#spark plug lighthouse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pogueszn · 5 years ago

Text

you got my devotion, but man i can hate you somtimes

summary: jj’s gets wrapped up in a relationship with the cool girl who works the front desk.

warnings: a bit of angst, drug use, a lil steamy at some points, and some tooth rotting fluff

word count: 7.8k

JJ HAD A LOT OF FRIENDS AT WORK

JJ had a lot of friends wherever he went, he was just that type of person. He drew people in like a lighthouse - he was an enigma that most people couldn’t stand not talking to him at least once. He made friends easily. There wasn’t anyone at work who truly disliked him. Some of the adults may have thought of him as a pesky teenager but they still cared for him nonetheless. He had a lot of friends at work but Y/n was his best friend there.

Y/n had moved to the OBX about three months ago and had been working at the hotel ever since. JJ was drawn to her the second she walked in asking about job openings. She had the best sense of style he’d seen. Everyone on the island either lived in bathing suits or polos- she walked in with beige slacks, an oversized graphic tee, complemented by her choice of jewelry, and the cleanest pair of shoes he’d ever seen. Y/n had an aura about her that JJ couldn’t have been able to ignore even if he wanted to. He realized quickly that they shared the same humor and had some of the same personality traits. They’ve never hung out outside of work but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she was fun. JJ had always thought she was gorgeous - his mouth ran dry the first time he saw her - and he flirted with her constantly. He was pleasantly surprised when she started flirting back with him. It was almost like she knew that he thought she was one of the most - if not the most - beautiful girl he’d ever seen and lived to tease him about it. But neither of them ventured further than that. They both knew there was a spark but they never mentioned it. Instead, they both lived in their bubble, where they flirted with each other and pretended that was where it stopped.

JJ walked into work, a smile pulling at his cheeks when he saw her at the front desk. She nods at him, her own smile slipping onto her lips.

“Maybaaaannkkk!” She greeted.

He stepped up to the counter, greeting her with the handshake they had made up almost two months ago.

“How’s your morning going?”

He shrugged, leaning on his elbows on the counter, mirroring her stance,

“Eh, could be better.” He replied.

“How so?”

“I could be smoking a joint on the beach.”

She groaned, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she rolled her head. He looked her up and down. This girl was a trip. He doesn’t know if she’s oblivious to the power she has over him or if she knows and just loved to get him worked up- he leaned more towards the latter more and more each day.

“God, I would kill for a backwood right now.”

JJ rolled his shoulders, shifting his feet,

“I’ve never smoked a backwood before.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open. He almost laughed but the look in her eye stops him. There’s something about it that made his stomach flip - he couldn’t remember the last time a girl made him feel like that.

“You’ve never smoked a backwood?” She questioned.

He shook his head.

She tapped the counter, her rings clattering against it. She shifted to grab her phone, unlocking it before looking back at him.

“Welp, that’s changing, immediately. I’m gonna hit up my guy and then I’ll get back to you on a day - whenever this motherfucker texts me back.” She laughed.

He laughed with her.

“I thought I was your plug?” He asked.

“Yeah, that was before I knew my way around.”

He let out a small chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his Juul and looked around, scanning the area for the few uptight workers before taking a hit.

“I can’t believe this is gonna be the first time we hung out outside of work.” He stated.

“I know,” she replied, “what were we thinking?”

“No clue.”

He offered his Juul to her with an outstretched hand. There was a light shine in her eyes when he turned it towards her. Her hand reached for it but he pulled it back. Her eyebrows furrowed before he offered it again. She scoffed at him but she still leaned across the counter to take a hit. Her eyes stayed on his when she took her hit. He swallowed, a tingle going up his spine. She pulled away after a moment, leaning back and letting the smoke come out in a cloud before sucking it back in. She blew the vape back out after a second. Their eyes were still locked, the tension in the room thicker than either of them were willing to admit. She licked her lips, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Get to work, Maybank.”

He smirked back at her,

“Yes, ma’am.”

THE SUN HAD ALMOST SET.

The sky painted with mellow colors as the sun sat low in the sky. The pogues laughed in John B’s yard, all sat around the fire even though the air was still too warm for any of them to find any comfort in the heat. John B threw another piece of wood in the fire before he dusted his hands off and sat back down in his seat. JJ was caught up in telling the pogues another funny story about what Y/n had done at work earlier that day.

“I still can’t believe we haven’t met this girl yet,” Kiara said.

The other boys nodded in agreement. With the number of stories JJ’s told them, and the amount of time Y/n’s name left his mouth daily they felt like they already knew her.

“Dude, she’s so dope,” JJ stated, “she’s like, the coolest girl I’ve ever met.”

Kie gasped in faux offense, her hand coming to rest over her heart as John B wiggled in his seat across the fire, a teasing smile appearing on his lips,

“Ooooh, JJ has a crush!” he sang.

JJ scoffed, throwing his empty beer can at him, feeling proud when JB groaned as the can bounced off his head.

“I don’t have a crush, alright,” JJ responded, “I mean, she’s hot or whatever and if she wanted to bone, I’d be totally down but she’s just cool, man. You guys would like her.”

John B pursed his lips at him, nodding - though he was unconvinced. John B had known JJ since third grade, he’d only seen him talk about a girl like this a total of three times in his life. The first was Ellie Thrasher, a blonde girl whose hair stayed in messy braids all year long in fourth grade. Then there was River in eighth, she had a chip on her shoulder the size of South America and despised JJ with her entire being. John B never figured out what he saw in her. Then there was Kie - until he realized that the door was locked and settled on being her friend. John B knew JJ and he knew there was more to Y/n than JJ was letting on.

“Okay, bud.”

The talk of Y/n dwindled out, their conversations drifting from far and wide. Kie and Pope bickered off to the side of which Mario Kart character was the best while John B and JJ sat quietly, laughing at the occasional dig the other two would throw at each other. JJ broke off another piece of chocolate from the bar he nabbed at work and tossed it in his mouth. He jumped slightly when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He struggled to get it out in the position he was in, groaning as he dug through his pant pockets.

Y/n/n

You up for a smoke sesh tomorrow after your shift?

JJ HAD BEEN WATCHING THE CLOCK ALL DAY.

The hand taunted him every time he looked up and barely a minute had passed from the last he checked. He tried keeping himself preoccupied as he could, challenging himself to not look at the clock for as long as he could. The shifts JJ didn’t share with Y/n were always slow. He spent his breaks texting her, he’d even text her during work even though he knew Andrew would be on his ass if he found him on his phone rather than bussing tables.

When his shift was finally over he bounded to the locker room, shedding himself of his clothes and jumping into some fresh ones. JJ had dashed out of the hotel, sparing a few quick goodbyes to the coworkers he passed, and begun scanning the parking lot for Y/n’s car. Y/n had spotted him first though and quickly put her car in drive and drove the short distance to pick him up. She came to a slow stop in front of him, music swept outside of the car as she rolled down her window, a disposable vape in between her lips. She hung her hand outside the window, flicking her lighter on,

“You ready to get fucked up, Maybank?” the devilish smirk on her face made his stomach tighten.

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, before jogging in front of her car and slipping into the passenger seat.

Y/n smiled at him, reminding him to buckle his seat belt before peeling out of the hotel parking lot. They laughed together, sharing stories about their day, cracking jokes, and dancing to the music before Y/n decided she found the perfect spot. She all but kicked him out of the car, demanding he help her put down the seats in the back so they could hotbox her car.

“God,” he sighed, “I think I might be in love with you.”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes,

“Just help me get these down will, ya?”

He did just that, sliding in through her trunk once all the seats were put down. Y/n grabbed her backpack, pulling out her baggie, along with two bottles of juice and some snacks. She opened the baggie, the aroma filling up the car immediately.

“Ooh! That’s some strong shit right there,” he commented.

Y/n chuckled and nodded her head. She offered the backwood and the lighter to him, bowing her head.

“You may do the honors,” she said, her posh accent made JJ chuckle.

“Why thank you, m’lady,”

He placed it in his mouth, taking a puff as the lighter sparked the top. The smoke was hot as it hit his lungs, he winced as he pulled it back. He coughed, blowing the smoke out through his mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said in between a few coughs, “that’s it.”

Y/n laughed at him, taking the blunt back from him,

“I told you,” she said, “this shits the best.”

They passed the backwood back and forth for a while, talking about whatever came to their mind as the car filled with the smoke. JJ couldn’t keep the smile off his face at the sound of her laugh. Her head is thrown back against the cup holder, a few wheezes making their way out of her mouth before she calmed herself. She leaned up slightly to pass it back, dabbing a few tears that had tried to slip from her eyes with her free hand.

“Oh, you’re gone,” their fingers grazed each other when he took the backwood from her, “no more for you.”

She gasped, sitting up straighter,

“No!” she whined.

JJ laughed at her, tapping the ash off in Y/n’s empty juice bottle. They both fell silent, the only sound was the music flowing from the stereo. She nudged his knee with her foot. He nudged her back. He licked his lips before he took another hit, not catching the way Y/n’s gaze slips to his mouth. She caught herself quickly though, occupying herself with switching the song.

“Okay,” he spoke, “tell me about your first kiss.”

That made her laugh. She shook her head and wiggled her fingers at him, silently asking him to pass it back.

“Nothing to tell,” she replied.

JJ pulled it further from her grasp,

“No, no, no,” he said, “I know there’s a story there and I want to hear it.”

Y/n said nothing as she shifted up on her knees, leaning over him to grab it back. JJ’s mouth went dry as he stared up at her. But it was totally just the weed. Cottonmouth was a bitch.

“I’ll compromise,” she replied, leaning back to her respective side of the car, placing the blunt back in her mouth, “when it happens I’ll tell you.”

JJ shot up, his eyebrows furrowed,

“Wait, are you saying that you haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

“Yep,” she answered, “I’m completely kiss-less.”

The look on JJ’s face sent her into a fit of giggles. He had a deep crease in between his eyebrows; they were furrowed so hard, his mouth was slightly agape as his eyes bounced all over the car like he was scanning for the answer.

“But - like how? How the fuck have you not had your first kiss yet? You’re hot as shit! That makes like...zero sense, dude!”

Y/n smirked from across the car,

“You think I’m hot?”

The look on her face made him freeze. Her mouth was upturned, her eyes glassy and red as she raised her eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat, his body ticking upwards, he moved as if he was trying to get comfortable.

“I mean…” he started, “yeah. I flirt with you all the time.”

She let the smoke roll out of her mouth before pulling it back through her nose - fuck that was hot - she held it in her lungs for a few seconds then she blew it back out.

“You flirt with everyone, JJ,” she said, “I didn’t take it personally.”

He loved the way his name sounded coming from her mouth. Y/n stuck to calling him Maybank most of the time - which used to bother him because it reminded him of his dad, but he didn’t mind it from her after a while. She held his name so safely in her mouth and never let it come out harsh, only kindly. But hearing his name - not his last name but his name - roll off her tongue just sounded so heavenly.

She was still smiling at him, her eyes twinkled with something JJ - in his compromised mind - couldn’t put his finger on. A smile formed his lips, he shook his head and looked away from her.

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that,” he said.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfy?” she questioned.

JJ shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, glancing up at her through his lashes. She started to laugh again.

“What?” he asked.

Y/n wiggled her shoulders in a little dance,

“You think I’m hot,” she teased.

JJ shook his head at her, trying to keep the smile off of his face, he threw his empty bag of chips at her.

“Oh, shut up, man!”

The car fell silent again before Y/n balanced the backwood on their makeshift ashtray and shifted back onto her knees. She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth and shuffled over to him. His eyes are glued to her as she sits on her thighs in between his widely spread legs. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was beating out of his chest. That couldn’t be normal. JJ swallowed thickly, licking his lips in a nervous tick. She scooted an inch closer to him.

“You wanna take my first kiss, Maybank?”

JJ nearly choked on his own spit. He was looking up at her, his wide-eyed expression made a burst of confidence course through her body. And he knew it too. He cleared his throat again, pressing his shoulders into the side of her car, sitting up straighter.

“Dunno,” he replied, “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Ooohh,” she was calling his bluff, “I get it.”

She leaned back, turning to go back to the other side of the car. JJ’s hands shot out and made themselves at home on her cheeks. He surged forward, pressed his lips against hers. She made a noise against his lips as her hands hesitantly came to rest on his wrists. JJ’s lips moved at a leisurely pace against hers, taking his time getting to know his way around. She was in his lap now, her legs thrown on either side of his, one of his hands slid down to rest above her hip. He pulled away after a few moments. She breathed heavily, her forehead resting against his own. JJ was the first to speak.

“You sure you’ve never done that before?”

“Positive,” she replied.

She shifted backward, moving the ashtray off to the side before laying on the back of the seats, pulling him on top of her by his forearm. Her hands glided up his arms and over his shoulders and settled on cradling the back of his head, her thumbs resting on his cheeks. She pulled him toward her, bumping his nose with hers before she covered his lips with hers.

HE ENDED UP TAKING MORE THAN HER FIRST KISS THAT NIGHT.

The events of Friday night still replayed in his mind, coming and going in flashes. He could be talking with Pope, then he’d remember the song that was playing, her hand in his hair. The pogues could be in the middle of the marsh just goofing off, being rowdy teenagers and then he’d remember the way her skin felt and the way she sounded. They laid in the parking lot for hours, Y/n laying on his chest as he caressed her bare back. She drew shapes on him as they talked about anything from pop culture to philosophy. She told him about her best friend Maddy, her situation and that her parents adopted her almost a year ago and JJ told her that his relationship with his father wasn’t great. They went on for hours and it wasn’t until the sun had gone down and the sky had turned black did they decide it was time to go home.

Y/n dropped him off at John B’s, JJ lingered in her car, a smile on his face as she fiddled with his fingers. It was only after she yawned for the second time did JJ decide to let her go home. He left her with not one but two goodnight kisses. She waited for him to get inside before she left. They hadn’t seen each other since Friday but they’d been texting each other nonstop over the weekend. Both Y/n and JJ’s friends had grown tired of the constant buzzing of their phones but neither of them cared. They were too caught up with themselves to care about their teasing. For the most part, they had decided to keep what happened to themselves - Maddy who basically extracted it from her after finding the few hickies JJ had left on her - they were in their own little bubble, and when they were together it was like they were the only people on earth. It was just JJ, Y/n, and a playlist filled with all their favorite songs.

Mondays were usually the worst day of the week for JJ, after a fun weekend JJ always dreaded going to sleep on Sunday nights. But this time around, JJ woke up before his phone could wake him. John B was shocked to find him in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand rather than slumped over a lumpy pillow in his room.

“Why’re you up so early?”

JJ shrugged his shoulders, taking another sip of the coffee he didn’t like,

“Couldn’t sleep.”

John B all but kicked JJ out of the van when they got to the hotel, tired of his nagging for him to hurry and get ready because “didn’t want to be late for work.” When JJ started caring about being late for work was beyond him.

“Hey,” John B called, “you need me to pick you up?”

JJ shook his head, throwing his backpack over his shoulder,

“Nah, Y/n’ll give me a ride.”

John B tried to hide the smirk threatened to appear on his face. John B suspicious that something had happened between the pair on Friday night. JB had happened to be in the kitchen when JJ came back, he had a smile he couldn’t keep off his face and he stood a little taller, prouder than he did when he left. But he kept it to himself. The two boys bid their goodbyes and JJ made his way inside.

Y/n is making her way out the back door when JJ walks through the front. She gripped the bag of trash tightly in her fist to keep it from slipping. Taking out the trash wasn’t in her job description as a receptionist but who cared, she was getting paid. She threw the bag into the dumpster, dusting her hands for good measure. Before she had a chance to turn around, she felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around her middle, lifting her off the ground. She let out a squeal, ready to shout for help before she heard a familiar laugh. She gasped as JJ moved her away from the door and pressed her against the wall.

“Shit, JJ!” she exclaimed, slapping his arm, “you scared the hell out of me!”

He spared her a quick sorry and leaned in, pressing his mouth against hers. She smiled into his lips as her fingers slipped into his hair. She pulled back when she felt his tongue run across his bottom lip. She laughed when he chased after her, he got one short kiss in before she pushed him back by the shoulders

“I missed you,” she said.

She felt her heart flutter when he smiled at her, her hands coming to rest on his forearms as his hands danced dangerously close to the hem of her pleated skirt.

“I missed you too,” he replied, “we were having a nice conversation last night until you ghosted me.”

She laughed at him,

“I didn’t ghost you, I just clunked out.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, teasingly.

“Hey!” her hands rose in surrender, “I was a tired girl, bud!”

“Oh, my God!” he laughed, “do not call me bud!”

“Why? Does it get you going?” she teased.

“Oh, yeah, bud, really does it for me.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, their eyes locked on each other. JJ’s thumbs caressed the top of her thighs before he pulled one hand back, rubbing his nose.

“Hey, there’s this new ice cream place that just opened up the other day,” he said, “I was thinking of checking it out this Saturday. You tryna come?”

“I’m down for ice cream,” she replied with a nod.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at your place -”

“Y/n! What’d you do? Fall in the dumpster?”

Y/n place her finger over JJ’s mouth, her eyes wide as she held back a laugh,

“Coming, Mama L!”

“I’ll text you later,” she said, giving him a fast kiss on the corner of his mouth and speed walking back inside.

“THIS IS TOTALLY A DATE.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at her dark-haired friend, adjusting her dress in the mirror.

“It’s not a date.”

Maddy rolled her eyes from Y/n’s bed, tossing her phone to the other side and leaning on her elbows to look at her properly.

“Bitch, he asked you to get ice cream after he fucked you in the back of your car,” she stated, “it’s a date.”

“It’s not a date, Mads!” She laughed.

Maddy sighed through her nose, waving her hand in a shooing motion. She muttered a ‘whatever’ before turning the speaker up. While Y/n finished getting ready - another argument Maddy used in her favor. “If this isn’t a date, why are you getting so dolled up? Hm?” Maddy grabbed Y/n’s phone to change the song, while she was doing so, the text banner fell down.

J dog I’m outside :)

“Lover boy’s here,” Maddy said, offering Y/n her phone. Maddy pursed her lips as Y/n jogged to retrieve her phone. Maddy had a comment about her being so excited but she held back. Y/n hurried to grab her speaker and shove it in her bag, pressing a fast kiss on Maddy’s cheek and bidding her goodbye.

“Don’t get pregnant!”

Y/n flipped her off and said a quick goodbye to her parents and grabbed her keys. JJ lingered by the big tree in her front yard, turning around quickly when he heard the door open. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up when his eyes widened slightly. He walked to meet her halfway.

“I feel like I’m under dressed,” he said.

Y/n took her last few steps,

“Nah,” she said, looking him over. She leaned onto her toes, pretending she was going in for a kiss only to pull away just as JJ’s lips brushed hers, twirling around him and walking backwards towards her car while she laughed at his reaction.

“That was wrong on so many levels,” he said, still standing in the same place.

“Come on, Maybank! We got ice cream to eat!”

The ice cream parlor was quaint. It was a small shop that was run by an elderly woman who finally gained the courage to open this place up just recently. Y/n and the woman - who’s name was Petunia - had a long conversation about this place while JJ chimed in here and there but mostly just watched with a small smile on his face. Y/n ordered french vanilla - which JJ teased her for being so plain, which in return earned a sweet “there’s nothin’ wrong with a little vanilla!” from Ms. Petunia, making Y/n raise her eyebrows with a proud look on her face - while JJ ordered himself a rocky road. Y/n paid for both - much to JJ’s dismay. Ms. Petunia laughed while they wrestled in her lobby to give her the money.

“The two of you make a very cute couple,” she told them as she shoved the money in the register.

The pair didn’t say a word, both avoiding eye contact with each other and Ms. Petunia. But she didn’t miss JJ’s reddening cheeks and the little grins on both of their faces. She handed them their ice cream cones and waved goodbye. Y/n promised she would come back soon and bring more of her friends.

JJ and Y/n ate their ice cream as they walked down the street falling into conversation easily before JJ stuck a finger into Y/n’s vanilla cone and swiped it on her nose. She gasped, scrunching her nose - he was happy he had his phone out and managed to record her cute face.

“Why did you have to stick your finger in mine?” she laughed, wiping the ice cream off on her napkin, “now it’s contaminated!”

He laughed loudly,

“Contaminated?!”

“Yes!”

They ended up driving to the beach, staying in the parking lot. Their feet rocked back and forth as they sat in the trunk, music filling the air from the speaker that was sat in the cup holder.

“So, you just keep these in your car at, like, all times?” JJ questioned, fiddling with Y/n’s pair of roller skates.

Y/n nodded quickly,

“Yep,” she answered, “never know when you’re gonna wanna skate.”

JJ chuckled.

“Is it bad I wanna see you totally wipe out on these things?”

She let out a laugh, tossing her head back before she turned to look at him.

“I wouldn’t wipe out.”

JJ hummed before he hopped out of the trunk, crouching down and pulling her shoes off.

“What’re you doing?” she laughed.

“You’re gonna show me that you won’t wipe out.”

“Oh, I am?”

JJ hummed in response. He grabbed the skates out of the trunk, easing her foot inside and tying them up. The ties were wonky but Y/n didn’t mind. JJ leaned into the trunk, his hands on either side of her. She had the overwhelming urge to kiss him but she held back. She didn’t know why.

“You ready, champ?”

“Born ready, bud.”

JJ shook his head before he plopped back down in the trunk. As she pushed herself out of the car she gasped as the song switched,

“I love this song!”

JJ tapped her phone to turn it on. Sunflower Vol. 6. He looked back up at her quickly, watching her as she rolled around the empty parking lot. Her dress swayed as she danced, her eyes closed - confident enough in her skills to know she wouldn’t crash. The wind blew her hair and she didn’t bother to fix it. JJ’s eyes were fixed on her, he swallowed hard. JJ always knew she was beautiful but there was something about her right now that took his breath away. She was in her element, uncaring of the world around her as she did something she loved listening to one of her favorite songs. He opened his phone and added the song to his own playlist.

After a while of skating they decide to go down to the beach and watch the ocean. Y/n listened intently while JJ rambled on about surfing, he talked with such animation and passion it brought a smile to her face. She couldn’t surf and wasn’t very fond of the idea of venturing that deep in the ocean but JJ enjoyed it, so she’d enjoy listening to him talking about it.

“I wanna see you surf.”

He smiled,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” she laughed, “I showed you my hobby, now you gotta show me yours.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “I’ll pick you up bright and early and you can sit on the beach because you’re a scaredy-cat.”

“Oh, no, Maybank, that’s not gonna work on me. You’re not gonna get me in the ocean.”

“I think you underestimate my abilities.”

“I think you underestimate my stubbornness.”

Y/n was laying down on the blanket she brought from the car, looking up at him with a sparkle in her eye. JJ leaned down, grabbing her smaller hand in his and placing her limp palm on his cheek.

“You’re telling me you’re gonna say no to this face?” he questioned, poking his bottom lip out in a pout.

JJ felt butterflies swarm in his stomach when her thumb caressed his cheekbone. She flips her hand, letting the back of her fingers run down his face before squishing his cheeks.

“I’m telling you I’m gonna say no to this face.”

He pulled his face from her hands, plopping down, resting his full weight on her. She groaned, she tried to push him off but it was no use.

“Oh, Jesus, JJ! Get off of me!” she exclaimed, “I can’t breathe!”

JJ laughed into her neck, resting on her for a few seconds longer before he pushed up on his arm. His eyes glanced down to her mouth that was pulled into a perfect smile. Y/n reached her hand up, snatching his hat off of his head and flipping it around so that the bill was backwards. He can’t fight off the urge to kiss her any longer. His hand slid to cradle her face before slipping into her hair. JJ’s heart skipped a beat from the sound she made against his lips. She still tasted faintly of her vanilla ice cream, her lips were soft - so much softer than his own. The hand in her hair moved down her body, giving her thigh a squeeze before slipping under her dress. She gasped and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. He smirked into the kiss when he felt goosebumps rise on her skin. He slipped his first three fingers under the hemline of her underwear as his lips drifted from her mouth down to her neck.

Suddenly, Y/n pushed him back- and if it wasn’t for the mischievous grin on her face he would’ve thought he’d done something wrong. His kiss swollen lips were agape as he watched her pick herself up off the sand and start walking up the beach. Just as he went to ask her where she was going she called out to him,

“You comin’ or am I gonna have to take care of myself, Maybank?”

His lips spread into a smile as he nearly tripped over his feet trying to get up. He gets about three feet from their spot before she called out again.

“Don’t forget the blanket!”

IT HAD BEEN ALMOST TWO MONTHS SINCE THE FIRST TIME THEY KISSED.

It had been nine weeks of sneaking around, sneaking out to meet, sneaking into houses. It had been sixty days of sneaking. The ‘keep it between us’ thing was fun at first - even though JJ had run into Maddy a few times in the hallway when he’d have to go to the bathroom, so keeping it between them and Maddy - there was something exciting about being the only people who knew. But now, things were more tiring than fun. It didn’t take Y/n long to realize how she felt about him. She’d always had a little crush on him but had seen the way JJ had acted around other girls and took it with a grain of salt. Until that day in the back of her car, Y/n had settled for just being JJ’s friend and nothing more. But now she had him - sort of.

They laid in JJ’s bed at John B’s, the fan whirling in the corner of his room was the only sound besides their soft breathing. Y/n had her head resting on his chest, her fingers drawing shapes on his side, tickling him ever so often, as JJ hand played with her hair. She chewed on her lip, thinking quickly of what she wanted to say. She drew one last star on his side before she spoke,

“Hey, JJ?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“What’re we doing?”

A laughed vibrated through his chest, his fingers still scratching at her scalp.

“We’re laying in bed.”

“No, JJ,” she replied, “what are we doing? Are we dating?”

Y/n felt JJ stiffen underneath her, his heart rate started to pick up - the sound was deafening. His hand stilled in her hair and Y/n looked up at him, trying to read his expression the best she could in the dark.

“I - um, I,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t really date.”

JJ’s heart clenched when he felt her deflate against him. She pulled off of him, holding the sheet to her chest.

“Oh.”

“But that doesn’t change anything!” he said, his hand resting on her elbow, “nothing has to change.”

Y/n sighed, tossing the sheet to the side and blindly looking for her discarded clothes.

“Y/n...” he trailed.

“No, it’s whatever, J,” she said as she tugged on her t-shirt, “I know how it goes, okay? You want the girlfriend treatment but you don’t want the girlfriend.”

“Y/n, would you just wait? Just listen -”

“No, JJ, I’ve heard this story a million fucking times, okay? If that’s what you want to do then fine but it’s not gonna be me. I’m not the girl you sleep with and-and do all the coupley shit with and then say we’re not together. That’s not me.”

JJ was out of the bed, desperately trying to get her to stop, to listen to his proposition but Y/n always stood her ground. It was something he always liked about her. He liked a lot of things about her but fuck did she scare him. He’d never felt like this about anyone before - anytime he’d thought in the past that he liked a girl, he hadn’t. Being with Y/n was like being in the ocean after years of only having puddles. But he liked things the way they were. Where he could pretend that it was just good fun, that Y/n didn’t have the power to crush his heart if she wanted to.

“Dating just - “ he’s struggling to find the words but Y/n has one foot out of the window, quite literally, “it’s just not for me. But I like you, I really, really fucking do.”

The moon was shining in through his window, her eyes were almost glowing. And he could see it - his words weren’t enough. Both of them felt like there were thousands of miles between them, each wanting to grab the other in their arms and take back everything they said and tell them they could do whatever they wanted as long as it meant they’d stay. Neither of them move. Y/n held down a growl as she felt tears prick her eyes, she rolled her lips.

“I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

And she was gone.

JJ tugged at the roots of his hair, knotty blonde clumps clenched tightly in his fists. He huffed before he turned, kicking his bed with the bottom of his foot, throwing his blankets off of his bed and kicking them into the wall. It took him awhile but he finally settled back down on his bare bed, his face still red with anger as he rested his head on his pillow. He cursed as he felt a tear slip down his face, the tear settling on the pillow case in a small wet spot, a constant reminder that once again he messed things up.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANNA GO TONIGHT?”

Maddy stood in her closet, searching through the racks of clothes to find an outfit while Y/n sat at her vanity.

“Why wouldn’t I go?” Y/n replied.

Maddy rolled her eyes. She wished Y/n would stop playing the tough girl act - like she didn’t hear her cry every night through her bedroom walls. She’d known Y/n since they were nine years old, she knew all of her tells and knew more than Y/n thought she did - She knew she was hurting. She just wished she didn’t feel like she had to pretend she wasn’t.

“Why? Because JJ is most definitely going to be there.”

“I don’t care.”

Maddy bit her tongue and took a deep breath.

“I know we always talk about how men are shit and we don’t need them, but it’s okay if you’re upset about what happened with JJ.” she said.

Y/n shook her head, looking at Maddy over her shoulder, her eyeliner in hand.

“I’m okay, Mads, promise.”

“You’re not,” Maddy replied, “you can lie to yourself all you want but I know the truth, babe. And it’s okay.”

Maddy walked over to her, her hands cupped her head as she kissed her hair.

“I got you.”

Maddy turned around to get changed, leaving Y/n to fight her tears off by herself.

JJ wasn’t doing any better. It didn’t take long for the pogues to realize something was wrong but one thing Y/n and JJ had in common was that they felt as if they needed to fight their battles by themselves. So JJ kept his hardships to himself, attempting to drown his thoughts with weed - though every time he took a hit of his joint he was reminded of the day in the back of Y/n’s car. When the pogues suggested a kegger at the Boneyard he jumped at the opportunity to get his mind off of things.

JJ had been doing an okay job if you asked him until he saw Maddy and Y/n by the keg. John B chatted with them, unaware that the girl who held JJ’s heart in her hand was standing in front of him. He felt his heart pound in his chest. He hadn’t seen her since that night in his bedroom. He still had the pictures and the videos he took of her, that he spent much more time looking at than he’d care to admit, but there was nothing like seeing her in person. His gaze was so fixed on her that he hadn’t even noticed Pope was standing next to him.

“That’s her, isn’t it?”

JJ jumped, glaring at Pope once he slowed his heart rate.

“Jesus!” he groaned, “don’t sneak up on me like that, man.”

“I’ve been standing here for like two minutes,” Pope replied, “but that’s her, right? Y/n?”

JJ nodded, taking another sip of his beer,

“Yep,” he sighed, pointing her out for him, “a real looker, huh, Pope?”

The two boys fell silent before JJ took a deep breath, Pope looked over at him.

“I messed things up, man,” he said, “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Pope pondered for a moment before he spoke,

“You should talk to her.”

“It’s not that easy,” JJ replied, scratching the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

“Just be honest,” Pope suggested, “tell her how you feel.”

“Easier said than done,” JJ stated.

Pope rolled his eyes at him.

“So, you’re just gonna not talk to her and mope around for the rest of your life instead of telling her how you feel? That’s bullshit,” Pope took him by the shoulder, “what’s the worst she’s gonna say? You guys aren’t talking already so either things are gonna stay the same or you can go back to the way things were.”

JJ stared at him. He had a point - and a good one too, the look on his face said that he knew it too. JJ handed him his drink before he kissed his cheek,

“Thanks, man.”

Pope tipped both cups at him as he watched JJ walk across the beach to get to her.

“In coming,” Maddy said, pointing at JJ over Y/n’s shoulder.

“Shit,” she cursed.

Y/n gulpped as JJ stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, head bowed.

“Can we talk?”

Y/n rolled her lips together, looking to Maddy, who shrugged shoulders - silently telling her it was her decision. Her shoulders twitched as anxiety washed over her.

“I don’t know, JJ..” the look on his face was almost enough to make her swallow her words, “I think we want different things. I think it’s best if we just stay clear of each other for a while.”

She grabbed Maddy by the arm quickly, dragging her away before she had a chance to change her mind. Maddy followed her wordlessly, taking her arm from her hand to wrap her arms around her.

JJ’s heart pounded in his ears. She was walking away from him - again. JJ’s body jittered as he licked his lips. He didn’t want things to end like this. His eyes glanced around the Boneyard before they settled on the table where two groups were playing beer pong. He looked back at Y/n, she was getting further away from him. He let her walk away once. He couldn’t do it again.

JJ jumped onto the cheap table, both groups yelling profanities at him trying to get him to move.

“Man, what the fuck? Move!”

Beer coated his boots but he didn’t care.

“Y/n!” his shout captured the attention of nearly the whole beach, nerves set in almost immediately.

Y/n turned around with wide eyes while Maddy raised her eyebrows, her head twitching to the side,

“Bold move.” she said.

“I’ve realized some things, Y/n,” he started, “you’re, like, the coolest fucking girl to ever walk the earth and I was an idiot because we don’t want different things, okay? I wanna be with you, I wanna be your boyfriend, and I wanna take you on dates and shit because you deserve it! You deserve the world, okay, and if you’re still willing to have me I wanna be the one to give it to you.”

They stared at each other for a few moments. JJ had a pit in his stomach as he tried to read her expression. He saw Maddy say something to her and then nudge her in his direction. He jumped off of the table, much to the teams relief, when she started walking over to him. He met her in the middle, nerves still flowing through him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

JJ nodded,

“Yes - very aware.”

Y/n laughed at him. Her hand came up to his neck, pulling him to her lips. JJ melted into her immediately, his hands coming to cradle the back of her head, ignoring the few hoots and hollers he heard. There were countless people on the beach but to them it felt like it was only the two of them. Cliche, they knew. But it had always felt that way and it always felt right.

Y/N FIT IN THE GROUP PERFECTLY.

Just like JJ thought she would. All five of them laughed together like they’d been friends there whole life. Like Y/n had been a missing puzzle piece to all of them - not just JJ. She had her head in his lap, engaged in a conversation with Kie as JJ fiddled with her hair absentmindedly. Things went back to the way they were after the beach, it was like nothing had changed. The pogues had commented on how well they fit together and neither of them could disagree.

A smile pulled at JJ’s mouth as Y/n laughed at something Pope had said, causing Kie to slap his arm. She looked up at him to see if he was laughing too, her smile grew wider when she found him already looking at him.

“What?”

JJ shook his head, pursing him lips,

“Nothin’.”

Y/n grabbed his hand and kissed his fingers before she looked back at the group, continuing her conversation. JJ hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Before his happiness came and went in waves and he always had an unsettling feeling that his happiness would never last forever. That is was just a fleeting moment before he hit the bottom again. He had no doubt that he would still have his lows but Y/n had become a ray of light in his life, a beacon that would call out to him so he could find his way back. Y/n had come into his life randomly - she used to just be the hot girl who worked with him but she had changed his was of thinking. JJ used to think that dating wasn’t for him. But it was - as long as it was with Y/n.

He leaned back into his seat, cradling her hand to his chest as he listened to everyone laugh and joke like it was his favorite melody. JJ felt peace wash over him and for the first time since he was a little boy he wasn’t worried about it fading away.

#jj maybank #jj imagine #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx #obx fanfiction #jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #.･✩°｡⋆ my writing .･✩°｡⋆

2K notes · View notes

moonbeam-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

Light of Our Lives Part 5

Moonrise! This is going to be pretty much a bunch of drabbles put together. I can’t write out a full chapter right now so you can have these. Tw:

Paris-Jaide had on a green hoodie as she walked through the city. Elmo and Bud followed behind her, in their respective disguises. Tonight wasn’t even for a heist. Tonight, they just needed to move around and get some fresh air. But, being criminals and presumed dead, the disguises were still needed. It had been almost two months now since the incident at the dam. Summer was shifting away, autumn now in its place. The late night air was crisp and refreshing. Paris-Jaide skipped ahead of her parents a bit, looking around. She didn’t know much about the city. But parts seemed familiar. She looked up at a tall building. That was a department store. She scrunched her nose up at it. It only recalled boredom and agitation in her mind. So she continued walking. Bud noticed the short shift in her mood.

When she continued moving, he put it out of his mind. Elmo did things like that occasionally, struggling with his amnesia. It made sense that Paris-Jaide would also have issues with that. Her memory after the incident wasn’t the best. She had no recollection of before, that was sure. Even aside from that, she had a patchy memory. That was part of the reason they’d come out here. It was her first time downtown in a while. Maybe something would ring a bell.

Elmo caught up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You know Mousy’s?” he asked, jabbing a thumb back at the tall store.

Paris-Jaide looked back at it and shrugged. “I think. It stresses me out just looking at it,” she whispered, her ears twitching. “It reminds me of that woman’s face. My birth mother, that is. Maybe she worked there?”

Elmo looked back at Bud, making sure he noted that, because he sure wouldn’t. The watery canine nodded in understanding.

“I don’t really want to remember these things,” Paris-Jaide continued. She looked around at all the buildings in the area. “They don’t matter. Do they?”

Elmo shook his head. “Nope. That’s the price we pay as villains. We have to give up our old lives for the sake of what we believe in.”

Bud nodded, splashing to be next to the others. “Indeed. In order to make an omelet, you must crack a few eggs,” he joked, poking Elmo’s head as a joke. A spark flew between the two, making Elmo growl quietly.

“If you short me out, I’ll plug all the drains in the lighthouse and lock you out,” Elmo said. Paris-Jaide looked back at them, grinning. Despite their villainous behavior, she knew they were empty threats. Just the other day, Elmo had threatened to put Bud in the freezer, and never followed through. Bud gave a cocky grin to the other, unphased by the comment.

Paris-Jaide grinned and pulled them both a little closer. “You know you don’t hate each other~”

Elmo glared at his partner, humming. “Yeah, sure.”

Bud saw right through him, ironically, and put his arm around the other in a hug. “You know what they say. The customer is always right!”

Elmo tried shoving him away, but the quick contact caused him to shock the other, shorting both of them out and zapping Paris-Jaide in the crossfire. Bud fell into a puddle of water with a trenchcoat and a hat on top of it. Elmo groaned and fell to the side, head aching. Paris-Jaide whined at the feeling but it quickly rolled away. It left her with an unpleasant prickly feeling like her limbs had fallen asleep. She stepped out of Bud’s puddle and leaned over Elmo. “You two alright?” she asked.

“We’re used to it,” Elmo explained, whimpering as he got up. Bud tried reforming into his disguise, but that ultimately failed as he came up backwards. Paris-Jaide giggled loudly when she saw them.

___

Paris-Jaide sat on the beach, in the moonlight. She had activated her powers for a bit, testing out a theory. The night she’d discovered her powers, she’d turneed some woodchips into glowing green anomalies. She decided to test this. She had a pencil and paper next to her. She’d heard Elmo and Reggie discussing science stuff. The one thing she clearly recalled was them mentioning testing things three times. So she had three cups of water and the rocks in from of her.

The young mouse held her hand out at the first rock, her dark green eyes narrowing at it. How did her dad do this? He just focused his energy into his hand and zapped stuff. She took a breath, thinking of her hand getting heavier. She pictured her hand glowing, getting dangerously radioactive. Her pastel green fur started glowing on her hand, even brighter than usual. “Okay, now charge it to the rock,” she whispered to herself. She watched intently as the little white pebble started turning green. She kept going for a minute until it obtained a deeper color and was emitting light.

Paris-Jaide felt a connection through her hand. She held the rock up and stared at it. Her curiosity getting to her, she set it on the ground and held her hand above it. She watched as she pulled the rock into her hand without touching it, gasping. She grinned when it worked, standing up and holding the rock out. She threw it and held her hand out, trying to keep it up. It worked. “Oh, yeah! I’m a pro at this superpower thing!” She saw how the rock kept glowing, and moved as her hand commanded. She laughed, putting her other hand out to summon another rock. When nothing happened, she looked at the other rocks she had set out. Maybe she could only move them if she charged them. Paris-Jaide carefully pulled the other rock back to her hand, wrapping her fingers around it securely.

She went over the same thing with the other two rocks, getting the same results. So she was right! She could charge other things. And apparently that allowed her to control them. With more practice, she could find great ways to use them in the field.

Paris-Jaide tried the same thing with the water. She watched as they slowly turned a rich, light green. She pulled her hand up, smiling as the water followed her. She held it above her in an orb, watching it ripple. She held her other hand up to it, making the connection. She pulled them apart and two undefined masses of glowing water. She focused on them, shaping them back into two orbs.

While she was practicing with her water, just moving it around as she dances, Bud came out of the lighthouse. “Two out of two fathers agree that it is time you come inside,” he said, swishing over to his daughter. “Jaide, why don’t you-” He saw what she was doing with the water and paused, watching her.

Paris-Jaide saw him and smiled, tilting her head to invite him closer. “Pops! Check out what I can do!” she said, swirling the water around her until it was a solid ring. She kept it still around her, so it was level with her waist. “I can move things if I charge them. I’ve only tested it on rocks and water but I think it can apply to other things.”

Bud came a little closer, watching with interest. He smiled at her. “Isn’t this something?”

Paris-Jaide giggled, pulling the hoop over her head and started spinning it. “Isn’t it cool? Imagine all the ways I could use this in a fight!” she said, suddenly constricing the water so it was likea tube-shaped trap.

“Oh, in a fight now?” Bud said, raising what would be an eyebrow. “You think you’re ready to go fight Darkwing Duck with us?”

Paris-Jaide sook her head, slowing the hoop. “No. But if I keep practicing with this, I could!” she said. Her voice suddenly got really excited, dripping with a crazed kind of glee. “And one day, Darkwing Duck and Quiverwing Quack will regret ever crossing Megavolt, Liquidator, and-” She stopped, her face suddenly going relaxed. “Actually, I don’t know what my villain name is.

Bud smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Ah, things like that may take time. It took your dad quite a while to get a hold of his superpowers,” he said. “But I was quite the fast learner. It had a good grip on mnie in days. Being a much younger example, you might take longer. But I’d say you’re still learning quite fast!”

Paris-Jaide smiled, jumping up and hugging him. “Thank you, Pops!” she said. The glowing water she was holding suddenly splashed apart, falling into the sand and turning it green. The pair watched as the radioactive charge faded away in a minute, no longer being sustained by her focus.

Elmo walked out of the lighthouse, rushing over to them. “It’s late. You should be in bed, young lady,” he said to his daughter.

Paris-Jaide gasped and waved at her dad. “Dad, come here! I need to show you what I can do!”

___

In the dead of winter, St. Canard was covered in ice. Paris-Jaide had to stay home while her parents were out on a heist. It was normally fine leaving her alone for a bit, unless she was bored and wanted to do experiments. So she sat in her room, curled up in a blanket, with a pack of glow sticks. She’d swiped them from a clearance section in a store, just curious to see what would happen.

She could eat battery acid, right? So if she could consume battery acid with no consequences other than her hair glowing more than usual, then what could glow sticks do to her?

Snapping one of the glow sticks, Paris-Jaide watched the fluorescent green spread through the thin stick. She shook it until it was evenly spread and then took a breath. “Here goes nothing.” She bit into the plastic, taking off the tip of the glow stick. She spat the tip into her hand and put the rest of the stick to her lips, turning her head up and drinking the whole thing. It tasted extremely bitter, and she shut her eyes tighter as it passed over her tongue. It left her mouth with a spicy feel and gross aftertaste. She set the plastic bits on a towel next to her.

She unwrapped her blanket a bit, looking over her arms. She still had light brown fur. Nothing was glowing. She hummed and pulled her braided hair over her shoulder, seeing the same brown as always. Huffing, Paris-Jaide reached to her bedside for a hand-mirror, looking at her eyes. Still brown as well. Did glow sticks just not work on her? That would be disappointing.

After a moment, she got impatient and started shaking herself, not sure what she needed to do to speed up the process. “Come on! If battery acid works, why won’t these?” she asked herself, flopping backwards. Her blanket fell off and she was cold. The lighthouse didn’t have the best insulation or heating, but she didn’t care right now. Then she felt warmth kindle in her stomach. Didn’t glow sticks get warm when you snapped them? She held her arm up in front of her, seeing her fur was now a more pastel green than light brown.

She grinned, sitting up and grabbing another glow stick. She snapped another one, which came out a yellow color. Downing it in one go, Paris-Jaide got up out of bed, jumping and shaking her body to spread the juice through her system. She held out her arm and saw the pastel green was now a little yellow. Different color glow stick, different color body. Made sense. To even it out, she found a blue glow stick and snapped it. She drank the whole thing and stuck her tongue out at the spicy and bitter taste. That would take some getting used to. She shook herself again, pleased to see her fur evening into a richer light green.

Paris-Jaide pulled her hair over her shoulder, bursting out into a fit of giggles when she saw how much brighter it was. Her whole room had a dim green glow about it, shadows shifting as she moved. Her dark green eyes shone as she took in the information. Her long, thin tail twitch back and fourth in her excitement.

When she heard the bottom door open, she ran out of her room, going down to greet her parents. “Dad! Pops! Check it out! I was drinking from glow sticks and look what it does to my fur and my hair!”

Megavolt looked up, eyes wide. Why was he not surprised that that sentence was the first thing they heard from their nine-year old? “What does-” He stopped himself when he saw the young mouse come running down the stairs, glowing green. “Sweet Tesla, that is bright,” he said.

Paris-Jaide nodded, running over to them. “Yep! This is what happens when I have three. So-” she stopped upon seeing Liquidator covered in snow- Wait, no, he was the snow. “You okay, Pops?” she asked.

Liquidator smiled, slowly nodding. “The Liquidator is fine, thought not in one hundred percent conditions.”

Paris-Jaide smiled sympathetically. It was so cold outside, he’d started to freeze. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing. “I prescribe you with warm hugs to thaw you out!”

Bud sighed, wrapping his arms around his daughter, taking in her natural warmth. Actually, maybe that wasn’t natural. She felt a lot warmer than normal. “It seems you have your own trademark glow-stick-wamrth-charged-hugs,” he commented, feeling relieved as he thawed out more quickly than he’d thought he would. She was really warm now. But she didn’t seem to be burning. And as long as she didn’t seem to be burning, he did not mind.

Elmo took off his hat and battery, setting them on some hooks and going over to his boyfriend and daughter, carefully wrapping his arms around both of them. Bud hummed contentedly at the added warmth. “Oh, geez, kiddo. You really are warmer!” he noted, running his fingers through her hair. Paris-Jaide giggled, relaxing into all the loving touch.

Elmo smiled warmly at the other two. He had gone a long time going out and doing his villain things, then coming back to an empty, dingy apartment. Now he got to come back with his sweet and protective boyfriend, to their darling daughter. He wouldn’t change that for that world.

___

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Paris-Jaide asked, looking up at her uncle curiously.

“Of course I do!” Jacky said, grabbing more aluminum. “I watched an online tutorial earlier. Makes me basically an expert!”

Paris-Jaide sighed. Worst case scenario, she just cut off all her hair. She looked again in the mirror that was set up. Pieces of her hair were sectioned off, just in the front. She watched as Jacky mixed the bleach and put a piece of her hair on a piece of aluminum. “Uh-huh,” she said, trying to relax. She squeezed the squishie that Jacky had given her to keep her from moving too much. It was a colorful butterfly, and when she squeezed it, it made a shrill screaming noise, the eyes popping out with a red liquid on the inside.

“Will the bleach make your powers act up?” Jacky asked as he started brushing the mixture onto her hair.

Paris-Jaide shrugged a bit, thinking. She’d tested her powers with a few things. “I don’t think so. If it does, I won’t explode… I don’t think,” she said with a smirk.

Jacky laughed at that. Elmo would kill him if his daughter blew up while he was watching her. But it was a funny thought that she’d cause an explosion.

Paris-Jaide talked idly about random things while Jacky bleached her hair, mentioning things with her powers and new home life.

“I’m really glad everything’s warmed up. Spring is so much better. And Pops gets freezy all the time. Plus Dad shorts out if it snows too much,” she said as her uncle finished rinsing out the last of the bleach. “They really don’t like winter.”

“I think I’m the only one that does like it!” Jacky said, getting out the dye pack and starting to mix it. “Reggie hates the cold. He just stays locked up in his greenhouse for months!” he said. “Elmo has the whole problem with snow being water and he shorts out just walking through it! It’s actually kind of funny seeing his freak out over a blizzard.” He ran a towel through Paris-Jaide’s hair, making sure the bleached parts were dry. “Bud can control snow and everything. He did use the cold snap to make an ice army,” Jacky pointed out.

“Yeah. He just hates getting cold himself,” Paris-Jaide reminded him. “He gets all slushy and stiff.”

“It sounds cool!” Jacky said. “One thing about not having superpowers that’s nice is not having to deal with things like that! At least your powers don’t get weird in the cold.”

“Nope,” Paris-Jaide shook her head.

Jacky put a hand on the top of her head to keep her from moving. “I know it’s so boring to sit still. But you don’t want my to spoil all your hair!” he said. “Imagine just having messy green spots! You’d look like Splatter Pheonix.” The duck laughed at the idea of that. “Actually, maybe you should do that.”

“No! I want to do streaks. That would look way cooler,” Paris-Jaide argued. “I don’t want to look like that dumb doodler.”

Jacky burst out laughing at her comment, having to put down the bowl of dye so he didn’t spill it everywhere. “Oh, you’re a riot, kid!” he said, hugging her from the side. Paris-Jaide snickered, hugging him back.

By the time her parents came to get her, Jacky had finished coloring her hair. She’d hidden in the next section of his warehouse, wanting to surprise them.

Elmo and Bud looked around when they entered, seeing Jacky but no Paris-Jaide. “Visitors would like to know: Where is our daughter?”

Jacky pulled a horn out of his sleeve, playing it like a royal declaration. “I’m so glad you asked!” he said. “Introducing the radiant and radioactive Paris-Jaide Fludspark!”

The young mouse in question ran out from behind a shelf and threw her hands up in the air. “Ta-da! What do you think?”

Elmo audibly gasped when he saw her hair. She’d taken it out of her usual braid to dye it. A couple strands on each side were now a deep emerald green, which shone in comparison to her dark hair. “It’s green,” he said bluntly, smiling at the child. “I think it suits you!”

“Need a way to express yourself? Want a way to pay tribute to your viridescent villain form? Try dying your hair! It’s a great choice,” Bud said, swishing over and scooping his daughter up in a hug. “That color looks gorgeous on you!”

Paris-Jaide laughed and hugged him back, arms dipping into his water for a second. When he finally set her down, she waved to Jacky. “Thanks for doing my hair, Uncle Jacky!” she said, taking each of her parents hands.

“Anything, anytime, kiddo!” Jacky said, watching his friends and niece as they left. Ha. He had a niece. He felt pretty lucky to just be apart of this group. Sure, they were all ruthless villains, but they were a little family. He’d never admit it to anyone else, but he loved them.

I’m going to stop it there. Hope you enjoyed it, just a bunch of little moments. Remember to like and comment. It makes it so much better when I know what you all think! Farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don’t eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life!Moonset!

#exitthepool #darkwing duck #fearsome five #fearsome four #megavolt #liquidator #quackerjack #liquivolt #liquivolt fankid #light of our lives #darkwing duck light of our lives #paris-jaide fludspark

5 notes · View notes

ephemerlskies · 5 years ago

Text

the lighthouse | jjk

⇢ pairing: reader x jungkook

⇢ genre: one shot, fluff (what's new), strangers to "lovers", mutual pining, so much sap you're gonna have to shower after reading this, ANGST, jungkook is a literary scholar (?) of sorts

⇢ word count: 12k

⇢ warnings: as stated before, it's Cheesy with a capital C, lots of introspection, brief mentions of death, explicit language, mommy issues, (((major plot twist)))

⇢ summary: you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled. was this going to be another disappointing chapter in the book of unattainable desires or could your encounter with the mysterious man who lived in the lighthouse lead to something much more?

a/n: i'm super proud of how this turned out even though it ripped my heart out of my chest... this was probably my favorite fic to write and ahh im so happy to release it!!!! i hope you lovely little angels enjoy!! :) <3

What makes us human? This question posed by your philosophy teacher had been stalking your thoughts hours after class had ended. As the rain padded against your umbrella, you piled in a few answers to this question.

What makes us human? A question that would seemingly have a clear cut answer, but when you got down to it, there was no distinct characteristic that differentiates humans from other animals. It was easy to say something such as how we have complex linguistics or industrialized civilization, but that is to discredit how the packs of wolves howl to each other, the birds sing from tree to tree, the beavers diligently construct their dams, or the dirt cities in which ants build their own societies not much different than humans.

You pondered the idea that we love so deeply, even when it is often unreturned, but there is no denying the way a mother bear strikes down any and all enemies to protect her baby cub is anything other than true love.

So, what makes us human? You sat on a bench placed on the sidelines where you could witness small scenes of the lives of passing strangers. This sonder might be what makes us human. The knowledge that each person lives and loves and cries and fears and speaks and dies in ways with which you will never begin to familiarize. Life continues on around you despite how unimportant it may seem to the rest.

Does a lion waste any moment of his time wondering how the deer had found its way to the shallow pond, whilst preparing to strike? Of course not.

You watched a couple clinging onto each other and wondered where they met. You then were captured in the peace of an old woman prodding around in the grass with her golden retriever; perhaps it was her last companion. Then, your eyes drifted towards the two boys pushing each other over but with the gentleness one could only assume that was out of friendship or perhaps brotherhood.

And then you saw him.

Gentle fingers tracing the stacks of magazines lined in a perfect column; an arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his dark, wool coat. A tweed newsboy hat sheltering his eyes, and deep chestnut Oxford shoes stepping lightly, nearing a tiptoe, between the cracks of each cement plate, weathered by the infinite other shoes that tread on those very grounds. A body so magnetizing and moving as if it were a secret, and you couldn’t imagine why no one else had been ingested by the enigma that is this man. You longed for him to reveal these secrets that hid underneath his hat and coat, though if he wouldn’t, which he most likely wouldn’t, you had no problem with seeking them out yourself.

In a city filled with young souls draped in modern streetwear, jeans, bright colors, and converse or Dr. Martens or perhaps high heels, catching this needle in the haystack plugged into every synapse of wonderment. The muted tones of his clothing gleamed the brightest out of the sea of strangers.

This is what made you human. Your desire to know everything that lies barely beyond your wingspan. Everything you could hold was close to nothing in meaning, and everything your arms could not reach was always all you could ever want. The rise of your legs, the way you replicated his every movement, running your fingers along the stack of magazines, fastidious prancing in the spaces between the cracks, and your subtle pursuit of the man just out of reach was what made you human.

Bodies bustling through your path failed to untether you from this chase. It felt far beyond your power to stop yourself from the rising excitement and allure in your chest that pulled you towards him. The man was quick and swift to dodge oncoming bystanders, however your eyes became a missile fixed on a target.

The unexpected turn he took had you floundering for you had been trapped behind an older lady and a couple walking side by side. Sadly, your memorization of the streets and landmarks had been admisal, so you found yourself in uncharted territory. Each road sign and corner store had been displayed like a foreign language, and you mentally cursed yourself for letting your silly lust for learning what shouldn’t be learned lead you into this difficult position.

You stood defeated, the man had evaded your fragile trail behind him with ease. You lost him, or maybe he got away.

It was still midday, prompting you to make an end of this means. Your eyes discovered the coast set along the edge of the town, and though this was the furthest you had ever gone, you dared to go further. This mishap of yours granted you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the shore, and the waves have always delighted your interest. So, you found it just to walk down to the sand. The sound of the water pressing into the wet sand was calming; it was something you could find yourself getting used to. Luck presented itself kindly, giving you a moment unencumbered by the rain that had ceased not long after you stepped foot on the beach.

You took this time to be with yourself and sort out all the problems that have been worrying your mind these past few weeks. Your best friend, Chaeyoung, had an upcoming birthday that had snuck up on you before you had the chance to even think about getting her a card, let alone a gift or celebration. And you would be disappointed with yourself if you failed to outdo last year’s efforts. There was also the test in your Chemistry class scheduled only a day after her birthday, curtailing your plans of staying out late because there was no way you would allow for anything less than your very most on this exam. Then, there was the essay on what makes us human that you denied any chance of regaining priority to your list of worries, knowing it would gnaw at your mind until you forcibly shut it out.

And the man that willed you to seek him out, and that wore the title of his stories as if he intentionally wished to spark your wonder to learn them.

That should have been the last of your worries. It should have been.

The day began to fade into a warm, orange dusk. Skies once gloomy and grey now covered in blankets of clouds reflecting the sun’s gentle rays and you found yourself reunited with the calming feeling similar to when you first stepped on the beach.

Not long after registering how far you had traveled along the shore, you noticed a quaint lighthouse with a house-like structure at the base. The off-white stones cemented up until a red paneled roof covered it, tempting you to know what lies behind those walls.

It looked like it was about to rain again.

Are lighthouses closed off from the public?

There’s a house, there must be someone inside that could help me find my way home.

All these comments to yourself made to premise the conclusion of entrance into this lighthouse. As you approached the door, framed in oak lining and painted red, the clouds appeared heavy once again. A few drops of condensation was enough persuasion that what was about to be done was for the good of your well being. You pushed it open and a creak echoed around the room inside.

The walls were covered with stone bricks and there was one table in the center of the room. Other than that, this house was barren and if it weren’t for the second door that you guessed led to the lighthouse you would have called a car to take you home.

Your walk was pensive and mouse-like; there was some quality about this structure that made you feel like you weren’t alone and sudden movements would disrupt an established peace. Your hand turned the cold, gold-plated handle and pulled open the door, soon being met with a warm gust of air that engulfed you into the lighthouse.

This part of the building was exponentially more decorated than the room that preceded it. A staircase cemented into the sides of the lighthouse plastered with shelves upon shelves of books spiraled along the cylindrical walls, paired with dull lanterns that illuminated each level of railing had you drawn into its magnificence.

You stared up to what looked like a platform that held a place in which one would rest and look out into the ocean. There was no one in sight, and you assumed permission to climb up the staircase. Your eyes scanned each spine, creased and slightly warped from the moisture of the air, like they had been read over and over again. Your breath became heavy and your stare was focused on the books to ignore the dizziness settling in.

Reaching the top of the staircase came as a blessing, your lungs were close to catching fire. There were two armchairs, side by side, one fashioned a knitted blanket and the other was used as a table for five to seven or so novels, and the walls behind buried in high stacks of more books. There had to be at least seventy in the first half of piles you accounted for, and before you had the chance to snoop around the rest of the room you heard a voice coated with alarm behind you.

“What are you doing in here?” Your breath halted as you turned around, about to explain why you had let yourself into this building, however no amount of words could fully justify this invasive act.

You recognized the wool coat and the tweed hat now resting in his hand instead of on his head. His eyes were shrouded in a youthful innocence despite his attire that implied he was a sophisticate of some sort.

“Are you going to answer me or do I have to call the police?” The boom of his voice was chilling, sending shivers along your neck and chest.

“Sorry, I’m-” How could you possibly defend your intrusion without sounding juvenile or absolutely insane? “I was… It was raining and I just was walking on the beach so-”

“So, you decided breaking and entering was better than getting a little wet?” His barbed responses hurdled how you plaintively stuttered around excuses. Despite his efforts to seem menacing, you couldn't let go of his boyish facial features. It was absolutely astonishing to you that someone who looked young enough to attend your own college and handsome enough to garner quite a bit of attention had anything to do with this dingy, aged lighthouse.

“No, I was going to come in here to ask for directions. I’m lost.” The pitiful temperament of this comment was not intentional, but the man who now stood in front of you felt itched by it. He couldn't ignore how your legs trembled, partly from the cold but also because of his raised voice directed at you, and how that admittedly aroused some guilt.

“It’s fine. Just-” He sighed deeply, placing his hat on the side table adjacent to the left armchair, “You can just wait here until the rain stops. Though, I have to say it looks unrelenting at the moment.” The man’s attention was captured by how the heavy rain seemed to wage war against the raging tides. You caught a glimpse of a smile. The slightest upturn of the corner of his lips almost compelling you to reveal you had spotted him in the town earlier today, and that you found yourself enamoured with his every movement, and he was ironically the reason you were stuck here.

“Are you sure? I can go, I shouldn't have been here in the first place.” The words escaped from your mouth quickly as if they were trying to race each other to be spoken.

“No, I said it’s fine.” The suddenness of this offer hushed you. He then removed his wool coat, unveiling the clothes he wore beneath it. The burgundy crew neck sweater layered tastefully over a collared shirt was just as old fashioned as every other article of clothing he sported. How intriguing.

“I'm sorry.” Your muscles grew sore from suppressing how aggressively you would have been shaking from the cold. “Thank you.” Him granting you shelter gave you motive to keep the umbrella that would suffice to protect you from the rain under wraps. The option he presented was far more favorable.

“Sit down. Please, use this blanket.” He gestured towards the throw draped over the right armchair. His eyes avoided you as much as he could manage though you had this glow emulating from your wanting eyes and soft looking skin that crept to the corner of his vision too brightly to ignore. Consequently, this comment soothed both your body and mind for he unguarded a kindness that was hidden when he first spoke to you.

“My name is ___.” He was facing the window that displayed the sea, now thrashing and falling into itself, and without moving his head, his eyes drifted towards you.

“I know who you are.”

“Wh- How?” Maybe accepting an invite in a secluded lighthouse on the beach wasn’t the safest thing you could be doing on a Friday afternoon. Anxiety pioneered a place in your breathing, turning it rushed and choked.

Before your mind could theorize all the ways in which you could make an escape from this room or how quickly you could use your hidden umbrella as a weapon he said, “I noticed you following me in the town’s square earlier today.” You sighed, releasing the terror that pricked your lungs. If anything, it was he who should be afraid of you.

“I’m not a stalker!” That weak defense was all you could push from your throat before any well constructed explanations could be put forth.

His laugh, along with his cryptic gaze towards the waves, made you feel even worse about your actions.

“You were just so stunning and I wanted to know what kind of person still wears a newsboy hat without trying to make a statement.” Your lower lip tucked between your teeth stopped the nervous laugh about to spill and expressed worry that the more you tried to explain yourself, the more this man believed you should be charged for stalking not to mention trespassing.

“Stunning?”

“I mean, like, someone I’d want to meet.”

“What were you planning on doing once I stopped somewhere, or noticed you?” He questioned you only because he relished how you were scrambling to a proper defense. He knew you weren’t any threat to him, not many people were, however he enjoyed your chatter more than the silence that would have taken its place.

“I don't know, maybe just… introduce myself?” This sheepish, yet honest, reply had you drowning in humiliation, while the man before you seemed as if he were floating effortlessly along the surface.

“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Relief replaced the worry that he would turn you away, leaving you to the hands of the storm outside. The fact that any other person would have done so led you to believe Jungkook held a lot more compassion than he let on. You held your hand to greet him, finding it only polite to execute this formality. His, however, remained folded behind his back, notably denting your ego as you retracted your hand quicker than you extended it.

“Okay.” You muttered to yourself in slight embarrassment from this trivial rejection. “So, do you live here or something?” Your question was first replied to with a breath of annoyance. Jungkook was kind enough to allow you a sanctuary from the rain, exemption from the intrusion and stalking, and now he found himself having to entertain you.

“Yeah, something like that.” All this disinterested answer did was persist your attempts to break his catatonic gaze. However, his reserve had been solidified steadily over the years, so this venture was going to be tough.

“I didn’t know you could live in a lighthouse?” Your inquiry was spoken with the hopes this would ignite a lasting conversation.

“It’s not a lighthouse, technically.” Jungkook’s affirmative tone flew right over your head, conjuring even more annoyance that oddly enticed him to continue responding to your dense questions.

“Well, it looks like a lighthouse. It’s shaped like a lighthouse. It’s on the beach, just like a lighthouse.” A chuckle joined the sigh of his breath and his head that shook at your shallow observations. Jungkook eventually turned around and made his way towards the stacks of books, trying to preoccupy himself from whatever this exchange was. “All signs point to this being a lighthouse.”

“Well, it’s not. Lighthouses are meant to send signals to the ships out at sea. This doesn't,” His curt response tickled your amusement, only encouraging you to further aggravate him. “Therefore, not a lighthouse.”

“Okay,” You sounded agreeable, but this was soon followed by a doubtful comment whispered just loud enough for Jungkook’s ear to catch it, “It’s a lighthouse.” He found his stoicism melting away due to your spiteful attitude and conniving giggle in the face of his frustration. You wanted to get a rise out of him, and he knew this, and you were doing a fine job at it.

“It’s not-” His voice elevated with excitement, but he soon tamed the defensiveness threatening to spill from his lips, “Do you want to go back out into the rain?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Though, you sounded all but remorseful. The sly smirk resting on your face matched Jungkook’s satisfied expression, despite these smiles surfacing for different reasons. You couldn’t deny how humorous it was to distemper this man. How all the worries you laid out like the pebbles and seashells on this beach were washed away by the tides. Meanwhile, his grin provided little contribution in masking his enjoyment of your company and relentless curiosity.

You now sat in the right armchair, bundled in the blanket. It was not necessarily a thick blanket, but the chills once disturbing you had dwindled almost immediately. You were still entranced by Jungkook's movements. His hands were now occupied with a book from one of the stacks he’d been eyeing; the way he cradled the book like it was a newborn baby further revealed he had a somewhat protective attitude towards them.

“What are you reading?” His eyes remained between the pages and lines of the book, but his focus was yet again thieved by your incessant curiosity. Jungkook thought it irritating similarly to how one would find a cat disrupting their owner from work, annoying yet ever so endearing, and adorably distracting.

“I’m not reading, I’m being bothered by you.” His snark was meant to damage your brazen pestering, but unknown to him it merely fueled it.

“Boohoo.” No matter how elementary that retort was, you still managed to fever him and hold hostage his attention.

“I’m reading The Odyssey.” Jungkook surrendered to you, placing the book on his lap that was now sitting in the armchair next to yours. “Why do you ask so many questions?” His eyes laid on you the same way they laid on the sea, filled to the brim with fascination.

“I just wanted to know what you were reading.” Even when he expressed a clear indication that he was past your nonsense, it went unnoticed like the particles of dust flitting around the darkened room. This oblivion of yours prompted your next question. “Could you read it to me?”

His eyebrows furrowed at this request. Jungkook had already found himself exhausted by your persistence, and predicted ‘no’ would not be accepted as a viable answer. He just sighed and began to read aloud.

His soft voice somehow drowned out the sea’s commotion. The words flowed off his tongue as if he wrote the book himself; such poise for a young man lured you to immerse yourself in his narration and time grew more and more abstract.

After a bit, Jungkook paused to examine how you'd received his reading and he was pleased to find your chin resting in your palm and your eyes and ears fixed onto him as if he were reading the gospel. This made it difficult, impossible, to deny entry for the subtle blush working its way on his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied?” He closed the book, peering out of the window to check if the weather had eased since you arrived. Though the intensity of the storm hadn’t lightened in the slightest, there was a new tranquility adopted by the drizzling sky waters that sank and fed into the waves.

“Never.” You replied with a hungered conviction twisted into your words, “What happens next?”

Jungkook laughed in shock of how eager you were to hear more of this story. It was unlike someone who wasn’t well versed in literature to genuinely enjoy listening to this archaic novel.

“Why are you laughing? Read more!” Your whine came off a bit childlike, but succeeded in its goal.

“It’s getting late.” He commented with a gentle sternness, though he proceeded to reopen the book. Your peculiar attention naturally drew him to oblige your desires. Even in the midst of a storm, even as the hours slipped by and the evening had been born, he continued to read.

You settled back into your chair in rejoice that you’d get to spend a bit more time with Jungkook. He was practically a stranger, and still there was a climate of comfort and intimacy that took the place of the crisp, winter air when he read from his book. He felt it too, and that was reason enough to allow you this company.

Throughout the chapter he had been working to finish, he snuck glances to find your eyes growing heavy with sleep as each page turned. Jungkook halted from reading and was trapped in the flush of your cheeks and lips and how your mouth hung slightly ajar as you inhaled the cold, wet air of the lighthouse. The puffs of breath that billowed from your lips had him yearning to know a warmth so full with life and curiosity.

“Are-” Jungkook tensed at the idea of disturbing your sleep, as if you hadn’t barged into his life without a hint of permission. “Are you asleep?”

Your head lifted slowly, then held stiff to maintain consciousness, “I was just resting my eyes. I’m not tired, I want you to read more.” You said this in spite of knowing you would drift asleep if he did.

“I think we are done reading for now.” The book closed for the last time, his hands pressing against the cover to seal his assurance. “You should head home.”

“But, I don’t know how the book ends.” This weak argument came from a place of jaded desperation. Regardless, he almost fell victim to your subdued urgency but any sensibility he could garner warned him not to allow this. You were quite obviously tired and he prefered you be safe in your own bed before the night advanced.

“Well, that’s because I only just started this book and it is very, very long.” Jungkook hoped this would usher you out even if that meant the return of loneliness would seep between the pillows of the right armchair after you left him with his solitude.

“Well, I won’t be able to get these questions out of my mind unless I finish the book.” Another weak argument drained from your inventory of excuses. Maybe a change of subject would present an opportunity to linger in his company. “Also, why do you live here all alone?”

“I just do. I feel like I don’t have to explain this to you.” Jungkook was bewildered at his admission to give you, an unannounced and uninvited visitor, any explanations and still he was close to doing exactly that. “You’re quite invested in my personal life.” As much as that was true, his withdrawal from your curiosity wasn't all that effortful. Living in secrecy and desolation had the feeling of companionship nearly vanishing from his memory and you reunited him with that warmth. And, he had not realized how it had nearly been forgotten or how much he missed it until he finally felt it again.

“You seem like someone who has better things to attend to.” The lament that stained his words bore such heartache that was soon displaced in your chest.

“No, no. My life is boring, and I don’t know. What person wouldn’t be interested in the personal life of a hermit who lives in a lighthouse?” You stood and paced around the platform towering over the swirling bookshelves below, towering over what felt like the entire world with Jungkook. The end of the blanket trailed your footstep as your drooping eyes skimmed the multicolored novels which were remarkably arranged alphabetically by author. How he had the time or patience to organize the hundreds of books he owned was beyond your comprehension. Every detail you acquired from Jungkook was stored in a compartment of your heart, almost as if it were assigned by fate. They were told in riddles and secrets and everything else meant to be deciphered.

“Not a hermit, and not a lighthouse. I couldn’t imagine someone like you being bored with your life.” His voice had become welcoming, with a hint of genuine interest, and this transition felt imminent ever since you first introduced yourself. The tilt of your head signified your agreement with his last statement and implied there was something that bothered you about this truth.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone like you. Curious, young with your whole life ahead of you. It's hard to believe you should be bored with that.”

“You say that as if you aren't the same age as me.” Jungkook shrugged lazily and scuffed his shoes against the rug as he now stood against the window sill, observing your interest of his books.

“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, and yet I am all those things. Bored, curious, and I’m here talking to a complete stranger that totally has the capability to murder me like in those movies instead of going back home.” Your comment that snuck out had wrested a soft chuckle from Jungkook. They were absentmindedly thrown into the air that filled the space between you and him, nurturing his reciprocated fascination with you. Your diligent grazing of each book had distracted how the weight of your eyelids heavied by the minute.

“It’s not like I don’t have great people in my life or a quality education that takes up most of my time, I just,” Your brief pause was to turn your attention over to Jungkook, who did not hide how he was listening intently to these confessions, alleviating from a place in need of emptying. His eyebrow was arched in a manner that jolted you back to your senses. You’d revealed one too many privacies to someone who you had been acquainted with only hours ago. Mortification would have bathed your body if not for the way Jungkook seemed to strongly engage with your openness.

“You just?” He staged his interest overtly to correct the imbalance of how your genuinity left you hanging lower than him on the emotional scale. Jungkook believed that was the least he could do to mitigate the embarrassment about to silence you.

“Uh, I just never seem to be satisfied with what I have. And that makes me seem like a greedy, spoiled child which makes me even more frustrated with myself.” You admitted, pulling the blanket over your shoulders tighter as if that would shield you from the compromising guilt slithering out of your body. “And that’s how I see myself. Ungrateful and spoiled.” This certainly scraped the barrel of your deep rooted disgust with yourself.

“Not spoiled, just lost.” His response felt like a soft and thoughtful embrace, granted that this was meant to ease the tinge of reproach in your heart. The words he spoke caressed your cheeks and told you that every horrid thing you thought of yourself was flawed.

“I’ve certainly been in your position.” He euphemized what he really wanted to say to you, that he saw himself in you. Even though you spoke very little on this, he felt himself living every experience you alluded to as if he had been right beside you your whole life. Or rather that you had witnessed his life and suffered identical desires and grievances and adversities and were simply retelling his story down to the most intricate detail; and somehow you made it sound brand new and a thousand times more aching. He was stranded in a state of amazement, ambushed by your pain and how even in moments of emotional destitution, you were unquestionably beautiful.

Likewise, this stranger, who was no longer estranged, and his kind words nearly compensated for the billions of people you could never meet, all the dreams you wanted but could never alter into incarnation, and all the disappointments that plagued your heart.

And you felt held by his words, his voice, him.

“You’ve been in my position?” You requested confirmation.

“I was. Certainly.” And he confirmed.

“Where are you now?” In turn, you wanted this to suggest, ‘where can I find you?’

This question carried profound sentiment on both the giving and receiving end of it. To you, this yearned for advice. Any piece of wisdom would gladly, gratefully be accepted to ease this rampage of constant dissatisfaction. To him, it resurfaced a series of speculations long undisturbed until you had asked this question; a place intentionally void of all attention because it was sometimes too grim to remember. A haze of difficulty crowded a definite answer, though he knew there was one. He couldn’t place his finger on a fitting response and found himself next to you in search of the answer.

Where are you now?

This haunted his mind for a bit, leaving him speechless and albeit impressed, for once, by your curiosity.

“It’s hard to say. Somewhere in between, I suppose.” Whatever meaning this carried did not resonate as sound to you. The mere idea of being on the end of perpetual longing, waiting for a clear path to the end that promised fulfillment, made it implausible to settle on being somewhere in between the two. Again, you were left unsatisfied and feeling a burden placing itself on your shoulders and wallowing a fit of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook noticed how your eyes fell from his, down to the maroon accents of the rug, and felt out of place. Out of place, in his own lighthouse, all because your gaze and attention he’d grown used to in this short time wasn’t directed at him.

“That’s the kind of ambiguity that leaves me so hungry.” He nodded in agreeance with the twisted cruelty of his response you had pointed out. Jungkook didn’t know how or why he’d come to turn every corner and check each crevasse to find what could settle your appetite. This whole time, though, he sailed through this painstaking search without a trace of uncertainty. His illusion of disinterest and annoyance soon dissolved into the floor that your eyes hadn’t strayed from.

“Maybe if I lived in a quaint, not-lighthouse I would be satisfied with that answer, but I don’t. I live a normal, normal, normal life.” The repetition of your words stressed your fatigue of this dullness, your desire for everything just inches away from your fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a normal life. I think it’s wrong that we have put the idea of drama and excitement on a pedestal.” This outlook, unlike the last, did gain traction in stripping the thick ambiguity around Jungkook’s mind. To your surprise, you could be satisfied with the small pieces of this man’s mystery being chipped bit by bit.

He was well aware of his deep rooted appreciation that accompanied your eyes as it moved towards him once again. There was some sense of purposefulness in this glance that demoted his callousness to tender captivation.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“I have a hard time believing you only have one more question.” His doubtfulness didn’t seem to discourage you, or him.

“For real! Only one more, it’s important.” The only way to prove whether or not this question was truly important was for you to ask it. His head nodded his approval.

“What do you think makes us human?” Before he could answer, a swell of perplexity had overtaken his thoughts on this. You could tell, out of everyone, Jungkook would have a profound answer that could save you hours of contemplation over your philosophy essay’s prompt.

“That’s an interesting question.”

“An interesting question in need of an answer.” You prodded him for his response, though this was pointless if there was no response that could possibly be constructed. Not a response of reason that you seemed to require, but of feeling. Like an instinct, and that in itself made it inapplicable to this question.

“Ask me again some other time. I don’t know if the answer is that simple.”

But, of course, it was. The answer, in his eyes, was blindingly clear.

“I’ll hold you to that!” He gladly took accountability for that commitment. An unfamiliar contentment with the unknown had lodged in your chest when the promise of spending time together emerged through the once conditional circumstances. The promise that transformed those conditional circumstances to voluntary acts.

This humbling discovery left a wide grin on your face, beaming directly towards Jungkook.

Jungkook peered over to the antique clock placed on a shelf next to the window. The aversion of his eyes was to save face from how your soft smile that projected praise and attachment had effectively unnerved him; he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his fingers that twitched out of pure elation.

The hour hand stationed on the twelve carved in roman numerals verified how his company had erased any discern for the hours that passed. They had floated away so silently, slowly that you could have sworn time froze altogether.

“Oh shit, it’s midnight? Fuck me.” The decibels of your voice boomed against the walls, it could have shaken the stacks of books down to a pile of mess. “I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t even realize it was so late.” You unraveled yourself from the blanket and collected your belongings in a bit of a frenzy.

“It’s alright. I, um, I had a nice time.” He distanced himself from you swiftly as you dashed across the room to the edge of the stairs. Even in a hurried state, you still looked back to him and offered a smile, unsure if that was enough to suffice for a proper gesture of gratitude.

“Me too.” The words were close to inaudible, but you knew he heard them loud and clear, along with the string of implications that were laced in them.

“Oh and by the way, make good use of that umbrella. It looks like it could start raining again.” Your ears felt engorged with flames when he’d revealed his knowledge of your little secret. It was foolish of you to believe you could outsmart Jungkook because what you thought obscure was well within his range of astuteness and the umbrella, still damp from the rain, was apparent from the beginning.

You didn’t catch how he’d been smiling when you turned away bashfully, strutting down the stairs in an attempt to portray false confidence. But if you did, you would have picked up on his mutual indulgence in your visit, the absolute bliss laden in his eyes. You grasped tightly to the joy evoked from the thought of seeing him again, however your nerves held a tighter grasp that did not allow you to express this to him. Perhaps your giggles of excitement, surely heard by Jungkook, spilling from your throat as you rushed out the empty room or the way you clutched your umbrella to your chest in admittance you had purposefully kept that fact from him would give Jungkook a clue of how thankful you were to meet him. And even more so to be able to see him again.

As you parted from the lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, something in between, you felt that the comfort you once had taper off with the growing distance from the not-lighthouse. You were fraught with a gentle yearning to turn back, run up the spiraling stairs, settle yourself back into the right armchair, and ask humbly to stay a while longer.

Little did you know, Jungkook’s hopes coincided with yours like two concentric circles.

(One week later)

If it wasn’t the question left unanswered that motivated you, it was the fact that you missed the view of the beach from the window. Or maybe it was the countless supply of book titles that you didn’t get to finish inspecting. Perhaps it was that you missed how the soft blanket complimented the feathery cushion of the right armchair.

Any of these excuses could be suited to explain how you rushed through the town, determined, goal-oriented and passing down streets now ingrained in your memory, with a destination clear in mind.

But it definitely couldn't be how dearly you missed the sound of his voice when he read to you or his smile or the way he studied the waves with gentle affection. No, it couldn't be that.

Either way, you arrived at the base of the lighthouse. It had been a week since your first visit and you hoped that the invitation still stood for your return. Making your way through the empty room felt quick since you hadn't wasted time to notice how the table now had a vase of flowers in the center. Nor did you notice the new mat placed in front of the interior doorway to the lighthouse.

Your heart dropped from your chest when you reached over to the door knob only to find it was locked. You turned the handle back and forth as if that would miraculously function as a key to unlock the door. After a bit of knob fiddling had proven itself useless, you turned away with a huff of air releasing your frustration.

The click and turn of the handle had you twirling around optimistically and seeing him made all that disappointment dissolve.

“You’re back again.” He was smiling at you, then cocked his head to say come in. The moment you stepped into the lighthouse, its lackluster disappeared as if by magic. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t magic at all; it was the person that hid their umbrella, and asked him to read and promised to return as much as he promised to let you return.

“I believe you promised to keep reading to me.”

“Did I?” The reasons for your return weren’t all that important to discuss, both you and him were just glad to make your way up the stairs to the two armchairs once more, hearts both racing not because of the physical exertion from the stairs but from the excitement rasping through yours and his bodies.

“Yes, but this time I won’t fall asleep.”

“We’ll see about that.” There was no question that your intense focus wasn’t because you cared about the book he had been reading. In all honesty, you would not be able to summarize any bit of the plot if someone asked. You probably would have a hard time even naming the author of the book because what sank you into the words on the pages wasn’t the story itself, but the voice that read them. Jungkook made those languid paragraphs sound like the first words ever to be spoken; he reinvented the English language through his unique dialect, inflections and phrasing that had the words of Homer dancing off the pages. So, of course there was no question that you wouldn’t be able to name any of the characters or recognize the writing style of Homer because those details faded away, leaving only the memory of his voice with you.

This time, Jungkook didn’t have to offer you a seat. He made it clear that this spot had been reserved and waiting for you by the way the blanket had been folded and worn by the arm of the chair and the new pillow resting at the base of the chair’s backrest. You planted yourself on the cushion that felt more plump than the last time you sat in it and faced towards the large window that showcased the ocean’s energetic swaying.

“I would never get tired of this view.” You commented while Jungkook pulled back the curtains further to widen the seascape. He too was drawn to the deep blue waters making their way to and from the shore.

“I usually don’t leave the windows this open, but my love for the scenery of the ocean has rekindled.” When he said this, your eyes hadn’t budged from the window unlike Jungkook’s that peered over to you. You pretended not to notice that or the way your heartbeat had taken a quickness that had your skin growing warmer.

“How could it leave in the first place?”

“It is well known, especially by you, that having an abundance of something lessens your appreciation for it.” A corner of your lips lifted at this, knowing exactly what he had been referring to. Each wave passed by and in a comatose-like state, you wondered where on the shore it would land.

“No need to call me out already, Jungkook.” He had left the window and retrieved The Odyssey that hadn’t left the side table since the night he read it to you. This broke your trance, and you shifted to face the left armchair.

“You made it too easy, ___.”

“Okay, Hermit.” Your smile did wonders to ease the irritation in Jungkook’s chest to tenderness. Though he refused to admit it, this otherwise taunting nickname sounded affectionate coming from you.

“Technically a hermit is-”

“Technically, I don’t care about your technicalities. No amount of facts will persuade me that you aren’t a Hermit.” Jungkook dug his tongue into the side of his cheek to resist from joining in with your laughter. He’d been fidgeting with the book that was waiting to be read, but neither of you seemed to mind putting that off.

“Ho- How was your day?” You shouldn’t have felt as proud as you did for making a man who could read aloud for hours stutter over his own words, and nonetheless you were extremely flattered by this.

“It was good.” Good never really meant good, and Jungkook knew this.

“And what’s the truth?” Your playing field had once again been unleveled, the advantage returned into the palm of Jungkook’s hand in the blink of an eye. His perceptiveness had been bordering on annoying but still remained on the side of impressive.

“Well,” You bunched the blanket in your fists as an expression of worry, “My mom called today.” Anyone who could hear would be able to tell you sounded unhappy about that.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jungkook articulated his question to get the answer he’d been looking for, finding the hostility in your voice far more interesting than the actual conversation between you and your mom.

“You don’t know my mom, but she projects her over achieving personality onto almost everyone she meets, but most of it goes onto me.” Your back had straightened when mentioning your mom, almost as if it were a reflex, like Pavlov’s dog, that you were conditioned to be on guard at the thought of her. “I don’t know why I get so mad at her when she does that because I know it comes from a place of love.”

Jungkook hummed softly, granting you space to continue talking.

“Yeah, it probably comes from a place of love but part of me doesn’t believe that. Part of me thinks every time she calls to check on me it’s really just a ploy for her to nag me on what I could be doing better.” You scoffed as the conversation from earlier in the morning played out in your head again. Envisioning the back and forth between you and your mother only fueled your frustration but you couldn’t help yourself. There was no stifling the seething anger imploding before Jungkook’s eyes. “She always says stuff like, ‘Maybe if you applied yourself more you would be doing better than this.’ or ‘I told you that you should have done this or that and now it’s too late’ or the infamous ‘Do you not care about your future?’ lecture that just gets under my skin. She’s so good at saying the wrong things at the wrong time. I don’t know how she does it but she always manages to rub dirt in the wound.”

“So, she’s never satisfied with you?” Jungkook observed.

“No, never! And you’d think a mother would be supportive or happy with all the things her child had already accomplished but somehow it’s never enough. And she knows what she’s doing. That makes it worse. She knows how she weaponizes my guilt against me.” You held your tongue from the much longer rant about to digress, feeling a sudden discomfort in the way you’d been complaining to Jungkook. You couldn’t understand why it was all too easy to talk of these kinds of things to him, why he looked so interested in what you were saying even when anyone else would have grown tired of you by now, why you found in him a warm confidant much more comforting than you’d expected, yet there was no way to dismiss this reality.

Jungkook did not offer advice, or tell you that you should be thankful or that maybe you were handling these situations poorly. He did none of that. His silence was more thoughtful than any number of things he could have said. He simply listened.

You rose from the chair to get a closer view of the sea. Past your reflection in the glass, the consecutive tides seemed to grapple over the next and the next; the previous wave always just short of reach to tackle the immediate wave. He had followed you without a word, living up to your desire to have him at your side. There was no need for mindless comments or condolences to fill the silence, only mindful amity, at your side, because watching the ocean with you was enough.

“So, that was my day.” It was the first thing spoken after a period of quiet, perfectly timed and delivered for it to bear a dry humor in its intention. Jungkook and you laughed, finding this the long needed release of tension in your head.

“Is this going to become a habitual thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Me complaining to you about my personal struggles that would have gone in my journal or somewhere far more private than this.” All said while your and Jungkook’s gazes didn’t wander from the view of the window. “Me inviting myself into your lighthouse, or not-lighthouse, whatever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Two heads turned towards each other almost as if it were on que.

The way your pupils dilated and softened conveyed every bit of thanks you held in your heart but couldn’t muster the courage to voice. Jungkook’s doe-eyed smile thanked you likewise and confessed the gratitude for how you had rescued him from yet another lonesome afternoon with a curtained window, an unused blanket, an empty chair, and a melancholic silence as he read his one of thousands of books. Not including The Odyssey, that was for your ears only.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Maybe a little.” His tease succeeded to provoke that smile of yours. And even though that was a favor on his end, he was the one that felt graced by it. Realistically, a smile costs nothing yet there grew an enormous debt in his heart; and even though he couldn’t afford it, all he could do was bask in every detail your smile, of the crease of your eyes, and of the way your cheeks took the form of a sweet Spring Peach, and the scrunch of your nose and brows. Before he sank himself deeper in debt, Jungkook beckoned for the two of you to return to your seats and read all your worries away.

---

Who would have guessed that The Odyssey, of all things, would be the thing that would occupy most of your Fridays through the rest of the winter? Sometimes you visited a Sunday, and other times you’d find yourself needing to hear The Odyssey on a Wednesday evening or a Monday morning. The days on which you swung by the now familiar lighthouse would vary, but they remained a weekly occurrence.

Jungkook had grown comfortable with this routine, reading to you while you watched him and the waves, but mostly him. Occasionally, his reading would cease to an interruption of his own doing to ask how your day was in a very specific way that only Jungkook seemed to exhibit. He’d ask you say anything but ‘good’ or ‘boring’ and he’d clarify that he wanted you to not leave out any details.

“Why?” You would ask. And he’d look at you as if you set yourself on fire.

“It’s important to me.” He’d reply as if it were that simple, or the answer you were looking for. Still, if it was important to him you didn’t need any more persuading.

Like when you told him you stopped by a coffee shop, he’d tell you to specify which drink you ordered and how it tasted.

“Cinnamon.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“No, I prefer peppermint but sometimes I combine those flavors and that becomes my other favorite.”

“That sounds sweet.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“It makes my insides feel like Christmas.”

“Is Christmas a feeling?”

“It is to me!” He smiled at your childlike enthusiasm because it made life seem a lot more appealing than he’d ever believed. Before you, the world was a little greyer. After you, suddenly full of vibrance, saturated to the grandest extents.

Or the time you brought a candle to fill the air with something a bit more pleasant than the smell of the old, wet stones of the lighthouse.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a candle, vanilla and patchouli.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember. I just found it in my house and thought this place needed something sweet.”

“But you’re here.” Your teeth bit down on your tongue when he said this. You almost fallen trapped in figuring out what motivated him to say this, but the flattery of his comment was all too pleasing to ignore.

“But I don’t smell like vanilla and patchouli.” You said, only to save face from the fact that you suddenly felt like a deer in headlights when he looked at you, bracing for when he would crash into you and hoping to god you can absorb the exhilaration of souls colliding; and hoping to god he would crash into you.

“Could you light it, then?”

“Of course.”

And the room filled with a sweetness that complimented your company finely. Now, whenever he would smell the scents of vanilla and patchouli he would think of you, and you of him.

He would continue asking these simple questions, and so on.

Why he thought it was essential for you to relay these almost invaluable intricacies was beyond you, but it did make you feel heard; it made you feel held as it always did. It made the value of your life gone without the need to be earned or proven, the value of the smaller moments that fell between bigger moments.

It made it all okay that you felt like you stripped the clothes from your whole life off for him to revere and that he’d rarely ever display such emotional nudity for you; you were okay with lying bare before his eyes, vulnerable and pliant to his every whim. Even when you wanted to know all of these things about Jungkook and he’d hold them captive or he’d only offer half sufficient answers, you collected as many bits of the puzzle as possible to try and piece together his story.

“How are your parents, Jungkook?”

“Long gone.”

“Oh, Jungkook… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I watched them grow old and content and that softened the blow.”

“Are you lonely?”

Yes, it’s excruciating when you are not here. I am tormented in your absence and all too plagued with despondency and I wish you knew that.

“I’ve grown used to it.”

“So you have.”

“So I have.”

You did not want him to be lonely; you didn’t want him to ever be sad but you wanted him to be able to say that he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you he was lonely; you wanted him to want you to know his heart. You wanted him to feel as naked as you felt. Vagueness was all you could ever manage to arrest from his gated mind.

And for once, the little he had given was more than you could ever ask for.

Sunday mornings with Jungkook were your favorite. The ocean was tame during this time on Sundays specifically and sailed you into its calmness; you were half asleep, resting on the sill running along the base of the window panes. Spring had been approaching which meant there were radiant glimmers of the early sun that reflected and glided along the ripples of the waves. Jungkook once said that every time he looked at these little pieces of diamond rays, he believed the sun and the sea performed in devotion for you and him alone.

“I love that.” And indeed you did. The idea that no one else witnessed this ocean, not this one, not the way you and Jungkook had, was a greedy disposition but felt so true.

“Would you like me to read?” He said in place of, Is my voice properly fitting for something as lovely as this moment?

“I want you to talk, but not of books.” You blinked slowly at Jungkook, “Could you tell me about yourself? Just one thing, anything you choose.” He saw those specks of diamonds glimmering in your irises. He felt so close to you, sitting on the other end of the window, and close enough to finally surrender a bit of his gated mind.

“When I was a child, I knew my days were numbered. The details of why aren’t important, but I digress.” You stuffed a scoff down your throat at the assertion that the details weren’t important. Him, of all people, claiming the details were unimportant had you whirling in a paradox. “With this in mind, I did my best to fulfill everything any child would have wanted. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped because that list of desires was never ending.”

Was this what he meant when he said he was in my position once? You wondered.

“I spent all my time looking for the next best thing I could achieve, because the best things that I had was, as you know, never enough. One week, the best thing would be finding a four leaf clover to give to my mother. The next, it was being the first in line for the new, long awaited comic book. Or, it was the time my father took me fishing on the lake, and then seconds after it was the first fish I caught and threw back into the water, and that best thing was soon replaced by my father’s proud smile.”

Your throat tightened as you visualized a young Jungkook sitting on the dock with his father, full of youth and excitement, and how nostalgia had ripened into your heart even though you had no place in this memory of his. This dream-like sequence had compelled a few tears to fill your eyes, fogging your vision of the older Jungkook that sat before you.

“When I grew older, in my adolescent and teenage years, the next best thing was fulfilling a newfound passion. It prompted me to buy out almost the entire library and major in World Literature. I spent the rest of my days from then on immersed in reading, as you can see. It was the only place I felt like I was achieving the next best thing, and it was cruel when I came to realize there was no way in hell I could finish all the books I’d collected in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time... for the next best thing to come along, I guess.” This answer appeared fabricated, but was subtle enough to pass through your mind without a second thought.

“And did it? Did it come along?”

It would have made no difference if your question had been asked to a brick wall because Jungkook brushed it off as he did every other question that would have given you another piece of his puzzle. He took precautions to avoid a defeat to your pouting by walking over to the left armchair and burying his face in the book’s fortitude. Before you had the chance to reiterate your question, Jungkook began to read, making it all too clear he was evading.

“Jungkook?” You whined to which he paid no mind by continuing to read.

“Is he being serious right now?” Again, you might as well have been talking to an inanimate object. There was nothing to be done when he lodged his restraint other than joining him in your armchair, quietly, permissively.

Every day, like this one, spent with him had you convinced it couldn’t be surpassed in enjoyment. And every day, your expectations had been exceeded. That was something you’d never think could happen. Soon, the cares and worries of this Winter melted as the avenue of Spring had unfolded before you. A long path, surrounded with flower blossoms and diamond coated seas, or in other words, the unfathomable had fallen into your hands.

The remainder of this pleasant Sunday had been consumed by The Odyssey and Jungkook’s voice singing its words as smoothly as the waves surrounding the lighthouse and small conversations during the pauses of his reading. One struck you into reminiscence of the first night you met.

“You never answered my question.” He paused, flipping through the many unanswered questions he’d left with you. Jungkook raised his brow to order specification of which one you referred to.

“What makes us human?” The due date of your essay passed over two months ago, however this didn’t diminish your curiosity to know his answer.

“In all honesty,” He paused and looked to assure you would believe his answer would be honest, or honest enough to cater your satisfaction. “I think it’s our desire to achieve the last best thing.”

Every fiber in you compiled its own list of questions in regards to his yet again ambiguous answer, though you had grown to accept that as a part of Jungkook. And you sure as hell accepted Jungkook, ambiguity and all.

“Hm.” It didn’t take a mind reader to know you had theorized any and all connotations branching off from his answer and he didn’t mind that you could be lost in search of whatever the actual meaning of it was.

The moon was in its fullest bloom tonight, and tomorrow, it would begin to wane into a crescent then into nothing but an empty space full of new and perhaps fortunate opportunities. Jungkook found the romance of this lunar phase well equipped for the dusty instrument he discovered in the base of the lighthouse.

“I found something that I think you’d like.” Your ears perked like a dog when it’d been presented with treats. “But you have to go get it. It’s in the other room.”

Whatever this surprise was, it had excited you enough to ignore how you’d have to descend and re-ascend the many stairs that would surely tire you. Your eager legs would have jumped right from the platform to the bottom of the lighthouse if the reality didn’t result in broken bones. As you rushed to the door to the other room, you pushed through and discovered a telescope standing in the corner of the otherwise empty space. A few moments later you were hustling back up the stairs, the telescope making the re-ascension of the stairs ten times as strenuous. All the while, Jungkook just stared in amusement at the way you struggled your way to the platform.

“No, I don’t want any help, thank you!” You said sarcastically through grunts of exertion before positioning the instrument in front of the window.

“Well, I didn’t offer you any, so, you’re very welcome.” He stood on the other side of the telescope, admiring the way you fell so easily in love with it, hands scaling the length of the scope.

“Do I just?” You pointed to the eyepiece at the end of the rod and he nodded. You brought your eye to the magnifying glass which was flooded with the enchanting glow of the stars. You’d never seen them this close, but this little gift of Jungkook’s had catapulted you into the illuminated abyss of the night sky. A measly woah was all that squeaked from your voice, because all the other words were stolen by the stars.

“Can you find any constellations?” He’d seen all the stars in the galaxy; that he was sure of. But none had shone brighter than the person he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Three o’clock had crept onto the antique clock, this late hour had worn down Jungkook’s walls completely as the soft glow of adornment laminated his eyes.

“I think I see ORion's belt. That’s the only one I know other than the Big Dipper.” You laughed at your own lack of knowledge of the stars. Knowledge didn’t seem to matter though, the beauty of the stardusted sky had taken care of that deficiency. You lifted yourself away from the telescope, allowing Jungkook a turn to stargaze.

“Have you heard of the Astral Plane?” Jungkook asking you something other than, ‘how was your day’, was a rare occurrence which most likely meant this was of some importance.

“I’ve heard of it, but I think I’ll need you to refresh my memory.” You really did need clarification on what exactly the Astral Plane entailed, though you mainly just wanted to hear him explain it.

“Some say it lies in the fourth dimension. It isn’t tangible or something that can be touched. It lies between everything, every atom, every cell, every city and forest and mountain and even between the crevasses of one’s own mind and soul. A place like this is full of divinity and complete attainment and the way it is reached has been theorized by many.” Jungkook’s meticulous readjustments of the telescope had you wondering which constellations he was searching for, or maybe he’d been looking for Venus or Mars or the Moon. “Some say you arrive there in your dreams, or when you reach enlightenment, or when death draws its curtain on you… I-I don't know why but I’ve always thought that it was stitched into the sky. Far beyond our galaxy, maybe the Astral Plane has situated itself in between each star, just like it does our souls, and exists as the vastness of outer space.” It turned out he wasn't looking for any of those things, he was looking for the Astral Plane.

Could the heat rising throughout your body be merely adoration, or was it something along the lines of a forlorn longing? When he spoke, you felt this sensation growing dense in your bones; you felt a gravitation towards him.

“Seems about right to me.” Fondness had stained your tone which filled some void in Jungkook’s hungry heart, and he’d failed to predict you were the one that would be able to settle it. “Maybe we’ll never reach the Astral Plane, but at least I’m here with you.”

When you said this, the hairs on his arms pointed towards the ceiling. For once in a very, very long time, Jungkook felt a euphoric resurgence striking through the catacombs of his soul and hot tears dripping down the expanse of his cheeks, to the tip of his chin, and onto the glass scope that was shielding this sudden emotional combustion. He blinked away the tears to the best of his abilities and turned away from you and the telescope and the sky. Jungkook felt the push of air from your movement towards him, but he shifted further away.

“Are yo-”

“I found a cluster of stardust, go look.” He averted you from him and you always fell victim to every trick in his book.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” The grip you had on the telescope was firm, like you were trying to hold onto the stars themselves.

“Amazing.” He said. This reiteration wasn’t for the stars, however. He wondered if you knew that. He wondered if you could feel how consumed he was by your magnificence under the full moon that reigned with gentleness over the waves. The once wild tides, now moving with the same serenity and romance embedded into Jungkook and this lighthouse. He wondered if you could see he had been emotionally disrobed and bearing all his affection for you. And he wondered how he was so okay with that.

Six o’clock didn’t feel like six o’clock. Your eyes that struggled to keep open told you otherwise, so again you and him were parting ways as the sun had begun dawning over the horizon and there were no more stars to fill the hours slipping away. Jungkook did all he could to compose himself. He’d offered to walk you out; you reached the door that led to the dewy, Spring air awaiting your departure from the lighthouse.

“Wait, ___!” This exclamation echoed louder than the beating of his crimson heart. After stepping through the threshold, you turned to meet his gaze, teary-eyed from what you guessed was from lack of sleep. Teary-eyed from what he knew was because of another egregious goodbye. “Thank you.”

This moment seemed fitting to test the theory that actions speak louder than words. This moment called for the lapse of courage in need to act, not speak. This moment was the moment when you finally expressed the thankfulness that, to you, seemed to outweigh his by pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It was much colder than your lips and the docile warmth of the morning, but once you pulled away the warmth had stained his cheek.

Jungkook felt like every cell in his body was evaporating into the space around him. Like the way a fire would extend its heat into the air or the way Spring melted away the frost ridden Winter, your act had covered him in a blanket of love and refuge from the loneliness once vaulting his heart. And it certainly spoke louder than words; all the words in every book Jungkook had ever read and the words left unsaid and the words passing between everyone in the universe.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Hermit! You helped me see Orion’s Belt up close and personal!” You called as your strides began a slow fleet from a laughing Jungkook. You waved, now standing a generous distance from him, and he found this gave him the space needed to finally let his tears fall.

“I love you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to your ears and heart.

A revelation had overcome him, and no matter how many times he tried to wipe the tears away, they’d be instantly replenished like a stream of water rushing from a conquered dam, spilling over endlessly, with all control suspended in the air around him.

Was it finally here? The last, best thing?

---

A week after the stargazing, your mind had mapped out the stars as you too searched for that Astral Plane. To you, Jungkook’s proposition of it being strewn in the night sky was the only theoretical that made sense. You wanted to flaunt your newfound passion for this concept he’d introduced, and admittedly - and more importantly - you wanted to kiss him again, leading to yet another blissful walk down the seashore to the lighthouse. The air was warm but not humid, carrying a breeze that evened out the sun’s heat nicely. A few pillows of clouds were cascading through the sky, never staying in one spot for too long; you’d come to appreciate each one’s temporary presence and when they passed, you grew to appreciate that as well. The gaze once fixed on the sand had now traveled to the waves of much gentler motion than ever before.

This walk, unlike the dozens of others, felt different. The streets looked lovely and the air felt clean in your chest, giving you a pleasant journey far more intimate than the last. Then you realized, it felt like you were walking back home.

When you grew closer to the lighthouse, you noticed the curtains had been drawn which was strikingly unusual for a sunny day such as this one. This was a passing observation as you made your way to the base of the lighthouse.

Through the door to the room before the lighthouse, you were taken aback to find your armchair sitting in front of the table. you walked up to discover a single, folded parchment sealed with a red wax stamp labeled with your name along the top of the paper.

This felt eerie, for some reason, and you called out his name only to be met with silence, before sitting yourself down and unsealing the note.

It read in his voice:

My Dearest, ___

I wrote this to relay a lot of things left unsaid. The first being goodbye. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, though no amount of remorse could possibly appease my actions.

Your heartbeat had grown rampant, until your eyes read those words. It was then when it stopped altogether. Still, you continued to read.

I kept things from you like the fact that our encounter in the town’s square was all but coincidental. The truth is scary, and my truth would have turned you away from the beginning. It was selfish, I admit, but I do not think I could have endured such a loss. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark all this time, but I am beyond gratified for what you granted me in spite of that.

Maybe it might seem cruel. You are not alone in feeling that — never alone. But, we were never meant to spend every Sunday morning, or Friday evening, or Wednesday afternoon together to watch the waves float along with the hours lost reading to you; I knew this was not the end of your story, just mine.

The books I have read over and over have imprisoned me in search of the “next best thing”. To my dismay, I thought I had run out of time to find it. But then you came along. You helped set me free by allowing me to live out a few more “best things” through the way you shared your life with me, unselfishly, warmly, kindly— You helped me move on.

I know you too will move on from this. I hope I could at least leave you with the tools and courage to find each “next best thing” in store. If not that, then this lighthouse, open to you and only you, and a myriad of good memories to ease our parting. I know in my heart you deserve nothing less.

I hope you find contentment somewhere in the sea or on the sand or in the stars, or perhaps somewhere in between.

Once you do, we will meet again within the Astral Plane, my love. I swear it. And if you miss me, just look through the telescope and find me woven in the spaces amidst Orion’s Belt.

Thank you. Again and again I thank you and it is still not enough. Thank you for you, for your warmth, for your salvation, for your smile, for your endless questions, for re-introducing me to the aroma of vanilla and patchouli but it was not as sweet as your companionship, for putting good use of the right armchair and the view from our window, for making the odyssey a little less lonely to read, and thank you for stepping into my lighthouse and my life.

Don't you see, it was you. You were my last, best thing.

with love and sorrow,

Jeon Jungkook

Before you got to the end of the letter, you were racing up the spiraling stairs, ignoring the burn in your tightened chest, how the air in the lighthouse had suffocated your lungs. The dizziness that blurred your eyes had not slowed your climb up the stairs, and the wetness of your tears now seeping into his letter.

You reached the top, The Odyssey greeting you on the chair Jungkook would have been seated in. Your breaths were staggered and warm, filling the mournful emptiness of the lighthouse.

“Jungkook.” You whispered. You begged for a reply. The curtains were drawn over the window, like never before, and exposed a bronze plaque peeking out from the end of the fabric. You pushed the drapes aside to read what was engraved into the metal plate and the first page of The Odyssey that hung below it.

In loving memory of our beloved son, Jeon Jungkook. May he rest in peace. 1918-1942.

The note below read:

The Odyssey

Jeon and ___ Lighthouse.

You pieced the puzzle together, finally. And with that, came the final picture, so beautiful and mesmerizing and everything you could have ever hoped for, and more.

“Jungkook.” You repeated as a bid of farewell, with a heart full of satisfaction and content, and Jungkook. You pressed the letter to your chest in hopes his words would mend your aching heart.

And it was true, he was not your last best thing, only one of them.

But he was undoubtedly your most cherished and beloved best thing.

715 notes · View notes

sophialikesthings · 4 years ago

Text

Death Of Me 2.8

Song: Skinny Dipping Sabrina Carpenter

"I don't know how long he'll be out, but here it is." I opened the door to the room.

"Whoa! You've got to be kidding me."

"This is a map of OBX, The lighthouse, the well." Kiara pointed out

"Pope come here, This is Denmark's handwriting for sure." JJ held up the Diary.

"Denmark, you genius!" Pope scanned the entire room. "He hand painted all of this."

"Yeah, question is why. What was he trying to tell us?"

Its gotta have something to do with the key, right?"

"They were talking a lot about angels, also." I sighed admiring the art.

"Guys, Denmark's famous last words. The real treasure lies at the foot of the angel."

"Spread out."

"Church, angels?"

"Could this be an angel?"

"No JJ, that's a donkey." I laughed.

"Hey yo, hey, guys, I think I found something ." JJ looked at the wall.

"This gian tree is still on Goat island, you know what it's called?" JJ looked at me with a smirk.

"Angel oak."

"And look there is the key hole." He pointed to the middle of it."

"That is where they went, we have to go." We all rushed out.

"Guys, I think I'm Sherlock Holmes."

===

"Shit tides coming in." We looked out on the muddy trail.

"What do you think, chief?" JJ asked John B.

"I'm thinking it's looking a little dicey."

"Well clearly Limbrey got through." I pointed out. "And why are yall acting like you're not gonna do it anyway, like when have yall ever done a safe thing?"

"She's got a point. Speed is your friend here,okay." JJ directed him.

We started barreling through the deep mud. everyone yelling at John B to speed up.

"Alright, so word to the wise, defiantly know gators nest back here so keep your eyes peeled .

We walked through the marsh to hear Rafe and Carla bickering.

after they left we ran to what they dug up,

"It's Cecilia, Denmark's wife."

"He was hung for burying his wife, and they defiled her grave."

I climed up onto the van.

"Guys, look." I stuck my hand in the hole in the tree.

"There is something in here."

"Ahhh." I acted like my hand got caught in something.

"Demi!" JJ jumped up on the van with me.

"The look on your face was priceless." I laughed grabbing what was in the tree.

I tossed it down to Pope and hopped off of the Van.

"It's at the church!" Pope read the writing.

===

"Awe crap! The tide rose."

"Oh, this doesn't look good." Pope poked his head in between John B and JJ.

"How high are the spark plugs?" I asked.

"They're good. We're fine." He brushed off my question.

"No, but how high are they."

"Just above the tail light?" He guesstimated.

"That's three feet, that can't be three feet deep."

"She'll make it." JJ boosted John B up with false confidence.

we started hurdling into the marsh.

"i think we miscalculated."

"What are we gonna do? we are stuck."

"I can take my dads truck." I offered.

"He has all the stuff that can pull the twinkie out?"

"Yeah, topper got his car stuck in mud when he and kelce were being stupid in the woods. This isn't that different."

"I'll go with her." JJ volunteered.

"Of course you would." John B laughed.

===

"Dad! I need your truck!" I yelled grabbing the keys off the key rack.

"Why?"

"Car's stuck in the marsh at goat island."

"Demetria! How many times are you damn kids gonna stop fooling around in the marsh!"

"Save the lecture, bye!" I gave him a quick hug goodbye.

"The pully things where are they?"

"I think its in the surf shack I'll be right back." he hopped out of the car.

Soon JJ came out with his father.

"What the frick?"

"He needs to get to the marina, there is a boat he can take there. You got the stick on your truck . Twenty minutes that is all I need."

"Okay, I trust you." I got back into the truck

We stopped at the local market to get him food.

He started tapping to the beat of the song on my head rest.

"Can I help you?" I turned back to him.

"You're the Sheriff's daughter, correct?" He asked

"What is it to you?"

"What are you doing with my no good son?"

"Don't talk about him like that."

"I'm just stating the obvious princess."

I elbowed him in the chest.

"Don't call me that."

"Feisty! Like your momma."

Lucky for me JJ came out with food and got back into the car.

===

"Okay were here." I pulled up.

"tell your mom I say hi." He leaned in. making my skin crawl.

"Shut up." JJ pulled him back.

===

"Where have you been? John B got bit by a gator." Kiara asked

"What the hell happened?" I jumped out of the truck.

"JOHN, yo B GOT BIT BY A GATOR!" They yelled.

"I don't know why I'm getting yelled at when I would get killed if Rafe knew I was here."

"You're being yelled at because it was 20 minutes."

"It was Luke's fault honestly."

"Shut Up!" JJ yelled.

"I just helped my dad leave this island for good. Like, he's not ever coming back. He's straight up like the spanish. Just, "Bon voyage."" JJ sighed.

"Pretty sure that isn't spanish." I corrected him.

"That is absolutely not the point right now."

"All we got, and I know for a fact all I got is you guys, Okay? You're it." He looked at me.

"I've come so close to losing all of you, I mean shit Demi, you almost drowned." He hugged me.

"That was a great speech, also you should like think about rosetta stone because your spanish and french are kinda flip flopped." John B clapped.

===

"Okay, you're telling me Denmark Tanny decided to hid the cross here?" We opened the old rotten wood doors to the church.

"If I were a big ass cross and wanted to be hidden in an old church, where would I be?" John B started looking under the pews

"The clues lead us here! The cross is in this church!"

"Where would it be?" Pope started looking up.

He stood up his eyes directly looking at the beams above

"Oh my god! Look at that."

Pope started climbing up the walls

"Pope, these walls are rotten be careful."

He pounded on the first support beam.

"This one is solid, i'm gonna try the other beam." He scooted his way across.

"He's gonna die." I mumbled.

"Pope, be careful there is a giant wasps nest above you." I shouted up.

He started punching the old wood as it fell down the cross revealed its self.

"No way." We all looked up in amazement.

#jj fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #kiara carrera #love triangle #obx netflix #outer banks #rafe cameron x oc #john b routledge #pope heyward #Spotify

2 notes · View notes

jadafitch · 8 months ago

Text

Goose Rocks Light, Penobscot Bay, North Haven, Maine. Back in the day, being a lighthouse keeper in Maine required a taste for lobster. Especially in a "spark plug" style beacon, with no land for a garden. Many meals were provided by local lobstermen.

109 notes · View notes

dragonstoravens · 5 years ago

Text

Babylon Vol. 1: A Different Normal, A Modicum Of Restraint

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(We’ve got a long one for you today, since the plot is kicking off for real now. Hope you enjoy chapters 6 and 7, we’d love to hear any thoughts or comments!!!)

6. A Different Normal

A fancy black car-- not quite a limo, but close to it, and clearly fully automated-- was waiting in the otherwise empty parking lot when Azure’s dropship landed. She could see a figure leaning against it, shadowy in the low evening light, but she recognized the distinctive braid tucked behind one ear. Something sparkled in it, matching the tiny gemstones in his ears that he definitely hadn’t been wearing last time she saw him. He was dressed casually for now, in a white undershirt and black slacks, which made sense since she had his suit. He looked up as she landed, raising one hand slightly in greeting.

She stepped out of her drop ship, long, high-slitted dress glittering in the orange light of the streetlamps. The champagne color had been her brother’s doing. Apparently, it contrasted nicely with the natural tan of her skin and the golden tones of her red hair. She carried a matching suit in a clear bag over her shoulder. Performing something like a saunter to cover the horrible wobble of her heels, she called to him and waved as she approached. "Hey!"

It was hard to tell in just the light from the fast food sign, but for a moment it looked as if his cheeks had darkened a little when he saw her. By the time she reached him though, he looked about as she remembered him- calm and collected.

“Hello. Thanks for coming, you look… very nice.” He opened the side door of the car for her.

She stepped into the car, hair brushing his arm as she drawled out, "Thanks Hotshot, y'ain't so bad yourself. Brought your suit, fresh outta tailorin’. Matchin' and everythin'."

She had argued with her brother on this for hours, whether or not they needed to match. Crimson insisted it was like marking territory, and wasn’t that his whole goal, to look off-market? Azure didn’t care much for the idea of metaphorically pissing all over her only off-ship friend just to save him from some overzealous mogul parents. But then again, that WAS what she was supposed to do, so the little champagne number was donned and the matching suit tailored to fit with little argument once she’d given in.

She was here now, freshly showered so the engine grease took a backseat to the perfume for once (not that the metallic tang truly left, Crim tried to no avail). Her hair was in shiny curls, carefully separated to look effortless. She laid the suit in the back of the car and made herself comfortable, crossing one leg in front of the other and hoping Trinity wasn’t observant enough to notice just how high the slit in this dress went. Or how uncomfortable these shoes were. Or how…sticky this lipgloss was.

The car ride wasn’t terribly long, but it was long enough for her to ask him the last few questions she had about this and pull out the small add-on she’d been working on. “It’s a short range mental comm link. You plug it into your cybernetic port. It transmits clear and intentional thoughts as auditory stimulation and gives a sort of emotional backsplash to help with tone comprehension. I thought maybe it’d help in case I goofed up real bad or maybe if you wanted me to fill you in on some weird cybernetics detail in case that ever came up.”

“Ingenious.” He pulled his collar aside, exposing the edges of the trinity knot tattoo on his back, and plugged in the attachment. He blinked, and smirked over at her. You take the front seat, I’ll put up the divider and change in the back. That dress is really— “Uh, did that work?”

She nodded, quirking a brow to signify she’d definitely heard that. All of that. “Like a charm. If you gotta put a ‘stop’ at the end of your sentences like a telegraph or somethin’, that’ll guarantee end transmission for that instance. You know, for future champagne dresses.”

“...Got it.” He looked down, trying not to meet her eyes, and almost immediately back up again as his gaze hit the high slit stretching up her thigh… almost to her hip. Ok, definitely needed to stop that train of thought before it even left the station. He grabbed the suit and climbed into the back. “Anyway, I’m going to change. I can quiz you on the way there, have you looked over the messages I sent about the forks?”

“We’re startin’ with forks?” she whined, averting her gaze from anything that could feasibly be considered the divider. “Yeah, I read them. Pull from the outside and move in, don’t drink the lemon bowl.”

“Right. We’ll make a socialite of you yet.”

Entering one of these champagne shindigs, as Azzy referred to them on the way there just to get a rare laugh out of him, was one hell of an ordeal. There was the occasional photographer and way more security than she thought they needed. Her legs were going to give out from beneath her. There were so many people. Why were there so many, there didn’t need to be. She kept her head high and her eyes forward as she tried not to accidentally send Trinity her repeating heels-walking mantra and breathing pattern. She failed miserably, her panic and counts to four seeping into his head. He had tried to set his hand on her shoulder, but she felt bold with nerves and settled it on her hip herself, just above where the skin peeked out. Something in her felt fear and decided it was always better to double down. Probably shouldn’t be afraid of some skin, hotshot. She hoped it went through as smoother than she felt, because she felt terrified.

The only mental response she received was a general feeling of slight annoyance and displeasure, half joking, about equivalent to a casual flip of the bird. Besides the awkward positioning of his hands, he seemed at ease here, at least outwardly. It made sense that he’d be used to this kind of event, but she could feel his vague frustration with the whole affair. He scanned the room, checking out all those surplus guards, as they entered into the main hall. She felt his hand settle more securely on her waist, his fingertips slightly warm against her skin, and watched as a smile came over his face in obvious answer to the raised eyebrows and whispers directed his way as a few of the other attendees noticed his new companion. The smile was an unfamiliar one, to her, like a classy version of a customer service smile, but no one else seemed to detect any insincerity. She supposed it made sense, if that was all they ever saw of him.

She smiled up at him, kind of crooked because that’s the only kind she really had. Her heart was beating a little faster than she was used to, but that would level out soon. She scanned the room herself, making note of the attendants. Glad to know these haven’t changed much since I was a little kid. She laid her hand on his upper back, asking something inane out loud to cover for the fact that this was the best she could really do at reassurance, which she tried to send his way with some kind of success. She wasn’t used to this many eyes on her, and was honestly grateful for his hand on her hip. It grounded her as she desperately fought the urge to turn around and walk out right this instant. Too much noise, too many people. He was warm? And kind of gentle. Pleasant. Much better than the crowds. Crowds were always bad. Trinity was at least sort of nice, in his own weird way.

Trinity could feel her anxiety through the comm, and hoping to more easily guide her through the crowds, he slid his arm back around to be positioned between them, maneuvering her own arm through it. Her hand wrapped around his bicep, and he tugged her close to his side more easily this way, without having to grab his friend by the waist.

It’s alright, most of them are more interested in me than you. He smirked slightly as he responded aloud as well, the slight change in expression clearly just meant for her. Besides, there’s only two or three I actually have to introduce you to. They’re gossipy enough to do the rest for us.

Azure had been about to say something back about the crowds or the incessant gossip, but instead she paused in her seemingly endless spinning thoughts to give his arm just a slight squeeze.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, out loud but mostly to herself, “Oh my God, you work out.”

He blinked and turned to look at her, mildly baffled. At least the nerves had abruptly disappeared. “...You’ve SEEN me shirtless,” he said, quietly enough that only she would hear it.

“I don’t see jack shit that ain’t numbers ‘n wires when you’re in that chair, so sorry to break it to ya dear.” She squeezed again, smirking. “God damn. Impressive.”

“Get it together,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes slightly, but he sounded more amused, or vaguely pleased, than annoyed. He smiled politely at a passing couple and switched over to the comm. Don’t you have a boyfriend?

He’s bi and he’s got eyes, he’d say it too if he was here. She thought of Turq, waiting back on the ship for her to return and tell him all the terrible ways she’d been bored out of her skull. For just a moment, she smiled to herself, and then she caught sight of the sheer height of the ceiling and the number of bodies beneath it and clung ever so slightly more steadfast to her lighthouse in this heavily perfumed storm.

She swallowed the thick feeling in her throat and shook out some small sparks from her hands behind her back, joining in the small talk in small starts and quiet stutters. She was initially going to try and hide the accent, fearing it would make her sound less educated than she was, but that went out the window when she realized the sheer amount of talking these people did. Besides, the number of races, species, and languages floating around the room made it pretty easy to blend in. It seemed to be mostly terrans, but not without plenty of notable exceptions. She found herself mentally repeating names and trying to tie them to faces so she wouldn’t forget for later, really only succeeded in projecting her mnemonic devices to Trinity on accident. “Jerry the Gerbil-faced Gent” wasn’t something she was proud of, but he heard it anyway.

I’ll tell you if it’s one you really should remember, he managed to send, with a clear feeling of suppressed laughter, but he does look like a gerbil, right? The few guests Trinity engaged with for longer than it took to exchange pleasantries were, he explained, donors or investors, gossips they were relying on to get her ‘gala name’ around, or even one or two people he told her were Decent, or at least interesting to talk to.

In Azzy’s head, Camilla Garza was a pleasant-but-opinionated woman who knew how to walk in heels and didn’t need Trinity but liked having him around. But, as he identified the people who’d be doing the heavy lifting of making her known, she found the character rapidly shifting, then nearly fading away under the weight of having to be seen so much all at once. She found herself being more uncomfortable being someone else than she thought she’d be, still nervous to say the wrong thing but with an added layer of a falsified history to remember. Her mind wandered to making fun shapes within circuitry boards, like dogs or clouds as she fought her oncoming shutdown. She had thought the shell of someone else would give her the courage to do some talking, but really it made her more nervous she would make too big a misstep and she withdrew in response. So, she settled on being as much herself as she could manage while feeling like she was wearing someone else’s skin in the form of lace and chiffon. It couldn’t stop her wandering mind, but it kept her closer, at least. Trinity seemed more at ease when she said something quintessentially Azzy in any case, and was quick to cover for her if she needed it.

The first part of the evening, mingling before the food was served, went by faster than she’d expected, although she did have to suffer through a few seemingly endless discussions of money and business. Her mind wandered to the pleasant drape of fabric along the hip of some woman in red, then to her most recent inventions, only returning when Trinity asked for some small tidbit of info on cybernetics he didn’t understand or remember. He assured her she didn’t have to stay glued to his side if she didn’t want to, and pointed out the punch table and some younger guests who’d be safe enough, and more interesting to talk to. It would be easy enough to find each other again or call for backup with the comm link, separating a little wouldn’t harm them any.

Really, she’d have done anything to avoid the 50 year olds and their incessant need to talk about colonies and funds and stocks whether he offered her an out or not. She was pretty sure most of these windbags were some type of war criminal, too. His offer pulled her out of a reverie made entirely of the form and function of cartilage and whether something inorganic could replace it. She nodded to her not-date and made her way to the huge table of refreshments. Wonder if they’ve got e-z cheez and some club crackers, she joked into the comm as she approached the table, making small talk with some other attendees she thought looked like they might also be a little in over their heads.

I’d say rich folks prefer difficult cheese, and maybe country club crackers, came the response through an undercurrent from his out-loud conversation, something only identifiable as “taxes” personified.

She laughed at his joke and one that had been told to her over the snack table at the same time, and she was sure he could hear her even halfway across the room. That was one thing she hadn’t quite been able to practice away: her laugh sounded like something always on the verge of becoming a snort, no matter how hard she tried to keep it at a giggle. Slightly embarrassed, she looked around the room to see if it was worth being self conscious or if she could get away with it this once. She chanced a look up into the balcony, and her heart leapt higher into her throat.

A figure cloaked in black with something very suspiciously gun-shaped in its arms stood atop the balcony and hidden in the shadows, aiming. Breathing. Time stood still. Every sound except the beating of her heart went silent. She excused herself blankly, confused but jumping into action without thinking. Her eyes drew lines from the barrel to the floor, leading her directly to Trinity. A whole platoon of guards outside and someone had snuck in an entire sniper rifle. She began weaving her way back to him with a small plate of food and a glass of champagne. Her eyes tracked the balcony figure the whole time. They didn’t see her. She felt each footstep like an earthquake. Her head the whole time calculated angles and forces and possibilities, the distance between her and Trinity, between Trinity and the balcony, the speed of a bullet and the likelihood she might be too late. By the time she reached Trinity’s side with the plate, she knew she’d been spotted. The figure on the balcony twitched, minutely. Her brother’s voice rang out in her head: “Look for the hesitation. For most of us, there’s just a little.”

Now. That twitch was the hesitation. Her hands sparked a little, and somewhere in Trinity’s peripheral vision, something glittered. Somewhere in front of him and off to that same side, the air was suddenly warm. Azzy pushed a glass into his hand, bent down to adjust her shoe strap, and proceeded to slink away so she could have an anxiety attack in peace. Thought you looked hungry.

He acknowledged her briefly, but otherwise seemed occupied with his conversation. He hadn’t noticed a thing. Her relief that he was unbothered was unparalleled, but not very long lasting. She looked at the bullet in her hand, stopped in its tracks by a cybernetic field. Testing hadn’t proven it to work while fully invisible all the time. She’d gotten lucky, that ability could have caused a stir, and that was the absolute last thing she wanted.

The figure who had fired was no longer on the balcony. She returned to her conversation partners, mind a little more than slightly preoccupied, but it wasn’t like it mattered much. She’d just stopped a bullet, she was torn between relief her friend was okay, joy her hard work had worked in a field test, and horror that she’d just had to stop a bullet at a fancy dinner. Let them brand her as a little shy. It wasn’t like it was untrue, anyway. Her fingers worried at the crystal stem of her glass while someone asked her name for the fifth time. The figure never returned to her sight. She worried nonetheless, cutting transmission to Trinity’s communicator every minute or two so that her brain couldn’t give her away. He didn’t like these things, there was no sense making them worse for him with scary things like assassination attempts.

She was snapped out of her dark mood a little while later by a terran man who’s toupee was about three incredibly distracting inches off center. Surely, Trinity had something in place to keep himself alive at these things. A vest, at least, maybe someone casing the joint for him. She could relax, definitely. She had to relax, or he’d know and she wasn’t certain what she’d do if he asked. It wasn’t like they were super close, they mostly just fucked around and made jokes when they weren’t working. It occurred to her that she might have ended up taking that bullet for him, if the field hadn’t worked. Best to maybe play it cool. Topsy-turvy toupee at your four o’clock. Don’t look too quickly, he’ll notice. She tried her best to sound mirthful, normal.

Azure, that’s the CEO of Lighthouse Industries, a very important name in manufacturing circles! Have some damn respect. His mental voice was mock-offended. Call him MR. Topsy-turvy toupee.

Of course, of course, my bad. She sent back from her new spot against the wall, glass of wine in hand as she watched the party continue. Mr. Topsy-Turvy Toupee has a delightful taste in married women. His head was treated to the image of a shapely ass in a blue dress. She sent an apology immediately after, but she wasn’t sure he could hear it through his own silent mental laughter. Across the room, she watched him twitch slightly, as if covering a cough, but she knew. A grin split her face as she watched him try not to laugh. Keep it together Jericho, or they’ll find out you’re having fun.

Don’t you know? Rich people aren’t allowed to act like they have emotions. It ruins the illusion of the million-credit stick up each and every ass.

This time, she actually snorted. She turned her laugh into a cough as well, though not as successfully, and then someone somewhere rang a bell. Dinner, said Trinity in her head.

Come ‘n git it, she drawled in his, moving near him to walk to wherever the food was. Think I’ll be able to eat as much as I need to discreetly or am I limited to one serving like everyone else? She was kidding, of course. She had eaten a full meal before this to account for any surprise need to use her cybernetics. And she was glad she had, but it was still good to account for deficit. Because using them the way she had this evening had definitely caused a deficit, however minor.

Well… he hedged, sounding slightly regretful, there’s some bullshit about eating like a bird, and the portions won’t be huge anyway. But at least there’s a million courses. I’ll make sure no one judges you for eating everything.

A small wave of gratitude reached him just as she did, her hand sliding up his arm to rest in the crook of his elbow. Eatin’ like a bird’s bullshit anyway, these motherfuckers ever met a seagull? Ravenous bastards.

He chuckled aloud, quietly enough that only she could hear it, but it gave his face a genuine smile that could be seen by anyone who’d care to look. He pulled her in close and ushered her over to the table, pulling out her chair for her. She looked confused for a moment, glancing up at him through her lashes with her brows knit together before remembering that this was something people did sometimes. When they, y’know, cared. And were polite. And weren’t exclusively sitting on mess hall benches when they ate meals with you. She didn’t try to mask the blush on her cheeks. It’d help sell the bit, anyway, if she looked embarrassed. She muttered a “Thank you” and sat.

True to his word, he set a precedent for her to be able to finish her food at dinner and even get more, by requesting a second helping from the kitchen. Azure nodded her head in thanks and let him know she really owed him one before tucking into the food as quickly as she thought was acceptable in her present company. There were a few whispers and confused glances, but after a moment some started to follow suit, many of the young women looking actually relieved that they didn’t have to be the one to breach unspoken tradition just to be able to eat until they’re full. Dinner otherwise went off without any huge mishaps (Azzy wasn’t perfect at eating fancy dinners but with a poker face like hers, it didn’t really matter), although there must have been something odd with the comm links. There was a brief feeling of darkness in the back of Azzy’s mind for a moment after the extra food had been brought out, but a glance at Trinity revealed nothing but a genuine smile as he chatted with her and the other guests seated near them. He even snagged a bite of food off her plate at one point, to the amusement of the couples around them. He smiled at her as he chewed, a mischievous glint in his eye replacing any darkness she might have thought was there before. She bumped her shoulder into his, protective of her food and also in an attempt to gauge if anything was still off. A shake of her head was all it took to dispel the odd feeling of foreboding, and she tried to focus on how to answer a few of the more personal questions posed to her.

Quick, remind me how we met?, She pleaded, feigning interest in a conversation to her right that was rapidly approaching pulling her in. And if you make a joke about your eye, I swear to God I’ll drink the fingerbowl.

There was a brief moment before he replied, but his mental voice sounded perfectly normal. Well shit, there goes half my repertoire. But I suppose I can control myself, since the eye’s a secret anyway. Out loud, he seamlessly joined her conversation, leaning over to put an arm around her with a fond smile, and began telling the story they’d decided on to the gaggle of socialites on her opposite side. She smiled up at him, leaning into his arm, even chancing a little peck on his temple. Nothing big, a brush of the lips against his face, small stuff. She wondered how people could do this all the time, the physical interaction and the talking and the being so on her feet all the time. She was so nervous, watching his face with concern displayed as placid adoration. She kept her worry that maybe that was overdoing it to herself. However, the mental request to stop never came, and in fact Trinity seemed to allow himself to relax a little closer to her when she made the first move.

She filed the fact that this was evidently the new ceiling for their comfort with one another away and tried to ignore the heat of his body on her back. Conversations swirled around her, some going over her head and others offending her with how little the speakers actually seemed to know about the topic at hand. There were so many people. There were so many eyes. How do you stay here through all this noise? She asked, initially intending it to be the beginning of a joke but deciding a genuine question was due every once in a while. My head hurts from the 47 different topics. And what’s a mutual fund? This dude just offered me his and I’m not certain if it's an innuendo or not.

I know. I learned to deal with it young. Plus, you have to learn when to put yourself above a conversation, tell them with a look that they don’t deserve your attention right now. Before she could unpack that sentiment, there was another soft bell, and he stood. Perfect timing. There’s just dancing now, and then you never have to come to one of these again.

She was almost saddened by the idea of not doing this again, until she looked around and saw just how big this hall was once again. The place was packed, and now she had to move around in it. Her shoulders tensed a fraction, fingertips sparking slightly before she shook it out. Unbidden, the memory of the bullet currently settled in her pocket rattled through her brain and she had some second thoughts, mind racing and looking around once more for dark figures on balconies. Spotting none, she allowed herself to be led to the dancefloor while she regulated her breathing. Shoulders still tense, she looked up at him again. I gotta warn ya, Crim said this was harder in heels, and I wasn’t great in boots.

It’s alright, I’ll lead. We can start slow. He paused, hands hovering near her, not quite touching her despite the fact that he’d had a hand on her waist without a problem for most of the night. ...May I?

Sure thing, Hotshot. She fixed him with another crooked little grin, this one much shyer than some of the ones previous. She tried not to look at their feet. Well, her feet. He smiled and put his arms firmly around her, steadying her as the music began to play. He might have been holding her a little closer than normal, but once they began to move it was clear why- this close, his feet were the only ones she could really step on, and he could hold her up if she started to wobble on her heels.

She glanced down more often than she probably was supposed to, and she was definitely unsteady on her feet more often than her steps could be classified as sure. He looked down at her and saw her tongue poking out a little at the corner of her mouth, gears turning behind her eyes. The comm she had forgotten to cut off notified him of the various patterns she was trying to trace in her head-- the beat of the music and her heart and the movement of her feet and the other couples, over here was a mental map of the entire building, and from the sound of her thoughts she couldn’t seem to figure out what orientation was up. She was overthinking it, and really badly too.

“Az.” He spoke out loud, quietly enough that only she could hear him using that name instead of Camilla. “Tell me something about cybernetics. Or memes, or something.”

She startled, her eyes locking with his as she froze. A question died on her lips, and she took a deep breath before she began speaking again. “The current core tenets of cybernetics and cyber-biotics research make the assumption that a person with a brain is a person piloted by electrical impulses-”

Was the beginning of Cybernetics 101 really the thing he had wanted to hear? Probably not. But, as she rambled on, the intensity behind her eyes softened, and she could be led around the dancefloor to the sounds of her own musings about whether electrons could really be made solid, or if they already were solid. He nodded along, and occasionally added a chuckle to make the act more effective, as if she was telling some entertaining story rather than reciting the first chapter of a textbook. Eventually she broke away from reciting basics and asked him a real question. Her eyes never left his face as she asked his preference with a grin: “Platinum or steel plating on auxiliary processor casings, and why’s it obviously steel?”

“Well besides the expense, there’s durability to worry about,” he shot back. “Platinum’s good for about two minutes, so you can say the word ‘platinum’ in your elevator pitch and sound fancy.” It was easy to fall into their typical banter, now that the music and the movement of couples around them left them space to talk normally without worrying about keeping up appearances for the other guests. She laughed at his jokes while telling a few of her own, steadier on her feet and seeming like maybe she’d somehow gotten used to being here. She’d even forgotten the risque height of the slit in her dress. His hands were warm, and she didn’t really mind as long as she didn’t focus on it too hard. It crossed her mind that maybe she and Turq should dance sometime. It was nice, just to be in someone else’s orbit.

Time seemed to slip by once they got the hang of gliding around the floor together, and by the time the orchestra was playing its last song, Trinity was more comfortable holding her than he’d been all night. He found himself already feeling her absence the next time he went to an event like this- he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had fun at one of these. The thought almost surprised him. He had enjoyed it, despite everything, even despite what had happened at dinner, and he smiled down at her as he escorted her out to the waiting car as the night drew to a close. He opened the door for her once more, and once in the safety of the car with its tinted windows, they could both finally fully relax.

Stretching out as far as she could, Azure slouched back in her seat while trying to mind where her skirt fell. Her shoulders sagged and she realized just how much tension she’d been holding in them. Absently, her hand went to the small bump in her pocket and she frowned, fishing the offending object out. She cleared her throat, willing it to open enough to let her speak. Her mouth felt so dry.

“How much personal security do you usually have at these things, Trinity?”

“What?” He half turned to face her with a shrug. His hair was starting to come undone from its neat braid, falling over his forehead and cheek in soft waves, and he looked more relaxed than he had all night. “Well, there’s guards and security at most of them. I don’t usually bring my own detail, they tend to get in the way. But I’ve gotten fairly good at taking care of myself. ...Why do you ask?”

“You might want to look into bringin’ one or two personal guards, at least to conduct an initial sweep or somethin’, since the ones they already have failed so badly.” She fidgeted at the idea of trying to make suggestions on things she didn’t know about. Whether she liked it or not, she’d found a soft spot for Trinity over the course of their short friendship and especially this strange event. She thought she mostly saw him as the guy she sent stupid jokes to because he had a legacy piece of tech from her mother, but circumstances like this often don’t leave much room for analysis until much later. She pressed on. “You could’ve died.”

His easy smile dropped, and he fixed her with an odd look. “You noticed that?”

She held her hand out, the bullet shining in her palm as she shook slightly. “I stopped the bullet myself.”

His eyes widened a fraction, before he could school his expression back to its resting state. His voice softened slightly, like he was trying to calm her. “Right, of course. You stopped it, of course you noticed.” He was clearly hiding something, but trying to keep her from worrying about it. She’d never be able to explain how she knew, she just did. Her dark eyes bored into his as she took the communicator out of her neck. Might as well let him know she’s not relying on the communicator to tell if he’s lying, present him an unspoken dare to tell the truth anyway.

“Trinity, what’d I miss?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back out of his eyes. “There was poison. Just in my food, one of the extra dishes they brought out, and I filtered it out just fine. It’s nothing to worry about. I even checked yours— it looks like they were only targeting me, and without much luck.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest, too. I’m used to this. Anyone in my position would have to be. I wouldn’t have a life if I dragged guards everywhere that someone might try to kill me. Hell, I’d have to take them to the bathroom.” His voice was incredibly calm and casual for someone talking about multiple, apparently regularly occurring, attempts on his life. She didn’t know she could want to shake someone so violently. He was technically right, there wasn’t much opportunity to do anything if you had people guarding you constantly. That didn’t mean she liked what that meant. She dropped the bullet into his lap, treating it carelessly for how much it clearly bothered her. She was no longer shaking, but something pulled at her heart, made her lungs feel strangled. She wasn’t angry, it was something else. She’d done it again. The stupid ship, it was making her even softer than she already was. She couldn’t leave this alone. It’d never sit right with her. Her teeth ground together as she compared her options. Her jaw tightened, a stubborn look giving her rounded face a harder edge.

“Let me come with again.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. She might regret the hell out of this. “It wasn’t so bad, and you can’t cover your face in kevlar. My brother could have made that shot with his eyes closed.”

He tilted his head at her, confused, and more than a little unsettled by the comment about her brother. Vigilante, fashion designer… sharpshooter? “I… are you sure? Of course you could come if you wanted, but this really only needed to be a one time thing. I’ve survived 22 years without you, I’ll be fine.”

“It’ll make me feel better.” Behind her eyes was a raw emotion he’d never seen before. She probably wasn’t aware it was there either, she did a piss poor job of hiding it. She really was a truly terrible liar. “And anyway, how’s it going to look to have a girlfriend one time and then not again? They’ll all talk and then it’ll be back to square one for you, and then we went through that whole thing for fuck all in payoff. Please, just...just one more time, at least. We had some fun, right? It might even be worth it, and it wasn’t so bad for me to be planetside for a night.”

He smiled at her, shaking his head slightly to concede defeat. “Ok, I yield. It was definitely better with you there. If you’re sure you want to, I’ll ask you next time an event comes up. Fair enough?”

She nodded curtly, the tight feeling in her chest subsiding with each subsequent breath. “Fine by me. Gets me off the ship.” A crooked, shaky smile.

“Sure. It was… nice to have you there, anyhow. Makes it more bearable when you have someone to make fun of the whole thing with.” He returned the smile, much calmer than hers, and reached out to give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Maybe it’ll be better next time, who knows?” His tone didn’t seem to hold out much hope for that.

She laughed, a little, but this one didn’t sound like it was even close to becoming a snort. “I’ve got to go, Crim’s got my dropship ready for me.”

The car started up, heading for the drop off point, where Trinity watched her walk back into her small ship the same way she’d exited earlier that evening, the sway of her hips a little more genuine and steady. A recurring date. This one was going to be a little harder to explain to his sister.

7. A Modicum Of Restraint

Azure glanced at her messaging screen. It had been a bit since she’d told Trinity she’d be more than happy to be his fake-date for another event or two. Mostly, she was worried about him and the apparently frequent attempts on his life. But, some small part of her, locked away with childhood toys and dreams of being a member of alien royalty, had a good time. Who would have thought? Maybe the thing she’d hated about fancy dinners as a kid had been the people and not the dinner itself.

[Azure] hey, am i tagging along for the next event, or did you decide to spring for those juice pouches instead?

Her own message glared at her. She wondered if maybe she should have just waited for him to text her. Maybe he didn’t have as much fun as you did. He said you only had to do this once, why are you asking for a second crack at it? You’ve said yourself you hate fancy parties.

She groaned and cursed herself for being so...herself. It wouldn’t be that hard to be a little more open about how worried she was, and besides, he had already told her the same night that he’d bring her again. But it had been some time and he had behaved just as usual, as though she hadn’t been there when he could have died. Twice. I’m going because he could have been seriously hurt if I hadn’t been there last time. I saw that fucking angle, there was no way he was coming out of it fine, I just need to go one more time to check. Somewhere in the back of her mind, an unfamiliar concern tried to rear its ugly head, but she ignored it in favor of stubbornly pressing the bullet issue instead.

Finally, while she stared tight-lipped at the screen, those little dots appeared.

[Hotshot] Right- if you still want to come I have your plus one paperwork all set. Is your brother making us match again?

Relief bubbled through her, a release of tension that started in her gut and ended in her jaw finally unclenching.

[Azure] I think it’s his favorite way to coordinate two pieces. What’s your favorite color? We’ll do that one.

[Hotshot] I don’t really have a favorite color? Guess I’ve never thought about it.

[Azure] ah, you’re too rich to see colors like us common folk, I see how it is hotshot.

[Hotshot] More like I wore shades of black and grey for a long enough time as a teen that I never picked one. What’s yours?

[Azure] What if I said I wanted to talk more about your emo phase instead? And not the reason I picked my name.

[Hotshot] So it just happened to be blue and you got lucky with the theme you all have going on?

[Azure] It happened to specifically be that shade of blue, and Crimson got really unlucky. Don’t change the subject, tell me about your Dark And Troubled Past.

[Hotshot] It’s just blue. There’s not that big of a difference between them.

After a moment there was a second message.

[Hotshot] And I will not be doing that. Suffice to say I had an eyepatch anyway so I figured I might as well lean into the look.

[Azure] I’d have gone for more of a pirate thing, really just go nuts.

Her bubble stayed for a few more moments.

[Azure] I’m sorry for asking, though. I forget that people off this gloomy piece of metal have tragic pasts they don’t want to talk about too.

She was being dramatic, but the apology was real.

[Hotshot] You don’t need to apologize, all you did was ask about my teen goth phase. A pirate phase would’ve definitely been more interesting. Anyway, do I have to pick a favorite color now so your brother can start working his magic?

He might have been deflecting a little, lightening the mood, but she wasn’t going to call him on it this time.

[Azure] It’s either you pick a favorite, or you have to get used to that boring champagne color in varying levels of opacity and form. If it was up to Crim I’d wear that dress and those heels every time I walked out anywhere more important than a grocery store.

[Hotshot] God forbid.

She could practically taste the sarcasm. This was a man whose version of casual was a button down and slacks, after all.

[Hotshot] Fine, I guess maybe some sort of blue or green? Let’s go with green since I guess you’ve got blue covered.

[Azure] Green. That’s a fun challenge, I think that technically clashes with my hair. He’ll love it.

She stretched a little as she typed up her next message, happy to finally have something to plan for.

[Azure] I’ll have it sent to you this time so that you won’t have to change in the car.

[Hotshot] I’ll look forward to it. And this time I’ll make sure you’ve got all the food rules memorized. We don’t need a repeat of the caviar incident.

[Azure] Listen, the bowl came with a spoon. I used the spoon on the contents of the bowl. What do you want from me.

[Hotshot] A modicum of restraint, perhaps?

[Azure] Trinity Jericho, you can’t ask me to rewire my whole brain like that. We’ve only just met.

[Hotshot] You rewire your brain every other day and message me about it. I have a picture of your nervous system from a week ago. It’s probably completely different by now. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I’m right.

[Azure] Incredibly rude of you. I have a doctorate. I needed that caviar for tongue science.

[Hotshot] Well I hope you’re happy with your scientific discovery that straight caviar is a crime against humanity and taste buds. Did you solve universal climate change with that data?

[Azure] No, but I did learn that your pointy fancy shoes really hurt when they connect squarely with my shin under the table. And that with an unwavering poker face, you can get at least three others to try anything. :)

[Hotshot] You’re lucky I like having you around. I can’t believe I agreed to this. I’m creating a monster.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #wip: babylon #chapter update #babylon #trinity

7 notes · View notes