford calls, and the weight of the tank on his back suddenly begins to lift.

With that, Stan scrambles the rest of the way up the ladder, all but crashing into Ford once he's on the deck. Luckily, Ford manages to keep his footing and shove Stan back into the bench. His legs buckle at the slightest pressure against the back of his knees, and the tank ends up landing in the right place by sheer luck.

Before Stan can even raise his hands to do so himself, Ford is unbuckling and loosening his BCD. Just as that registers, he pries off his mask as well, tossing it beneath the bench and out of the way. Stan just lets it happen, blinking blearily at the blurry figure of his brother.

Ford mumbles something to himself that Stan has no chance of hearing over his own coughs.

“You okay?” Stan slurs, mouth struggling around the words. He feels like his teeth are still locked around Ford’s regulator.

Ford huffs in the bitchy little way he so often does.

“I’m fine, I’m not the one who ran out of air approximately 27 minutes into our dive.”

He doesn’t mean it like that, a kind, logical part of his brain tells him, a part that was created recently and gets a bit louder every day.

Way to fuck it up, knucklehead. You saw that thing, but you had to ruin everything before Ford even caught a glimpse of it, another part says, loud and familiar. You should have stayed down there.

“Well sorry,” Stan says, thick with sarcasm even though he means it.

“You—“ Ford huffs, cutting himself off. He runs a hand through his soaking wet hair, and then immediately shakes off the sensation with a grimace.

And then he turns around and retreats into the cabin, leaving Stan, soaked and aching, alone on the deck.

Shit. He really is angry, huh. When they really, seriously fight, Stan tends to pursue, to hurt the other party before he can get hurt but Ford, Ford retreats. He doesn’t do it out of fear or even an unwillingness to argue with his brother— everyone who’s been around them for more than five minutes knows how much they both love to squabble— but because he needs to cool off before he says something he regrets. The thing about them being twins, despite all the time apart, is that they still know, almost instinctively, exactly how to hit where it hurts.

If Ford’s retreating, he felt, in that moment, like he wanted to hurt Stan.

Shit.

It’s not like it wouldn’t be justified. He’s not sure what he did wrong down there, but he did something that ruined the dive for him. That would be bad enough on its own, he saw how excited his brother was just being down there, but there was an anomaly. Potentially a very dangerous anomaly that’s having a negative effect on biodiversity or some crap. And Stan tore him away from that.

His brother wanted to share this with him, and he ruined it.

He wants to get up and pace out his frustrations, but his legs ache. His head pounds painfully with each rapid beat of his heart. The wind can’t be that cold, but soaked and alone, it has Stan shivering.

Get up, get dry, fix this, Stan tells himself.

He doesn’t move. His pruny hands, still dripping saltwater onto the deck, clench into useless, shaking fists.

Get up, Stan insists, fix this.

Diluted by sea water, blood trickles lazily from a scrape on his calf. He has no idea when or how he got scraped, but he didn’t feel it then and he doesn’t feel it now.

Get up.

Despite everything, his throat feels dry enough to hurt.

Get up.

Saltwater is running into his eyes from his wet hair, stinging with each blink. He can’t even manage to lift his arm to wipe it away.

The door to the cabin swings open, and it’s like a switch is flipped as Stan finally stands. His legs shake beneath his weight, and the gentle rocking nearly sends him right back down to the bench.

“Stanley!” Ford scolds. He’s stripped out of his wetsuit, just wearing his swim shorts and a towel around his shoulders. He has his actual glasses back on, and his hair is dry enough to no longer be dripping at least. Another towel is draped over his arm, hand holding Stan’s glasses.

Oh. So that’s where he went. Obviously. The scared animal in Stan’s chest reluctantly settles.

“Sit! Sit down!” He fusses, and Stan can’t even be mad about his brother insisting on undoing all his hard work. Sitting down is better than collapsing on the deck in front of Ford.

“Get out of your wetsuit, you can’t be comfortable,” Ford says, and Stan can’t really argue with that. He reaches for the zipper on his back, and Ford flits over in an instant to unzip it himself with a, “Oh, let me help.”

Stan stills, just to make sure Ford doesn’t intend to do anything else while he’s still standing over him, but he just gives him a quick once-over and nods, before turning his attention to Stan’s BCD.

Stan leaves him to it, and begins squirming, wiggling, and writhing his way out of the shortie. Once it’s off and in a wet heap by his feet, he pulls his hair out of the tight ponytail he had it in, and starts scrubbing it dry. As much as he likes growing out his hair, but it’ll be a pain to brush it later, and it’s a pain to dry it now.

Ford says something beside him, and Stan stops scrubbing and lets the towel fall around his shoulders. He slides his glasses on to see Ford is staring at the first stage of his regulator with a look somewhere between horror and rage. Stan follows his gaze, and sees that it’s not quite sitting on the tank properly. He’s amazed that neither of them noticed it leaking, because it must have been the whole time.

“Stanley…” Ford says, and that expression settles into guilt.

It’s a look Stan seems to be on the receiving end of more often than he ever expected. Every time Stan has a memory lapse, every time he remembers something unpleasant, every time he references some unsavory part of his past, Ford looks at him like a kicked puppy. He might not directly apologize every time, but he’s done it often enough. Too often, Stan would argue.

He just doesn’t know why he’s doing it right now.

“Stanley, this is all my fault, I… I must have screwed it on wrong, or perhaps I didn’t tighten it properly, I didn’t even check your air supply properly, I let you test your own regulator, and I thought I was watching, I thought it didn’t dip, but it must have been leaking the whole time and I just didn’t notice, this is all my fault and I’m so sorry,” Ford says breathlessly, running his hand through his hair and tugging. “And I shouldn’t have swam off like that, I didn’t even check if you were following once I reached the shelf, I should have stayed close, how long were you without air? No, it doesn’t matter, it was too long, and you had to go so deep to get to me, Stanley, I’m so sorry.”

“Quit it, Poindexter,” Stan huffs, swatting at his wrist. Ford lets go of his own hair and starts shaking out his hand instead, like a cat with a piece of tape stuck to its paw. “I checked my air, it was working fine before we got off the boat. Hell, it was working fine until…”

Stan shifts towards his regulator, now laying on the bench beside him. The knob on the first stage is scraped up, plastic torn, and he holds it out for Ford to see.

“I bumped it against some rocks while I was turning. It must have gotten knocked out of place.”

“It shouldn’t have gotten ‘knocked out of place’ so easily! It must have been to lose in the first place, ergo, it’s my fault,” Ford insists. “I could have killed you with my negligence, Stanley.”

“But you didn’t,” Stan argues. He can’t definitively prove that Ford had attached the first stage properly, and yeah, if he didn’t and that was his fault, that would suck, but Stan was alive. Sore, exhausted, and a little rattled, but alive. They both were.

“But I could have,” Ford repeats.

“And I could throw you off the boat right now,” Stan dismisses, leaning back and waving a hand lazily.

Ford frowns and straightens up into his usual haughty posture.

“… I doubt it,” Ford says, which is as close as he’ll get to admitting defeat in their prior argument.

“Totally could,” Stan mumbles, and then louder, “whatever. Doesn’t matter. The point is, even if you did fuck up, we’re fine.”

“Are you fine?” Ford asks, staring at him with wide, worried eyes.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m fine,” Stan dismisses. “I’m aching like hell but when am I not, am I right?”

Ford frowns at him, but nods anyway.

“I… I truly am sorry, Stanley,” Ford says, soft and painfully genuine. “Regardless of my own role in its failure, this is not how I wanted our first reef dive to go.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t great for me either, but that’s just the way that it is in this bitch of a world,” Stan says, shrugging. His neck jolts painfully. “It was pretty cool before it all went to shit, though.”

Ford smiles slightly, his eyes flashing with that bright-eyed nerd look he gets sometimes.

“It was, wasn’t it? I dove off the coast of Oregon a few times, even explored the Gravity Falls lake once or twice, but neither could even compare. Even if we didn’t find whatever set off my sensor, it was worth seeing,” Ford trails off, his hesitant smile dying on his lips. “Or, it would have been, if I hadn’t nearly gotten you killed.”

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you want me dead, brother of mine,” Stan snarks, elbowing Ford in the ribs.

“I don’t!” Ford protests, offended at the mere idea. “I don't want you dead at all!”

“I know, I know,” Stan says, “you care about me or some crap.”

“I do,” Ford agrees, painfully genuine. “In fact, I care about you so much that I’ll let you take the first shower.”

“I just started to dry off,” Stan grumbles, just to be an ass.

Ford is, as expected, not especially sympathetic. He gently helps Stan to his feet and escorts him down the stairs into their tiny bathroom. Stan wishes he was more upset about the babying than he is, but as it stands, his shaky legs definitely appreciate the support, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

“Holler if you need anything, okay?” Ford says, lingering awkwardly in the doorway as Stan shrugs off the towel Ford brought him. It’s one of the thin ones that dries real fast, and there’s a proper bath towel waiting for him on the closed toilet.

He waves Ford away with a dismissive grunt, and he closes the door as he finally leaves.

The rest of the day proceeds in a similar fashion, with Ford only leaving Stan’s side to fetch things for him. It’s always like this every time Stan gets hurt or something goes wrong, has been ever since the damn memory gun. He can’t even enjoy having someone at his beck and call when that someone is his brother and he looks so damn guilty the whole time.

“C’mon Ford,” he says, tugging his brother down to sit beside him as he settles in to watch tv. “Relax for a second, will you?”

Ford sighs, but sits down beside him and, as usual, shoves his feet beneath Stan’s legs. He can be touchy about being touched sometimes, but he does like the reassurance of having some form of contact. Usually, it’s brushing elbows or butting his head against Stan’s shoulder or shoving his cold little toes under Stan’s thighs when they sit next to each other. He wasn’t always like this, but Stan has gotten used to it.

“I’m okay, got it?” Stan insists, tilting his head to butt it gently against Ford’s.

“… got it,” Ford says softly.

He repositions himself to settle into Stan’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. His hair is still slightly wet; his thick curls don’t let go of moisture easily, especially not in this humidity, but Stan doesn’t mind as much as he’s sure Ford would if their positions were reversed.

His need for reassurance seems to have overcome his general aversion to touch, and Stan is happy to oblige, even if that means being stuck on the couch for a few hours after he would have preferred to go to sleep because Ford passed out on his shoulder.

[nijigasakilove]

Time is passing so quickly in Green Gables, really feels like we’re watching Anne and the girls grow up right before our eyes, despite all that, kids will still be kids. I knew as soon as they suggested the boat thing it was gonna go terrible 😂 all of them gassing up Anne so she’d be the test dummy to get in the boat had me cracking up.

Good thing Gilbert happened to be in the area to save Anne, but I hate how mean she is to him 😭 it’s been like two years since they first met and she still hasn’t let that carrots hair joke go. “I’ll never be your friend” like cmon Anne, this is next level tsundere stuff. Ideal world would be an Anne/Diana ship, but realistically… Gilbert, we’re rooting for you!

“You’ll get a salary for teaching but a husband pays you nothing.” Oh Jane the feminist icon you are.

It’s funny how even back then kids were going thru the “I don’t know what I want to do in life” phase. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s what makes stories like these so timeless.

I knew Miss Stacy would have a massive impact on the kids as soon as she got introduced, but man everyone begging her to stay until they finish school and seeing her tear up got me emotional. It has to be such a wonderful feeling to have touched the lives of young people like that. Teachers are heroes and they don’t get paid nearly enough! Anne is gonna make a great teacher I know it, she’s already basically been the class romance instructor 😂

NOO MATTHEW HEART ATTACK??! I really hope they were able to get a doctor to him asap. Seems like he might have a bit of heart disease given he’d been clutching his chest for months. Please be ok 🙏🏾