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emotionallyattachednerd · 1 year ago

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Atoms Love ❙ TP Ratchet x f!robot reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 3000+ 😅

Warnings: Smut ( Touching, teasing and spike in valve ). NSFW 18+.

Notes: Been wanting to do one of Ratchet for a while now and was so thrilled to get this finished. I did change the title from the previews I had posted, I just felt this was more suited. Thanks anon for sending in this beauty, I had lots of fun with it. Sorry for the wait.

I'd like to add that when reader use to be Rachet's student she was of age, not underage. Just a simple rule that teachers shouldn't be involed with their students like in our world with collage/university. That's all. Hope you're all enjoy the sexy medic. 🥰

Your arrival on earth is greeted with a warm welcome from team prime. For so long you've been travelling planet to planet, searching for friends and perhaps a place to call home. While you didn't mind the ongoing travel at first, you were eager to settle for good. Earth was your next stop and you felt pretty lucky to find Optimus Prime and his team, but what got you even more excited was that Ratchet was there, your former teacher back on Cybertron way before the war started.

Through the coms of your ship you can hear the ecstasy from Ratchet, and you can't hold back your beaming smile hearing your favourite medic again after so long. Earth is to be your home now, that's what you decided. Sure, decepticons might've been hanging around but you could handle it. Your skills as a medic and through tinkering science will prove to be useful, all thanks to Ratchet who has taught everything he knew.

It's good to have Arcee around, you thought, so you weren't the only femme around, and she admitted that it's good to have another femme to join team prime. She is pretty cool, you thought, and such a skilled warrior. You two were going to get along.

The others were great as well, you even met these interesting humans they had around. Optimus expressed his appreciation to have you join them, and also added that Ratchet hadn't stopped talking about you since the comlink transmission. At first you were flattered, but hearing Ratchet fluster so quickly, struggling to explain himself did make your cheek plating heat up a little trying to hide your smile.

The moment was over, but Ratchet and you did spend a lot of time together, mostly talking about science and even doing small experiments of your own just for fun. The others saw all this but they didn't dare to say anything or interfere. Apparently Ratchet was pretty quick with his wrench if someone was to disturb him.

It's been a few weeks now since your arrival and it was going well. You feel settled and are surrounded by others who are almost like a family. You find yourself with Ratchet again, of course, you do spend a lot of time with him. Later that evening, you are both currently doing some tinkering and small experiments to pass the time together, measuring the right formulas and discussing the old times back on Cybertron.

"Oh but I'm serious. Out of all my students, you were one of the best. Someone with your intelligence deserved to be in the higher ranked classes, and I argued with those lug nuts in the higher grounds, but they didn't see what I saw." Ratchet goes on to say as you listen in.

"Well, it's a good thing that didn't happen, because I would've missed my favourite teacher. I only learned from the best, and it's because of you that I ended up here."

"Me? No, I'm sure there are other reasons." He tries to brush himself off but you shake your helm.

"There was much I believed from you, and I admired you, I still do, and I'm grateful I had a good teacher like you to help guide me through my younger learning time."

Meeting his gaze you saw him staring at you fondly as you return the same stare before he forces himself to break that small trance you thought you felt happening. It was quiet before you heard him vent out heavily and place his tinkering on the bench.

"May I make a confession to you, y/n?" His tone is deep, as if he's still wondering if he should keep talking to you about whatever is going on in his processor. "Just promise not to laugh."

"Of course you can. I've never made fun of you before, and I don't plan on it." You'll listen to him and hear what he has to say.

"Well, when you were my student, I did say a number of times how much I admired you and praised your skills, but what I never told you was that I admired you...affectionately."

This makes you stop what you're doing. He now had your full attention. "Putting it simple, you had a crush on me?"

Ratchet lets out a light hearty laugh but it's not because of what you said, but because of what he was confessing to you after all this time. "Yeah, that's putting it simple." Another vent leaves him, optics cast against the bench as he fiddles with the tinkers to try and avoid your own optics. You wonder if he is ashamed or embarrassed, but you want him to know that he doesn't need to be.

"How come you didn't say anything before?" You already knew the answer to that.

"Because I was your teacher and you were my student, it wouldn't have been right. You would've been kicked out and I would've been demoted from my position. So, I locked away those affections, and continued to be your teacher."

"That sounds sad. Doesn't sound like you wanted to do that, and you are making yourself sound like you haven't been happy for a long time."

"Oh I've been...content." He didn't sound very convincing to you. "Don't you worry, y/n. I might be older but that doesn't mean I haven't been happy. Regrets, yes, but that's only natural for anyone. I'm just pleased that you're here now, that's all that matters."

If only you knew, perhaps things might've been different.

To move on from it he tries to focus on his tinkering as you look down at your own a little, pondering your thoughts. Well, he did it first, you are only going to add more to this with no way out.

"I have a confession." He hears this from you as he locks his optics with your own. "When I was your student, I was...enamoured by you." You decide to use the fancy words like he does and look at the gadget in your servos a little, turning it for a better look and giving Ratchet the moment he needed to let this progress in him.

"You? I-I mean...you?" His confusion makes you feel a little amused. "How come you said nothing?"

"I was your student and you were my teacher, it would not have been right." You answer the same as his own. "Also, I did express my feelings, just not verbally."

"Well, you're going to have to explain that one to me, because I don't recall anything that gave me any signals that you felt like this towards me." He sounded a little miffed but not in a bad way, mostly with himself you think for not noticing.

"Those blue energon roses. One was left at your work station every week. They're hard to grow and need the right formulas for them to flourish which I did every week and presented to you. I never said they were from me but I watched from afar. You admired them."

"You?" He lays everything on the bench and leans himself against it as if his knees were growing weak. "Those were from you?"

"I learned from the best." You give a dainty smile. "You taught me how to grow them, and I wanted to express my gratitude and...affections, without either of us getting in trouble."

Perhaps if you both confessed your feelings for one another during those times, things might've been different. Sure, you might've been kicked out and he would've lost his position, but at least you would've had each other, right? That's the childish dream you had while being his student but you got over it, at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

"So, you felt the same way about me?" Ratchet wants to clarify once more from you. "Do those feelings still persist?"

"I did." You confirm. "And they do."

Its then you notice you're both holding a deep rooted stare. Blue optic illuminating together in a stronghold, one and the other silently screaming for the other to do or say something, quickly, before it escapes. Ratchet catches it just in time.

"What's stopping us now?"

"Nothing."

It all happens abruptly, one moment you and Ratchet were tinkering away with experiments and the next, you find yourself in his private quarters. There's a growing fever as you run your servos across his chassis, up over his shoulder pads as you feel his own servos smooth over your waist. His warm lips are across your own in a deep, slow passion, his glossa coils with your own while you welcome his touches and kisses through pure ecstasy and eagerness.

Ratchet calmly leads you towards his berth where he sits himself and you straddle his lap as you keep the kiss hot and lasting between you both. It's him that eventually breaks the kiss, touching your helms together as your heated vents hit against each other.

"Would you like to try out a new experiment?"

"I thought we already were." You can't help but giggle faintly, regarding the humid moment you are both currently sharing.

"Think of it as an add on to our current one."

"Why not? Tinkering with experiments is kind of our thing."

Ratchet lets out a light chuckle that you grew to love so rapidly.

"Turn around, and settle in my lap again."

Following his gentle command you do that, sitting back down and pressing your back against his chassis as you feel his servos calmly move across your waist, cascading down over your hips and across your thighs, letting them linger there while he feels you under his touch. You let out a placid vent, feeling relaxed and a small boiling of desire creeping its way through your frame. He then touches his wrist and you catch onto a device being activated in front of your both.

"A hologram mirror?" You smile warmly in amusement. "Is there a reason that it's set up right in front of your berth?"

"Perhaps I like to admire myself." There's a hint of playfulness in his voice making you giggle faintly in return.

"Well, you're quite the sight."

"You're a better looking sight."

Ratchet turns your helm a little so he can kiss you gently before resuming his actions, servos ghostly running on top of your tights and inwards, close to your warm panel. His chin rests against your shoulder as he looks at the mirror, as you lock your optics on it as well, watching what he is doing to you. To see everything is very arousing for you both.

You spread your legs to give him more access, hanging over each of his as you settle comfortably in his lap and rest yourself back against him, letting out silent heated vents that slowly boil more within you. Your waist wiggles, rubbing softly against Ratchet's panel causing him to let out a silky moan.

"Let's have a look at you. Retract your panel, please."

Without any pause you do this, revealing your already soaked valve for you both to see through the mirror. You can feel Ratchet quiver against your back as he stares, servos moving even closer to your valve.

"Stunning." He whispers into your audio. It's your turn to moan when he touches a digit against your moist lips and delicate node, exploring and teasing you for his own pleasure.

You watch as he uses a second digit to open your lips to explore you more, and uses another with his other servo to gently push into your valve. Instantly you clench around to invading digit, a feathered moan lingering from your vocals. You can't help but rock your hips gently, both of you watching as he plays with you. "Ratchet." His name sighs from you while your servos rest against both his thighs.

"You're a rare beauty, y/n. You were always my favourite student." His charming words causes you to smile shyly.

"As you were my favourite teacher." Next, you got cocky. "Is this what you always wanted to do to me?"

Ratchet is quiet, optics staring at what he's doing while playing with your valve, digit pumping into you slowly. His response is by adding a second digit to join the first, and his other servo circles around your node, causing you to gasp and back arch, feeling the new buzz suddenly electrocute through your frame.

"This, and much more."

You weep softly through the burning lust that drifts across your entire frame, hips swaying in sync with his servos and digits against your valve before moving your servo up to touch the side of Ratchet's face as a way to hold on and keep him close as possible. Your optics never leave the mirror, fascinated by the sight of yourself and Ratchet's skillful servos on you, knowing very well that he'll more than likely want to try out other things in the future. After all, nothing is holding either of you back anymore.

You hear a faint click and you see his throbbing spike emerge from it's housing between your legs. His girth size was rather impressive, thick and throbbing, canvas up perfectly as small drops of trans fluid leaks from his tip and runs down his length.

He catches you from the mirror staring at his spike making him chuckle lightly. "I'm not that impressive."

"Liar." You comment back before gently wrapping you servo around his spike, hearing him letting out a hitched vent at your warm touch as his optics shuttered a little. "You're beyond impressive. You're phenomenal." It's your turn to moan again as he rewards you with a third digit in your soaking valve.

"You're too kind to this old timer."

"You're my old timer." You notice his expression change a little, as if he is touched by your words before giving you a soft beam against your shoulder.

Your servo slowly starts to pump at his spike, feeling every ridge along the base and every twitch given from him, digit rubbing at his tip and back down to moist him all over. You kind of feel like you're going to need it. His servos are kept on your valve, digits pumping into your stretched depths while rubbing still slow at your node. He doesn't want you overloading just yet. With all this happening both your moans and heated vents surround you both, growing more hotter and eager for more.

"Ratchet, please, I need you inside me."

"Stand up." It seems you both have the same thoughts. Once his digits are gone from you, you stand up on weak legs just a little. Slowly, you lower yourself back down, watching the mirror as Ratchet holds himself in position before finding your mark.

Your mouth hangs open a little while watching yourself sink down onto his spike, taking his thick girth inch at a time while tossing your helm back against Ratchet's shoulder. You can hear his tense grunts as you clamp around him tightly, and let yourself sink fully into his lap again.

"Y/n..." He says your name, almost sounding desperate, like he was begging for something from you.

"Ratchet." You return the same as you give yourself a moment to adjust. "You feel so good."

Carefully, you start to move yourself, watching from the mirror as you see yourself moving along his spike entering your valve over again. His servo wraps around your front and comes to your node again, rubbing at you as he has a firm hold at your hip as you ride him. You're obsessed with the sight, and you know already you're going to want to use the hologram mirror again for yourselves.

Letting out heavy moans you grind down against Ratchet causing him to let out a surprised moan himself, holding a tighter hold as he presses his lips into your neck, glancing at the mirror whenever possible. You hold onto him as you ride his spike, letting out more blissful sounds that slowly grow more.

"Oh frag!" You curse out much louder, unable to hold it in.

"Such language doesn't suit you." Ratchet can't help himself, causing you to give a giggle through your moans.

"Then what suits me?"

"This."

He grabs hold of you tightly and thrusts his hips up against your movements at a rapid pace, causing you to let out a mewl. Looking at the mirror you are obsessed with the sight of you sitting against him, riding his spike, as he thrusts into you, causing the berth to start creaking under your harsh movements.

"Touch yourself."

You do that, using a free servo to bring down to yourself as you rub your node, digits skipping across the base of his moist spike as he enters you over again. Your thighs are spread wide, hanging across his own legs as you hump against his movements and moving in sync together. At this rate, you know you won't last too much longer.

Ratchet seems to read your mind. "Go on darling. Overload with me. Let yourself go."

That is all you needed to hear. Letting out a loud lingering mewl you fall apart and overload hard, watching yourself as your juices pool around the spike and under the both of you against the berth.

His heated vents against your shoulder turn into grunts before he lets out a harsher gnarl and you feel his warm trans fluids soak your depths. hips stilling, keeping inside you as you both sag against one another and the berth. With your optics still cascading at the mirror you are enjoying the sight while letting yourself vent and cool off as he did the same.

"That experiment was fun." You say through a giddy smile.

"Fun indeed. I have more ideas and experiments for us to try out for the future." The very thought makes you hum in delight.

"I look forward to all of them." You gently remove yourself from his spike and turn around, straddling him again and giving him a tender and loving kiss.

He kisses you back just as tenderly before your helms rest together.

"You think you can handle this old grumpy fool?"

"Absolutely." You answer while caressing his cheek plating.

"Fantastic."

There is nothing stopping either of you now.

Also, just to share because I can, this is the position that they had going. Let that invade your mind and consume your thoughts. 😍

#transformers #prime #ratchet #valveplug #ratchet x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #writing #smut #older mechs are always the best #ratchet has a thick spike and skillful servos #sugarrusheag

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64yrsold · 2 years ago

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sex

“I’m back!” I called, struggling to close the door with my arms full of groceries.

“I’m in here,” he replied weakly, and I dropped the bags to the ground. I skipped over to the living room, where he laid sprawled across the couch. His hand draped over his eyes, but he lifted his head to glimpse at me as I stood beside him.

“What’s happened to you?” I cooed, kneeling beside him.

“I’ve got a massive headache,” he grumbled, rubbing his head tenderly. He peered at me through one squinted eye. “Thanks for going out without me.”

“Oh, my angel,” I pouted, and he chuckled lightly, grimacing. “And you’re just sitting here with all the lights on?”

“Mhm.”

“Should I take care of you, honey?” I smiled, teasing. I pinched at his pale cheek.

“Please.” He kissed at the palm of my hand, groaning.

“Alright, let’s get up, please,” I stood, and he followed, head slumped forward and arm intertwined with mine. He shuffled behind me as we headed up the stairs, mumbling to himself with each step.

“Get into bed,” I told him, and he smirked.

“Don’t like that tone,” he huffed, “Usually you say that… More sexy-like…”

“Take that shirt off,” I beckoned for his t-shirt, and he obliged.

“That too.”

“Sex isn’t going to make your headache go away,” I said, and he frowned, crawling under the covers. I brought the blanket up to his neck, tucking it in around his shoulders.

“We could try,” he licked his bottom lip, “An experiment.”

“I don’t think so,” I laughed. I flicked off the bedside lamp, and fluffed the pillows behind his head.

“It would be scientific.” He managed a weak grin, eyes searching me expectantly.

“How about we try a different science experiment,” I offered, “Where you drink this glass of water, and we’ll see if it makes this headache go away.”

“That’s not nearly as fun as my idea,” His eyes closed tightly, and he sighed. I sat beside him on the bed, his hand reaching out of the blanket to rest on my thigh.

“Did you have any water today?”

“Yeah, loads.”

“Okay, so none,” I nodded, my fingers finding his temples. I rubbed slow circles into his skin, and he seemed to find some comfort in the gesture, his jaw relaxing and eyelids fluttering.

“I know you didn’t drink any water today,” he mumbled, earning a quiet gasp.

“And yet,” I tapped a finger to my forehead, “No headache.” He groaned at the absence of my fingers, his head lulling to the side. “Sorry, baby,” I sighed, returning to massage his head.

“Keep your hands on me,” he uttered, “It’s the only thing that’s eased the pain.”

“That must be mostly placebo,” I smiled, but kept my hands glued to his skin.

“Nothing about you is placebo,” he said, then paused, “Did that make sense?”

“Sort of.”

“Fuck. My head is swimming.” He scratched at the back of his head. I moved my fingers to the inner corners of his eyes, gently pressing the pad of my index to the delicate tissue.

“You ever done this?” I asked, circling my finger gently. He hummed quietly, taking a deep breath.

“That feels weird,” he thought for a moment, “But sort of nice.”

“I always do this when I get a headache. Feels nice.” I murmured, watching him closely. I pulled my hands away, and he pouted.

“You leaving?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, you need to sleep. You’ll feel better if you take a nap.”

“Stay,” he looked at me through his lashes, “I can’t sleep without you.”

I smoothed the blanket covering his chest, my hand rising and falling with his breath. I laid down beside him carefully, pulling him over me so he could rest his head against my chest. My hand lost itself in his hair, kneading at his scalp softly.

“Goodnight, baby,” I whispered.

“Feel better already,” he replied, kissing at my neck, “If you want to experiment.”

#ugh #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #64matty #matty healy x reader #Spotify

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fandomwe1rd0 · 3 months ago

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Sooooo I was searching up Rick and Morty Mary Sue, to see if anyone put Elle (Only one media outlet did if you're curious, and a quick lil fuck you for Elle ofc) anddddd I stumbled upon this article:

Now if you don't want to read this article, I wouldn't blame you, it's long and it is full of shit takes. But as someone who regretfully read all of it, I'll summarize the points and show why they suck, and I know the article was made 5 years ago so I shouldn't care about it, but also heyyyy shut up, AND also, I doubt anyone will, but please do not harass the person that made this article, I hate the article, not them as a person, also harassing people is just an asshole thing to do. So just leave them alone and we can point and laugh at this article, cool? Cool. Anyway let's get started!

"People who think Pickle Rick is the most original piece of humor ever created"

Basically this was them saying Pickle Rick wasn't funny. I…don't understand how this is a dig at the show. And this is coming from someone that didn't like the Pickle Rick episode and thinks it's overrated. But I can see that's not the only reason why people like that episode. They like it for the good animation, Dr. Wong, and the action.

2. "The never ending slew of toilet humor is just not necessary"

This is just them complaining about the toilet humor and saying it's not necessary. I…who's gonna tell them humor isn't necessary in general, and trust me, some shows have way more toilet humor than Rick and Morty, and as someone who doesn't find toilet humor funny, it never really grossed me out or bothered me with Rick and Morty. It doesn't show anything gross, it isn't too detailed with toilet humor, it's just dumb cheap humor, it's really not that deep, they also crank down on it with other seasons.

3. "People actually want to be Rick, and it's wrong on so many levels"

This is basically saying that dudebros idolize Rick, and that Rick is a Mary Sue

I'M SORRY WHAT!?

This is probably the worst take the article has. Rick is meant to be seen as an asshole, he's called an asshole and is called out multiple times, by a lot of people, Dr. Wong gave him a "reason why you suck" speech. Rick has multiple flaws, and he's not meant to be seen as sexy, RICK HIMSELF and some random lil guy refer to Rick as ugly, he's not meant to be a good character. Rick is competent at science and is strong, but he gets his ass beat multiple times, and literally DIED in Unmortricken, he does come back, ofc he does, but my point still stands. He has character development, but that doesn't make him a Mary Sue?!

Also you're not SUPPOSED to idolize Rick. Yes some fans certainly do, but the show consistently shows you that he is miserable and is not okay in general, yes some far idolize him, but that's not the shows fault, also this show is meant for ADULTS, which means they don't have to have a good person as their protagonist, especially if they aren't mean to be a role model, and as long as the show doesn't glorify it, it's not their fault. Adults should be smart enough to not over idolize characters from tv shows anyways. Rick is a heavily traumatized person that the show doesn't glorify, so it's not the show's fault if people glorify him, and he definitely isn't a Mary Sue.

Also I should mention that Memory Rick, was horrified that he was eventually going to become Rick, and even called Rick his "all too real cautionary tale from the future" Rick isn't meant to be a good person or meant to be idolized. The person that wrote this article needs media literacy.

4. "Morty is genuinely a pointless character"

The summary is basically what the caption says. They call Morty pointless, saying he doesn't do anything. They DID NOT just say that about my boy. Morty is anything but pointless, he creates the conflict for some episode (Mortynight Run, Rattlesnake Ricklatica, That's Amorte), solves the conflict in some episodes (Total Rickall, These Ricks must be Crazy, Get Schwifty), and has episodes that develop him as a character (Look Who's Purging Now, The Rickshank Rickdemption, Fear No Mort, ESPICALLY Fear No Mort) he is far from a useless character, and aside from his trauma not being explored as much as it should, is a pretty good example of a male abuse victim, and is meant to show what happens when someone spends too much time with Rick, he is NOT useless, I do not know what you are smoking, what is it and can I have some? Rick wants some too.

5. "It's not diverse in any way"

Now this is one of the few I can actually understand…except for uhm…one tiny flaw.

The main character is Depressed, Hispanic, Pansexual, and Autistic. And the rest of the family besides maybe Morty are Bisexual, sooooo uhm…

6. "It thinks it's the most intelligent show ever created"

This point is basically saying it has plot holes, tries and fails to outsmart fans, and fans have to spend hours creating fan theories to make sense of the show's plot.

Now, I'm not the best person to talk about plot holes in stories, but the plot always makes sense to me, even after I rewatched it so…so many times. And I never see all too many plot holes, the only one I can really think of is how Rick alternated the memory of his backstory, but the plot episodes always makes sense, and are generally my favorite episodes. And specifically Rick's backstory, makes a lot of Rick's actions make sense, and has a good amount of foreshadowing beforehand.

They also said at the end (It wasn't a point so I'm not listing it as one) that Rick and Morty just has characters that are a bundle of toilet humor and dialogue that could've been written on someone's first acid trip and…huh?

The characters feel very relatable, real, and human. Morty is someone I relate to a lot, and he feels very real, like I could see meeting someone like him in real life, and Rick, despite being a literal sci-fi scientist, feels very real, and I even relate to him which uhm…I shouldn't. Even the characters I don't personally relate to like Summer, Beth, and Jerry, still feel grounded and real in a way, so…yeah.

Overall this article is harmless, it just has some really trashy takes, but again do not harass the person who made this article, it's not their fault their stupid and not smart enough to understand the genius of Rick and Morty…I'M JOKING! But yeah, please do not read this article, and just I dunno go outside and touch grass or smth. Also DON'T watch Big Mouth (This article thinks you should) anyways Byeeeeeeee!

#rick #and #morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick and morty #rick c137 #Jerry Smith #Beth Smith #Summer Smith #Fuck Elle

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wherewhereare · 1 year ago

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@formerdetective 's View on the TIWTTFL bonus songs “Obsessed,” “Getting Warmer,” and “Splash” as a Trilogy (Part 3 of 3 parts)

1.1.1 Splash (Part 3 of a 3 part trilogy)

Credit: @formerdective. Direct extract from her blog. Everything is [sic]

So my interpretation of the song comes in the context of all the other things we know. Splash was July, then I’m pretty sure Getting Warmer was in early September, and then Make Me Like You, Misery were September 22 & 23, and Truth was October 23. Also in mid and late September, Blake and Gwen both said some pretty cool/magical things were happening in their lives during interviews.

So anyway that’s kind of where I’m coming from with this analysis. To me, the emotional vibe is the most like Getting Warmer. I recommend listening to that right before this for more of Gwen’s mental state. BTW oh my God this is so long because this song is soooo heavy. so be prepared.

Splash

I’m awakening like a rosebud flowering

So, I have no idea if Gwen meant to be this deep or if she just described what she felt like, but I was getting some like, modern art symbolism vibes so I googled rose bud flowering, and this came up:

Rose Bud Flower Meaning… The Rosebud means anticipation and the opening of the heart and spirit to treasured dreams and fulfillment of desires. Rosebuds are also a symbol of new love and an invitation to friendship, courting and romance. Rosebud flower is in harmony with the heart of chakra.

This is exactly what I think this song is about. And remember what Gwen said on Facebook, that it was a cleansing song, and she did a lot of soul searching while listening to it and when she got back from Montana (and listening to it for her whole vacation) “her life changed forever.”

I think the whole song is about how she’s really healed enough that now she’s thinking more about the excitement of Blake and a new relationship than all the anger she was feeling before. In other words, she was ready to take a chance and be with him.

Look at me, I’m turning on, busting like a neon

Just like flowering, she’s turning on… she’s ready. And busting like a neon, well, that’s just a blatant reference to her fave Blake Shelton song.

Flickering on again, lightning in the dark

Her interest in romance and any kind of sexual relationship had been gone for a long time…like longer than just the few months since her separation, I think it’s safe to assume. But now she’s starting to come back to life “flickering on again” means maybe she’s not TOTALLY there but it’s happening. Same with flowering above, actually, she’s not completely blossomed but she’s getting there.

And I love “lightning in the dark” because literally he was this burst of light in her darkest time.

You’re helping me forget/What is this?

She literally was not expecting him at all and is completely blindsided by the fact that she’s gone from being at her absolute worst, emotionally/mentally, to falling in love all of a sudden. like literally what is this?

Gonna break out my cocoon

And as a result, he’s helping her come out of her shell and become the person she wants to be instead of the ghost-like person she had been feeling like for such a long time (again longer than just her separation). And not just him, but songwriting and the voice and plenty of things, this was SO important for her. She referenced it so many times and even named her LLC this. That’s how important it was to her that she was finally coming back to life. And understandably. ugh. my baby.

I’m gonna take a risk, skinny dip

So, I can’t decide if this is an allusion to something that actually happened or they talked about, or it’s just an example of something that’s both sexy and risky. Or maybe he goes along with the water theme…that maybe is it. She’s diving in in the most vulnerable way possible (naked).

Cause I see you’re on the loose

So, it’s no secret one of my favorite things in Shefani Science is their obvious crushes on each other in season 7. They have always been drawn to each other and enamored with each other, and Gwen especially has always seemed quite taken with him.

So just imagine. This guy you’ve always had feelings for, like maybe innocent jr. high style ones, Maybe “sigh if only” ones, maybe “wow I like him so much” ones, who knows but whichever, you had feelings for this guy, and you kind of felt like he was into you too, but regardless nothing was ever gonna happen because for better or (literally) for worse, you were both unavailable. And then all of a sudden you find out this guy is not only going through exactly what you went through, so you have tons in common and are bonding even more than before, but that shared experience means he is available.

He’s not married anymore, which means if she wants to take a chance with him, she has the opportunity to do that. He’s there, he’s willing, it’s up to her to take the chance.

Gonna lasso you, gonna lasso you

And that’s what she wants to do. I love love love this cowboy reference so much, in case there was any question about who she was singing about. She’s gonna snatch him and pull him into her. Hot.

Gonna get some pleasure, together

This one is probably self-explanatory… but also in addition to being like… sexy fun times pleasure, the together is important. It’s not like Gwen is looking for someone to take her mind off things. Blake accidentally took her mind off things because he’s what she’s thinking about now. In Obsessed she refers to him as a distraction, but she’s really trying to convince herself that’s what’s up. And now she’s accepting that’s not what this is. It’s a real thing.

Must be a sign/All the energy’s pulling me right back to you

So, I’m not positive when she wrote this, but it has to have been sometime in July… my guess is the back half of July. And up until that point, they’ve been spending a bunch of time together. I personally think they’ve already made out, maybe done some heavy petting or whatever… (because of obsessed and CHTF) and now she wants more. There’s some kind of cosmic, magnetic energy that’s telling her she belongs with him, she can’t get enough of him, she wants to be with him (both literally and figuratively). It’s not just a fun distraction… the universe or at least her brain is telling her to keep up what they’re doing.

Tonight, gonna bottle you up and wear it like perfume

So now she’s ready. She wants him with her from now on. And she wants him to be close to her, like perfume is something that you absorb through your skin and then it lingers. That’s what she wants from him. She wants him to stay. And I think there’s some sexual implications as well. She wants him on her skin.

Alright, we going in, it’s what we’re supposed to do/ Tonight, open wide

Open wide could mean a bunch of different things. Open wide, like here I come or open wide like give yourself to me…like open arms. And open wide like, again…let’s go for it!

Splash, I’m diving in/Diving in, I’m diving in

So, she’s going for it. She’s not wading in, testing the waters anymore, she’s just gonna take a chance and do it. Headfirst. She’s going for it. And it doesn’t even have to be pretty. She expects the “splash”, you know? But she’s ready to move on.

I think the whole skinny dip, splash, diving…all this aquatic symbolism is important because it’s cleansing. Kind of like baptism, water has always had that feeling of rebirth. Starting fresh. And she’s ready to get going with cleansing herself of the old mess and starting fresh with something new, because that’s “what she’s supposed to do.” Literally she feels like it is not even really a choice, it’s what’s happening.

I’m re-surfacing, a brand new oxygen/Look at me, I’m letting go

And then when she dives in, she’ll come up and the air is fresher. Diving in with Blake is going to be so good for her not only because she likes him so much but also because it’s time to move on.

A rising Kundalini

So, Kundalini, in this context, is referring to a coiled energy that lies dormant at your base, beneath the root chakra (the trust chakra, FYI). Kundalini is released during a really intense event (often associated with sex but not necessary) and when it rises it travels up through all the chakras (they run along the central nervous system, basically) and when it is risen your kundalini awakens and you reach full enlightenment. It’s an incredibly spiritual experience, that sort of helps bond you with the universe. Basically, this line is super intense. She feels like Blake and her have something literally spiritual.

I’m breathing you, breathing me

This is about togetherness, I think, and it goes along with the idea of yoga/meditation/kundalini. But breathing is crucial you know? And also, basic. He’s a part of her now.

Going with the flow

Another water reference. This is natural, what’s happening between them. It’s supposed to happen and she’s rolling with it.

Damn anon I did not mean to get this intense but that’s how we do…

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crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

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banging my fists on the table, peeling the paint off of the walls, shattering concrete… you are so real for that full dragon zhongli fic. morally dubious my cock and balls it’s hot and sexy!!! all of my knowledge on reptilian dicks comes from friends with science majors and degrees who have been victim to my monsterfucking rants. anyways…

first, science and math: functioning under the assumption that zhongli is naturally hung, at a reasonable 9 inches, we can extrapolate the size of rex lapis’ cocks based on the size and mass of the exuvia. i’ll save you all of the details but this means both of rex lapis’ cocks, according to the exuvia, sit at a healthy ☆*: 39.5inches :*☆!!! how fun!!! truly a pair of gut destroyers.

the fun stuff: his cocks have wonderful texture to them. ridges galore, even!!! physiologically it’s unreasonable, and fatal, for any human to take two nearly 40 inch dicks but how can you possibly mind when what can fit is so damn good??? two fat heavy cocks ready to serve!!! full of eggs, let him dump them in you.

LMAOOOOOO thank you!! you are right and you should say it it is hot and sexy hehehe sasdfbnjlks true friendship is ranting about your weird monsterfucking tendencies to your friends amen

that said now-

where are you getting these measurements ma'am omg

unpopular opinion (?) but I don't really like it when ppl add straight up "measurements" into smut, not only bc they tend to be wildly unrealistic (yes yes, says the person writing about dragon dick I'm aware) but also because... I just find it unsexy? lmaoooo I like to leave things up to the reader's imagination and interpretation and as someone who uses metric system idek how many is "x inches" at any given time and it just makes me want to search for a ruler //HIT

I do also love to think Zhongli is hung sure sure -w- big ehehe but 9-12 inches is not reasonable HAHAHAHA omg bye

now as for the dragon thing...

I live and breathe by the headcanon that Zhongli can shapeshift yes, and that includes the size of the Exuvia's vessel because we have, in fact, already SEEN the Exuvia in different sizes

those two dragons are most definitely NOT the same size

sorry how did the Qixing not notice? 🤣🤣🤣

this is more fuckable size, I think//hit Probs same model as the one at the rite

anyway lmaoooo why did I go so deep into this pls don't get upset or anything It's all in light fun I swear <3 but I will stand my ground that he can change size I kinda jump back and forth with different ideas about his dragon form yes yes

BUT YEAH I LIVE FOR THEM RIDGES AND TEXTURE HMMMMM massaging and pushing/pulling at your insides ehe yessss two fat heavy dragon cocks yesssssssssss eggs and lots and lots of cum <3

#god this post is a downhill #of insanity #I might regret it later and delete/edit idk #right now I'm #xdfcvgbhjmlk #head empty only Zhongli #crys answers #PLS DON'T GET UPSET OR SMTH YOUR ASK WAS SO FUN #omg

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a-menaceinpink · 1 year ago

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i literally just finished reading ta6 so i have a lot of thoughts about it, in no particular order:

Callum irritates me. he's portraying himself as a cackling supervillain and yet rarely if ever does cackling supervillain things. mostly he just complains about everyone being too boring for him to bother with (meanwhile he's a white south african heir of greek royalty ... sir your inner monologue is classist in the extreme)

Tristan also irritates me, but for different reasons. he's incredibly whiny. and not like sopping wet pathetic little meow meow like just whiny and pathetic. complains about not knowing about himself or his powers but never does anything about it or searches for answers. no spine. refuses to give even a hint of a tragic backstory.

Reina my aroace queen <333 she was so undeveloped here it's insane but EYE saw her crazy powerful abilities and burgeoning god complex. EYE love her. everybody who didn't, skill issue. wish she had more screentime but i do remember liking her plot in the next one. also the plant monologue to her is really fun bc i too would be crazyyyyyy annoyed by that

Nico straightforward king. liked him less this time around than the last time but i think its bc he has less like. depth? mystery? than some of the others. sweet charming king tho, i love him and gideon

Parisa oh my god. oh my GOD. do i want to be her or be with her. unclear. both. she could kill me and i'd thank her. telepath, ruthless, ambitious, manipulative. what's not to love (except for her fixation on dalton like .. girl get up you can do better than this i know his mind is a puzzle but still :/)

i love libby (maybe a little too much, rip me) and i wish yall would stop talking ab her damn hair is NOT that big of a deal!! get a life!! don't yall have murder to be worried about, why are you so worried that libby likes to ask questions!!

this is very much a character-driven book. it runs on vibes and sexiness alone (i'm being so serious here). if you like a plot-driven book, now is the time to bow out because it only gets worse

the science in this book is kind of fun but very fantasy, if you catch my drift. very much, using science principles in the service of explaining the magic system (which is still very... undefined? world-building could use some work tbh)

ultimately, i am seeing how this book both did and didn't set itseulf up for success in the second book. it has a good cliffhanger, it introduces a unique setting and unique, fleshed out characters, but it fails to introduce an overarching plot problem. something that warrants this being a trilogy and not just a magical murder mystery.

it's also incredibly up its own ass about EVERYTHING so if you're really anti-pretentious writing you will dislike this book

and again, this is just the story of a love-hate platonic-romantic queer polycule that may or may not kill each other. and the book rides off that pretty heavily

#the atlas six #tas #i want to be clear i LIKED this book i LIKE morally gray characters #i just don't think that it's necessarily set up well for a trilogy #duology might be better #or even a standalone #libby rhodes #nico de varona #parisa kamali #reina mori #tristan caine #callum nova

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accidentalspaceexplorer · 1 year ago

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2023 Book Reviews: Science Fiction, Part 1

Third round-up of books I've read this year! This time we're diving into sci-fi, with again a pretty mixed bag (although I loved The Kaiju Preservation Society!)

1. In the Quick by Kate Hope Day: 3/5

Pitch: philosophical SF; girl searches for a missing space ship crew with her uncle's former student

Review: This was recommended to me by the Storygraph algorithm, and it sounded really good! Unfortunately I liked the beginning part of this book more than I liked the end, and two weeks later most of my thoughts were confusion about why the relationships were handled the way they were, and I'd forgotten most of the rest of it. Not a hit, but it had its moments. (Current me stepping in to say that I've almost completely forgotten this now, to the extent that I have no idea what I liked about the beginning anymore...)

2. The Million by Karl Schroeder: 3/5

Pitch: a million people take care of Earth so that every thirty years the other ten billion humans can wake up & party; definitely-not-supposed-to-be-there teen has to solve his "father's" murder without revealing his identity

Review: This was interesting, but it didn't end up being more than that for me. Although I found the concept interesting, I found the ending felt very rushed, and the big character decision didn't feel like it made sense emotionally or that there was enough textual basis to set up it being necessary.

3. The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi: 4.5/5

Pitch: guy looking for a new job ends up signing up to protect kaiju on an alternate-Earth

Review: In his author's note, Scalzi describes this book as a pop song - catchy and fun - and I'd definitely say that's an apt comparison! I had a great time with this, loved reading it, but I doubt it'll stay with me for a long time. I'm likely to recommend it though on the strength of the worldbuilding and fun science shenanigans!

4. Tell the Machine Goodnight by Katie Williams: 2/5

Pitch: quick fix machine can tell you what you need to be happy - but can it really???

Review: Once again, proof that my taste in books in 2018 is not up to snuff anymore. I had moved this up to the top of my TBR in 2018 and never made it to it, and I finally got around to it, only to be disappointed. This didn't feel profound, just stupid, and while there were a few storylines I enjoyed, there were a lot that I didn't care about or that actively annoyed me. I'm sure the ending for Pearl is supposed to be profound somehow, that everything in this book is supposed to be a meaningful discussion of capitalism or the alienation of man or something but honestly I just couldn't care less. Not my kind of book

5. You Sexy Thing by Cat Rambo: 4/5

Pitch: retired Admiral in sketchy galactic empire just wants to run a restaurant and stay retired, but ends up running for her life again

Review: It's got a fabulous concept, and this was definitely fun - I liked a lot of the characters in this, and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens down the line for them. However, the constantly bouncing perspectives didn't work well for me, and I was clearly supposed to feel more about some of the events of the book than I did, probably because I wasn't attached to the characters as much as I was supposed to. Ultimately, this was fun and I'll definitely read the sequel, but it also isn't a new favorite.

#book review #roundup reviews #2023 reviews #sf reviews

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idrils · 1 year ago

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kip thorne concepted interstellar in the first place (with producer friend lynda obst)!! he not only ensured it was hard science, the movie wouldn't exist without him!

and a lot of these tantrums that nolan threw ended with a compromise - he would say okay, so that's impossible. FIND ME a set of circumstances in which this would be reasonable - it's a bit like the mythbusters procedure. first, we find out if it works. if we didn't get the results we were looking for, we experiment to figure out HOW to get those results. this is how we got the wobbly football shaped planet with the forty-foot high waves

nolan needed the crew to land on a planet with 60,000x time dilation (7 years on earth = 1 hour on "miller's planet"), so that coop's daughter would grow to adulthood in a relatively (ha) short time, for drama and plot

for this enormous time dilation to be possible, miller's planet needs to be perilously close to the black hole gargantua - close enough that the tidal gravitational forces should tear the planet apart. instead, the planet sits JUST on the edge of that peril, close enough that instead of being ripped asunder, the tidal forces of gargantua's gravity deform the planet instead

(image description: figure 17.3 from kip thorne's book the science of interstellar. the image shows an incredibly oblong blue planet, twice as tall as it is wide. arrows push inwards on the skinny sides, and outwards on the long sides, representing the force of the black hole's gravity. end ID)

the planet is tidally locked to gargantua (meaning the same part of the planet always faces the black hole, like earth's moon does to earth), because if it rotated, the deformation would constantly shift, pulverizing the mantle and making the planet red hot - instead of the sexy tall waves nolan wanted for the movie. so, to make the tall waves work, kip thorne said well. i guess the bastard's tidally locked! ALMOST:

(Image description: another excerpt from the science of interstellar. the heading reads "Giant Waves on Miller's Planet." the text reads:

What could possibly produce the two gigantic water waves, 1.2 kilometers high, that bear down on the Ranger as it rests on Miller’s planet (Figure 17.5)?

I searched for a while, did various calculations with the laws of physics, and found two possible answers for my science interpretation of the movie. Both answers require that the planet be not quite locked to Gargantua. Instead it must rock back and forth relative to Gargantua by a small amount, from the orientation on the left of Figure 17.6, to that on the right, then back to the left, and so on." end ID)

kip thorne experimented with the wiggliness of the planet and did all his calculations and computations to determine the amount of Wiggle he could give miller's planet without pulverizing the mantle. "When I computed the period of this rocking, how long it takes to swing from left to right and back again, I got a joyous answer. About an hour. The same as the observed time between giant waves, a time chosen by Chris without knowing about my science interpretation."

sometimes, there was beautiful happenstance like that. other times like OP mentioned, kip thorne had to really dig his feet in about FTL travel being impossible

ty for allowing me to geek so thoroughly out about this, i absolutely LOVE the book the science of interstellar and how accessible it makes really extremely complicated scientific topics!! if you liked interstellar and science communication i absolutely recommend it

I do give almost all the credit for my love of Interstellar to theoretical physicist Kip Thorne who bullied Nolan at every turn into keeping the science as realistic as possible even when Nolan threw tantrums abt it because he wanted to sacrifice what was plausible for what was exciting and Kip Thorne just kept being like sorry is the theoretical capabilities of spacetime travel not exciting enough for you? Grow up.

#danger thighs #it's SUCH a good read #science communication on par with carl sagan imo #which is funny bc carl sagan is the one who set kip thorne up with lynda obst in the FIRST place #from gravitational time dilation to the biology of crop blight to the theoretical rules governing higher dimensions #it's all so interesting and well written!!!

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pexchys · 5 months ago

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(PART ONE: PROLOGUE)

A/N---Hi! I have been working on a novel idea for over 7 years now, and I am so excited to finally share it (and actually write it instead of scrapping everything I write) with some people. I've been wanting to write a fantasy, eldrith-esque novel (with dragons, tension, sexy tension ayoo, divinity and science, a magician, princess, and army general) but I have absolutely no idea how to go about sharing it with the world, but if this sounds like something you'd be interested in reading, please support it! These might change, and I have yet to decide on the title of the book because it changes so much, but I would love to hear some thoughts. I am also still getting used to writing on Tumblr. This is the prologue and really the beginning of this writing journey, and I really hope you enjoy it!!

PROLOGUE

Something was in the woods. Watching. Festering. The multiple eyes peered through the leaves, vivid against the unnaturally dark green lush that spread all around it. And then the hunt began.

She was the happiest person in the world. She was the most horrible person in the world. She was everything and nothing all at once.

She had ran, before. The sun had long set, the cool wind beating against her face as she spat out blood that glistened her teeth while her legs ached and her heart pounded. The moon did not grace her with light— faster, faster she ran through the heavy mist that seemingly penetrated right through her lungs. The mist that only could be a blessing and a curse from something older than her gods, before the cosmos birthed and gave way to the lands, before those lands bore witness to the sun’s palest rays, the lazy way the gods but not gods but something older sipped the winds with eyes— those horrible eyes— that glared down at her.

She had shaken the flowers out of her hair; the same ones he put so tenderly, so lovingly, ha! ha! ha! and crushed it between her frayed fingers. The feeling of freedom, the vertigo that comes with it, the only way she tumbled down since he had torn her wings off and left it hanging. She had searched through the forest, her shaking hands wrenching vine after vine, the world so silent and so noisy and the crickets and the cicadas singing their awful, dizzying song that made her sick with the desperate hope of finding him and tearing him to pieces. But first, she would run.

She paused. She felt him. The sickeningly sweet smell that nearly knocked her off her feet. Her lips cracked into a feral smile.

She woke up, her hands pressed against the cool stone. She raised her head to the barred windows, the moon sitting quietly in the distance. He was coming. The Other. The god but not a god but something older.

She pressed her knees close to her chest and waited.

#novel #novel writing #writing #author #female writers #writerscommunity #writeblr #creative writing #fantasy books #eldritch #fantasy #romance #when the flies fell✧‧₊˚ 🍵⋅

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international-intelligence-inc · 1 year ago

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Twenty Year Veteran, Gholamali Khooshroo, Iranian Ambassador to United Nations in (NYC) Confesses Amazing Revelations To Me While WE Studied Together in NYC Over Two Year About NUKING THE UK AND USA! WOW JOE BIDEN "DUDE."

SICILY JOHN!

BYE BYE BABY!

Meetings Coverage and Press Releases

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Home Secretary-General General Assembly Security Council Economic and Social Council International Court of Justice

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE BIO/4694 17 FEBRUARY 2015

New Permanent Representative of Iran Presents Credentials

Golamali, always told me to call him "AMIR." IRAN IS MY "FRIEND AND CLOSEST ALLY WHO HELPED ME WHEN NOT EVEN THE USA OR MY "FAMILY." WHEN THE NEW SCHOOL FOR SOCIAL RESEARCH THREW ME OUT FOR MY ANTI BILL CLINTON POLITICAL OPINIONS, IRAN, AND THAT COUNTRY VIA "GOLAMALI," WROTE A LETTER TO ME TO GET INTO FAIRLIEGH DICKINSON UNIVERSITY WHERE THE AMBASSADOR'S BUDDY RAN THE ENTIRE POLITICAL SCIENCE DEPT. THERE AT FDU. Golamali, lived in, Hackensack, NJ, himself then.

Too bad for the, CIA, they can not "communicate with Iran," and never thought I was "good enough," to "negotiate with Iran for them lol CIA." You need someone like me.

Golamali Khoshroo, confessed to me privately as far back as 1999, Iran is just "itching to nuke not , Israel, first! ((SURPRISE JOE BIDEN AND NID AVRIL HAINES HA HA HA! JILL L STARR GETS THE NEWS FIRST ON YOU UK USA AND APPARENTLY IT IS ALSO CANADA THE NUMBER THREE FIRST COUNTRIES TO "GET NUKED FIRST BY "IRAN."

HIS EXCELLENCY -> MR, GOLAMALI, HAS GOOD REASONS' TO NUKE U SA UK T HEN CANADA! I "VOUGE FOR IRAN NOT, YOU CIA!" I AM BEING "OBJECTIVE , AVRIL HAINES."

AND WATCH IT "VATICAN!!" APPARENTLY, YOU NEVER REPAID IRAN BACK FOR THE CRUCADES ANY MORE THAN ISRAEL AND UK USA AND THE VATICAN EVER PAID ANY WWII "JEWS," BACK FOR WII THAN THE "VATICAN," DID THE "CRUSCADES.

IRAN TELLS ME "THE VATICAN IS GONNA GET BOMBED AND THE POPE KILLED TOO SETTLE THE CRUCADES / PALESTINIAN SCORE!"

OH! THAN.."IRAN, INFORMS ME, "NEXT EVERY SECULAR NATO STATE NOT HAVING A STATE RELIGION LIKE , RUSSIA, GREECE ETC., AN ORTHODOX CHRISTIAN ONE , LIKE I DO (RUSSIAN AMERICAN) HAVE TO BE NUKED NEXT AND EVERY SINGLE STATE AND ROMAN CATHOLIC MUST BE EXTERMINATED!"

OH ! " AND PUTIN HAS BEEN ARMING IRAN WITH THE LARGEST NUKES IN OVER 40 YEARS NOW KNOW THAT IS A FACT CIA! SO SORRY.

THINK YOU CAN DO IT WITHOUT JILL STARR JOE BIDEN AND CIA MI6 DO IT! BYE BYE.

I HATE TO GIVE" YOU THE DISAPPOINTING NEWS GERMAN AMBASSADOR IN NYC!

BUT GERMANY/ANGELA MERKEL -> WE BOTH UNDERSTAND DIPLOMACY IS RECIPROCOL.

WHILE "IRAN IS AT IT! I HEARD THRU THE GRAPEVINE,THE,NETHERLANDS HAS A .. ROMAN CATHOLIC ROYAL FA MILY, SERGE BRAMMERTZ? HA HA HA I GUESS YOU . HAVE TO GO TO BARON VON BRAMMERTZ IF IT S TRUE YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN DUDE!

SEXY JILL SHOOTER IN THE HEAD DADDY SAYS!" "ANGELA MERKEL, GENIUS CHEMIST, FORMER FRIEND OF MY FORMER DECEASED FIANCEE ,ARNOLD STARK, FROM, MAPLEWOOD, KNEW YOU ! ANYWAY THE POINT HERE, GERMANY, IS, "WHEN I CALLED YOU UP FOR THAT UNITED NATIONS CLERK POSITION A FEW YEARS BACK FROM CLIFTON, THE , GERMAN AMBASSADOR, CALLED MEME BACK IN CLIFTON NJ IN 5 MINUTES AFTER I SUBMITTED MY CLERK UN GERMANY POSITION.

HE "GAVE ME, JILLY, THE DISAPPOINTING NEWS, I, JILL STARR, WILL NEVER WORK FOR THE UNITED NATIONS IN NYC EVER AGAIN BECAUSE, ANGELA MERKEL, GERMANY, BLAMES ME FOR NOT TACKLING ALL THREE WANTED SERBIAN WAR CRIMINALS in 2002 IN SERBIA AND FLYING THEM TO THE HAGUE WAR CRIMES COURT FOR TRIAL ON MY IMAGINARY PRIVATE JET!" SCREW YOU MERKEL BITCH!" AND GERMAN AMBASSADOR, SAYS, I OWE , GERMANY , BILLIONS OF GERMAN MARKS TO REPAY HIS GERMANY! WE ARE " A BAD FIT!" HA HA

" PERSONALLY, IA M ON< SERBIA'S SIDE AND THE JEWISH SIDE I AM FIRST AND FOREMOST JEWISH HA HA HA AND I AM NOT A SPY AND TO PROVE IT, I WILL TRAVEL TO SPEAK TO GOLAMALI ABOUT ALL THIS IN IRAN TOMORROW CIA TO TEACH YOU A LESSON AND IF >>GERMANY, VATICAN AND CROATIA AND ITALY (SICILY) GOES TOMORROW, FOR WWII REPARATIONS TO "US ALL AND AND HAVE TO GO FIRST, ASK ME AND SERBIA IF WE REALLY GIVE A DAMN "FRANKLY WE DONE CARE ALL THAT MUCH!." YOU KNOW, MILOS DJUKANOVIC, WANTS TO EXPAND HIS EMPIRE, BUDVA, ACROSS THAT, ADRIATIC HUDSON, INTO SICILY! HA HA HA!

AND, " I HATE TO GIVE THE , SICILIAN/ROMAN CATHOLIC PRINCESS, IN, SICILY, AND, ALL YOU ABUSIVE/DAMN ROMAN CATHOLICS LIKE "JOHN ON HARDING AVENUE AROUND HERE ABUSING ME....TISK TISK TISK, YOUR DAMNING OWN BAD NEWS NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR FULL ATTENTION, GET THIS LA COSA NOSTRA TYPES-> "ONCE AND IF IRAN BLOWS UP AND GIVES ALL YOU MOTHER *UCKERS SOME , HEZBOLLAH HELL, MAYBE YOU WILL LEAVE ME ALONE, HARRY J SHORTWAY! YOU WILL WHEN YOU ARE NOT A ROUND! LOL

AS "FURTHER EVIDENCE THIS IS REALLY THE "POSSIBLE DEMISE OF SICILY, GET THIS> ...PUTIN HAS HYPERSONIC NUKES RIGHT N BELGRADE IN TOPCIDER REPUBLIKA SRPSKA, N, BOSNIA, AND PROBABLY MONTENGRO AND TO DO WHAT ? TO TAKE OUT NEW YORK CITY AT HYPERSONIC, VLADIMIR PUTIN SPEED SURPRISE CIA! JOE BIDEN.

" ALLOW ME TO GIVE NATO ITS' BAD NEWS TODAY AND GERMANY HA HA HA YOU HAVE PUTINS' LARGEST NUKES AIMED AND ALL READY TO TAKE YO UALL OUT SECULAR STATES' IN BEOGRAD AND I AM NOT HELPING YOU I KNOW THING BUT SCREW YOU! MAKE ME! PAY ME OFF! DO NOT TAKE BRIBES BRAMMERTZ HA HA HA TOO BAD HUH?

I AM A GOOD GIRL.

HERE THINK ABOUT IT "ROMAN CATHOLIC'S AND POMPOUS POPE VATICAN LEADER!

IF YOU ARE SO INFALLIBLE "PROVE IT AND ASK GOD TO SAVE YOU FROM BOTH SHIA AND SHITE TERROR DEATH YOURSELF ROMAN CATHOLICS AND JOHN KIDNEY ASSHOLE ON HARDING AVENUE AND JAMES ANZALDI ITALIAN SHIT TO SAVE YOU FROM IRAN MY BUDDY!

DO NOT YOU DARE TRY TO RAPE IRAN OF THEIR OIL AND A ECONOMIC SANCTIONS THEM INTO SOME " FUCKING BLASPHEMOUS BIKINI PARADISE JOE BIDEN." GOOD LUCK ON YOUR LATEST MAKE A WHORE HOUSE OF DUBAI AND IRAN HA HAHA SAUDI KING, KNOWS YOU WANT TO TAKE HM OUT TO AN DYOU WSH YOU COULD! I KNOW HIM. DO IT ALONE CIA MI6 WONT SAVE YOU SAVE YOUT NUCLEAR BOMBNIG SERBAN ASSES YOURSELVES! CHECKMATE

WHEN YOU HAVE WHAT DO, YOU DONT NEED MONEY TO BE A WORLD MOVER AND SHAKER AM JUST LIKE MY DADDY AND EVERY PRESIDENT N WORLD KNOWS ME AND CIA PLAYER IRV STARR EVEN PUTIN. HI VLAD!

Hypersonic weapons are capable of flying faster than Mach 5 — much faster than the speed of sound — and can maneuver between varying altitudes and azimuths, making it harder to detect.

(Based on information provided by the Protocol and Liaison Service)

The new Permanent Representative of Iran to the United Nations, Gholamali Khoshroo, presented his credentials to UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon today.

Avangard

There are currently two hypersonic missiles with the Russian military: the Avangard and the Kinzhal. The former is a nuclear-capable missile reportedly able to fly faster than 20 times the speed of sound. The first Avangard infrastructure was set up in December 2019. AND THEY ARE IN BELGRADE SERBIA A "HOP A SKIP AND JUMP FROM NYC AT THAT SPEED MAY BE DOOMED TO BUT PUTIN WILL PROBABLY I HOPE GET ME AND BIGGIE OUT ALIVE," I DONT KNOW?

Prior to his appointment, Mr. Khoshroo was his country’s Ambassador to Switzerland. From 2005 to 2014, he was Assistant Secretary General of the Asian Parliamentary Assembly, after having served as Deputy Foreign Minister for Legal and International Affairs from 2002 to 2005.

Mr. Khoshroo was Ambassador to Australia from 1999 to 2002, before which he served as Deputy Foreign Minister for Research and Training from 1997 to 1999. From 1989 to 1995, Mr. Khoshroo was Deputy Permanent Representative to the United Nations. He served two terms, from 1981 to 1989 and 1995 to 1997, as Dean of the School for International Relations, affiliated with Iran’s Foreign Ministry.

Mr. Khoshroo holds degrees from Tehran University and the New School of Social Research in New York, and has published several articles and books on political and cultural affairs.

Born on 16 January 1955, he is married and has four children.

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annothray · 1 year ago

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The Selkie Sister

“Yu sneak, what happened to my seashell earrings?” I cried against the pounding brakers rushing in several feet behind us. . ”You know those earrings meant a lot to me. They were Grandma’s last present before she died, you know,” I went on. I stood over my sister, casting my shadow over her stupid beat-up book of dumb songs she was busy scribbling. She stared up from her perch on the large, black flat “Thinking rock” as she called it and stared with her pretty sky -blue eyes up at me.

“Sorry, sis.” Keira said lamely. But I saw no hint of a true “sorry” in those eyes of hers. I watched with some amusement as a gust of wind whipped at her pages. She held it down with her free hand, the other holding her favorite green ballpoint pen so poetically poised over the scribbled page between her long fingers of her left hand. Of course, she had to be so unique that even God--or whatever drunken muse was responsible –heck if I knew about myths like that—had to make my sister left-handed.

At that moment, I couldn’t stand being ignored by my little sister anymore. Overhead, the sky was thick with dark clouds, like the ones erasing any sense I had left in me. “No, not ‘sorry, Sis .’” I snarled. “What happened to my earrings?”

Keira looked up suddenly. “I lost them running and I tripped. I didn’t know they mattered so much to you. You never wore them, so I did.”

“Uh, yeah, they did matter to me, Keira. So what if I didn’t wear them. That’s not the point. You wore them without asking me first just to look sexy for Liam.”

My words felt like glass in my mouth. I knew they stung my sister. She stood, angry now as she faced me. Behind her, the dark ocean waves grew wilder, louder, crashing over each other with a boom -whooshing as the foaming breakers rolled over each other impatiently for land. The tide was slowly rising.

Suddenly, Keira slid off the rock and stood to face me. “You know, it’s mean people like you, Shay, Liam doesn’t like,” her words punched me in the gut as those blue eyes seared into me. “NO wonder he broke up with you last year. You judge people, you freak out before you think,” she said.

“I judge people. I freak out?” I laughed bitterly. “Liam obviously doesn’t like fat girls like me,” I said, suddenly staring down at my thick legs, nothing like the long lean runner legs my sister stood on.

“He didn’t call you fat,” Keira said like I was stupid. “He just wanted you to run with him in the Hungry shark charity race. You’re the one who threw his guitar across the room and called him a shallow eel.”

My eyes stung at the memory of that fight last summer. I had met Liam in the ninth grade, after he moved to Turtle Rock island from the mainland with his mother to be with his grandfather on the island. It turned out, like many kids on Turtle Rock, Liam sucked at science but was a god of a musician. I sucked at anything artistic—music, drawing and anything else artistic—but science . Now that I did well. It started out with me helping Liam study for biology exams in the spring. I thought he was cute. He thought I was smart. but mostly, I loved how he made me feel things in my dark secret places on my body with his mouth, his hands and voice against my bones when we lay together.

He claimed he liked how different I was from many island kids. Me, who studied how water molecules boiled and how I kept my shoebox collection of the tiny lightning rods from the beach once sand grains turned to glass. He said opposites attract and I thought that was true. But it really isn’t true, even if the negative to the positive charges in science say otherwise.

It wasn’t long before Liam found that other attraction, the one only dreamers find like with my sister, Keira. They met at the Coffee Crab shack open mic. Keira sang and Liam his guitar instantly fell in love with Keira like a muse he finally found after so much searching. YOU totally won’t find me at those sappy Tuesday open mic nights, though. NO, I preferred to stay home and get lost in the drama of a good wildlife documentary or a science-fiction movie of some sort.

“You don’t know how he said it,” I said defensively. “I just wish you and everybody would stop acting like I like what you do. Running. Swimming. You know I trip on my three legs. The water scares me,” I said, thinking back to the time when I was ten and my cousin dared me to swim out too far before I nearly drowned. Dad had to rescue me. I never tried to swim since, only wade out now and again since then into water. “

“I’m sick of your blubbering,” Keira said. She jabbed her green pen at me as if it was a wizard’s wand about to cast an angry spell. “I’m sorry I look sexy with your earrings you never wear and can wear prettier clothes than you. It’s always about you, you, you and how you look. Maybe, you start doing something about it. Quit binging on snacks and making excuses about why you can’t do this or do that.”

The volcano in me rumbled dangerously to the surface. I felt it in my blood, growing hotter and in my hands. What was she talking about it all being about me? It had always been about Keira. IN fact, only Grandma had cared about me because she was smart like me.

In sixth grade, when my hurricane exhibit was going to be judged at the school science fair, Keira chose that night to sprain her ankle while trying to fly like Wendy to audition for the Peter Pan school play. Instead of being grounded after this stunt, Keira got ice cream and hugs from my parents, even though she had fallen from our pein tree she was told never to climb, thinking she could defy gravity. But not me.

When I drew pencil “Xu” and “So” on the side of the house to let my parents know I loved them in some weird artistic way, my father flipped out, saying I had to paint over the writing since he had no time to do it. So, when I attempted drawings properly on paper as a kid, my sea turtle picture was stuck lower on the fridge, thought to be a rough -lined beetle. It went lower down the door than my sister’s drawing. Mine was ignored until it fell off, got stepped on by Mom and was ruined. Meanwhile, my six-year-old sister sketched a ridiculously realistic dolphin. It was gushed over by my mom and neighbors for weeks. “She so talented,” Mom kept saying. “A little Paul Cadden, with all those realistic lines?” And me? Who was I in Keira’s shadowy light? “too lazy…procrastinator…loner” the teachers and my parents said disappointingly. Just not with science. The science nobody cared about except for me, how things worked, how animals survived in the wild, how maybe we had stardust in our own bodies, too. But Keira…I admit, she barely cracked open her books, run off with friends and get a magical A. But I had no friends to run off with. I did not get As . this year especially, now getting closer to the dream of going off to college someday, go into biology somewhere real fancy. But my grades…

“I tried,” I started, unable to stop my frustrated tears in my eyes. “Eating helps me feel better. I just get bad cravings when I’m upset. Exercise isn’t for me. Nothing on this stupid island is.”

“OH, stop,” Keira said, sounding like Mom. “There you go crying again. You wonder why you don’t have friends.”

“Because girls are idiots around here,” I said. “They only care about music, art, who’s dating who crap. They think I’m ugly and super weird for being smart. some girls accused me of cheating on math and science test this year. I have like no friends now. So I’m better alone doing what I’m good at.”

“Yeah. You’re good at feeling sorry for yourself, instead of thinking about how you hurt everyone else. Like I said, do something about it,” Kei

ra said, voice cold as the sea rushing ever -nearer towards us.

Suddenly, the lava in my veins violently exploded as the words burst from my lips. “You think just because you can sing a few off-key notes and fake your way with Liam’s garbage music you can say whatever you want. You don’t know what it’s like to be the oldest sister and be treated like I am .”

“You jealous jerk,” Keira said with blazing eyes. “You know none of that is true. Liam plays guitar great, and I can sing,” she seethed as she rose to her feet, climbing down from the Thinking Rock to the sand. “Maybe Liam was right about you. You are just a blubbering fat baby.”

Something in me broke, shattered like sharp little pieces in all directions in my mind. I lunged towards my sister, who was stepping past me then. With one savage motion, I snatched her notebook out of her hands.

“Take it back,” I growled in her ear. Seagulls screamed as they flocked inland, the wind a constant roar in my ears and snapping at my oversized t-shirt.

“No,” Keira said fiercely, her hands reaching for the notebook. I held it away from her.

“NO?” I said with some surprise. “Why, because Liam said that? or what?” ?”

Her eyes grew glassy and her face serious. Now real guilt flashed in her eyes as she looked desperately at her notebook I held over my head. I waved her book out of her reaching hands.

“I said them,” Keira said, watching with horror as I slowly tore out a page and let it fly out into the wind. It sailed over the incoming waves, before falling into the churning water like a bird with a broken wing.

“Shay, stop!” Keira wailed, as if I had tossed a helpless kitten into the waves instead of her worthless song lyrics into the water. “Please—just don’t. What do you want? New earrings? No, wait. Look, you’re not that fat. I freaked out this time,” she smiled a bit, trying to smooth over the pain. “We’re even, right?”

I was just about to tear out another page. I paused . Studied her face. It was serious, seeming younger as her tears ran .

”wow, a real apology,” I said, a bit sarcastically. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew she meant it. But the bigger feeling in my way was the pain of her words , the rumbling anger simmering and boiling from earlier. I freak out, like I was out of control all the time. So not true. Just with her lately. And judgmental. And seriously, a Liar? Too much too late.

“Should have thought of that before calling me all those things a bit ago ,” I yanked out another page. It came away from the binding with a satisfying rip.

“Be mad at Liam. I know you are,” she said, but her words were like feathers trying to stab at my rock-like anger, unmovable, thick and cold. “Just give back my book. It’s the only place my songs are right now. We’re even, okay? I’m a jerk. And you’re smarter than I’ll ever be. I wish I was smart like you. Art isn’t everything, you know. You’ll be this rich scientist one day. Me? Ha,--Just some girl singing in a pub probably making quarters. C’mon. You’re so lucky. Things aren’t that bad for you really. Look, I’ll do anything to make you feel better. Just stop getting so mad. You can stop now.”

“But you’ll do anything?” I asked. What a liar. Smart like me. She would hate to be smart like me.

It was obvious smart girls get nowhere in places like turtle rock Island. And yes, I was still angry at Liam about everything. It was time I made my point.

“Okay,” I said, racing to the water’s edge. “Go get it.” With a quick snap of my wrist, I flung Kei

ra’s notebook. It tumbled…and silently, it splashed into the roaring sea. I watched the notebook drift away like an abandoned little soggy raft, rising and falling on the waves.

Keira only screamed as if I had murdered more kittens. “What did you do?” she screamed again, racing into the water. I smiled but did not follow her.

I watched with fascination as my sister, fully clothed, flung herself into the wild waves. Powerfully and with effort, she swam out, jumping the waves as she kicked her way to where her notebook bobbed just out of reach.

Then, my triumph turned to cold horror. A wave , taller than me by several feet, came slamming down over my sister. For a moment, Keira fell away from sight under the waves as the rain pelted down like god’s angry garden hose over me.

It was then realized my game was no longer a game anymore. It was getting dangerously real. Keira reappeared, gasping, her notebook nowhere in sight with the thrashing white and gray waves as thunder burst the sky. I watched as Keira came up, then down. UP and down, face just visible, her hair a tangled dark mass around her unseen body in the water.

Heart pounding with fear, I forced myself into the slamming breakers. They smashed against me, toppling over into the sucking sand beneath. They thundered over me even in the shallows as I found myself flailing with a moment of panic. I kicked wildly and slapped the water with hands against relentless wave over wave. I choked in salt water. My head was plunged into the darkness below the pounding surf.

I didn’t know how to swim. I wouldn’t make it. Keira...would she make it?

My head rose up above the surface. The lightning strobed. Thunder crashed as if applauding my fight against ocean versus human. “Keira?” my voice was nothing, a whisper in the rushing waves and cold stinging rain in my face. Another wave rolled me under. Again , darkness. I was shot towards the shore, just another lifeform to spit back. It shot me back with a whooshing foaming rush of the current. Did it spit Keira back, too?

I remember crawling. Crawling slowly up the wet sand. Everything so wet. So cold and wet.

I measured time between thunder. It slowly growled farther and farther from me. It was the relentless smacking of broken shells, tangled stinking seaweed and something harder in the back of my head that made my eyes open at last. I lifted my head, turned to see a bobbing blue sandal. Keira’s sandal, one strap torn away.

My heart jumped. “Don’t be dead, don’t be dead,” I chanted to myself, slowly standing to throw up salty water and whatever else before dizzily moving along shore on shaking legs. The many dead fish, their bodies rotting in the air. The smell made me pause, taking in the reality of things stop after some wandering in circles for several unsure moments. I sat down, pulling my knees up to my chest against my damp, clinging tent of a shirt and shorts as I began shivering. I just wanted to be home, warm with our parents. B a child safe in bed in the cave of blankets and stop shivering. But mostly, I wanted Keira now with me, to hear her sincere words, see her tears again. Where was she? Somewhere down the beach? I did not want to think of the other reality.

I pressed Keira’s broken blue sandal to my chest like some relic. ”I’m sorry, sis. I’m so sorry ,”I moaned. “Just come home. I love you,” and I actually meant those words, words I Had not spoken in so long I forgot when. My tears fell in twos and threes there into the murky foaming water near my feet.

A sliver of red peered out from the west as sundown came. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t go home, not without Keira. Could I ever?

It was then I saw something in the water out a short ways in front of me. Something dark…something round…a head. It had to be, but no, I didn’t want it to be.

My limbs grew cold. I wanted to hope, but I was afraid to. The form drifted nearer…and even nearer as if the ocean was a morbid little child excitedly saying, “Look, look what I found, Shayla?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, unwilling to look. “. “I can’t. I can’t look…can’t look, not like that,” I said to myself, beginning to tremble with an icy reality I did not want to make real. But the noise made me look anyway. The strange, grunting sound of an animal. Alive, beckoning me to see it. So I did, letting out the gasp of air I held tight in my lungs.

The dark-headed seal was so close to me. Its whiskered face and strong, thick paddling flippers helping it move even closer to me to touch. But it was not a seal, not a seal at all. It had those eyes, blue like the sky, dreaming of rivers and oceans of feelings, singing them in her head at night. Keira.

With more speed than I knew I had, I was on my feet, moving back from Keira’s sleek-furred form. Those eyes pleaded with me, so human in their large sockets I could not miss them. They watched, they held me. “don’t leave,” they said. “Be with me.” Trembling hard, I stumbled as I tried moving from Keira farther onto the beach. Determined, Keira struggled to pull herself onto the sand with her flippers, a motion clumsy and horrible all at once in her wild form.

“go back! Leave me!” I screamed as her front left flipper’s sharp claw brushed my foot. Opening her mouth with its sharp teeth in her dog-like face, Keira let out a shuddering, haunting moan of human -like sorrow that cut me in half. Like a weapon, I brought her sandal down on her head. I sobbed and shook as I defended myself—defended myself selfishly and against who? What had she become? Smack, smack, smack went the flat shoe.

I flinched as Keira growled and snapped at my leg, just grazing it. A thin river of blood streamed where she had caught my tender skin above my right knee.

I was afraid of her, of this new thing she had become, something animal , something not. I regretted hurting her again, this helpless creature, all at once. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I said, unable to stop staring at this muscular, sentient beast of the sea—my sister. “I will never be you!”

Unable to stand it,--this dream, this living nightmare from those myths in dark heavy books--I sprung away from her up for the hill, back towards the outline of our house. But even as I ran, I heard Keira’s mournful cry echo. Even worse now, as if she were crying. I could run tonight but it was clear to me. Our fight was not over.

***

It’s funny how time seems to stop when something really big goes down. Especially when big things go down in turtle Rock Village on our Island. It’s not often, believe it or not, we remember someone who’s drowned. Mostly, it’s the old people who go first, their hearts unable to take any more of the heavy shell of the world on their backs and its pressures after nearly a century of living.

Sometimes, someone from our village we knew doesn’t return from the mainland and has a horrible accident there. But it’s the young people here, which aren’t many—maybe a scattered handful in the few families, who are a big deal to lose. The youngest person to die before Keira did was only twelve -years -old, a boy, Sam Palmer, who died of hypothermia after a boating accident left him stranded at sea for two days during a cold rainy night three years ago. Keira was drowned young person number two. It had been a week since my sister’s “death” as everyone else thought it was. But it felt more like a month and really, let’s be honest., She had…disappeared. Of course, nobody but me could ever know that.

The small community—the whole village really-- gathered in the narrow church on the hill to remember my sister. Keira Gray, fifteen-years-old. Invisible in body but her memorial made it seem otherwise.

There were flaming candles. Incense that made people sneeze and hymns to a God I still questioned. I stood quietly, a watchful ghost through the whole thing, like a far-off movie I was not sure I wanted to finish as I listened to the snatches of stifled sobs, coughs and sniffles around me. I remember how the rose perfume from my eighth -grade teacher, Mrs. Gladstone, encircled me like some angelic symbol of hope I did not feel as she wrapped me tenderly like a second mother in her arms.

I overheard my teacher whisper to my parents how brave I was, how it was nobody’s fault about what happened to my sister. Nearby, my parents stood together, two inconsolable figures standing in the stale air in the back of the church. I watched Moms body shake, my father’s brown, sore -red eyes blink like a confused owl awakened in bold daylight in his sullen face.

Nobody really knew what had happened to Keira. They only knew what I told them. The lie.

how Keira accidentally dropped her notebook in the waves when trying to capture some line about their dramatic motion. How I failed to pull her back at the last minute as she was torn away from me by the strong water. How I nearly died myself. The lie, a skeleton in the sunken treasure chest of my soul weighing me down. They could not know and would never know what creature my sister now was.

“So brave,” my teacher said, turning to me. “You tried your best. I’m here for you if you want to talk,” she said, face wrinkling with her sad smile as she turned to go out the doors into the May evening light.

Then I saw him, just a flash of his drawn face, dark shaggy hair and the same worn out jeans and flannel shirt. Liam Walsh, the very person who caused all my anger and the regret I now felt seeing him because of it. My heart squeezed in me, not sure what to say to him as he came in my direction where I stood near the exit . Beside him limped his Grandpa Jack and his mother, solemn as they approached me near the door.

Liam’s green eyes met mine but he did not seem to have words to say. I was glad, unable to move or make much of a sound. I was not sure if I was still angry or sorry for Liam, maybe both. His grandpa Jack, or Poppy Liam called him, filled the silence as he turned to me, leaning on his gnarled driftwood cane I worried would break under his weight. “I don’t know why everyone’s so upset,” he said, seeming confused as he gazed around at the somber people around us. His gaze grew pointed as it settled on me. “You especially, Shay, should know the sea…it saved her life. She’s been singing every night, you know,” he lowered his voice as he leaned in close to me so I could smell the peppermint candy on his breath. “Just the other night, under the moon, I was playing seal music on my flute there down by the water, you see, and I saw your sister with the others. I saw her eyes, all sad in her seal face and crying, Wasn’t she, Liam my boy?” ,

Liam said nothing. He only shook his head as if embarrassed at his grandfather. With a sudden thud, Grandfather Jack pounded his old wooden cane on the church floor. It boomed at my feet causing my parents and others nearby to glance our way. “Now listen, here,” he started. “Liam here was with me. He saw the whole thing. Keira’s alive—”

“ Jak,, , that’s enough,” hissed Liam’s mother with an embarrassed tug at old Grandpa Jacks arm. “Look, you’re making a scene ,” She turned apologetic eye on me. I pressed myself hard against the old wooden wall as if I could fade into its dark paneling.

“I’m so sorry, shay. He’s just so stressed from everything going on. Take care, honey.”

Beside his grandfather and mother, Liam just glared at his Grandfather, disgusted with what seem like nonsense. But I knew it was a frightening truth. NO matter how hard I pushed it out, the scabby wound above my right knee where my sister had caught me only days ago was no dream.

As they left, my bones felt like liquid ice as I heard Grandpa Jack protest loudly so his voice echoed back at me even out the door. “I’m making a scene, huh? Liam, you good for nothing. Why didn’t you back me up about Keira? I’m no fool . I know selkie magic…” before his voice faded.

I stood there stunned. What had Grandpa Jack just said? That word…it sounded like sell something magic. Key magic? Silky magic? Just a made up word for his serenading the seals at night? O was it a special word for what Keira was now? I never heard of it.

And Liam. He was obviously playing stupid about what he knew. Was he embarrassed because I was there? I knew Grandpa Jack’s moods by now and how serious he was and angry, too, when Liam played dumb.

It was true, too, what Grandpa Jack had said just then. All week long, Keira’s voice had been somewhere in my dreams, on the wind ever since her, well, change.

Grandpa Jack, the oldest person on the island, had been the first to see the secret in me as if my soul was a deep lake and he saw right down into it. Frozen ice ran through my legs at the thought. What else did he suspect of me?

Did Grandpa Jack know how it had happened, Keira’s change? Sure, it was no secret Keira had drowned, but I had to avoid Mr. Walsh from now on. Maybe even Liam. But could I really?

As long as nobody found out exactly how Keira had really become seal, (if that was what it really was)then I was safe. Let the island believe I failed as a sister to save Keira. I would not be a murderer.

***

Grandpa Jacks’ words haunted me. They followed me as I puzzled out their meaning. I had to admit, he was right. Keira was with me. All throughout the start of June, the night was the worst time. The time when Grandpa Jack’s words were too true.

my dreams with tangible color and sound found me like a prowling animal. At least once a week I had these dreams, when the tides were high and overtook the beach I walked earlier in the day. Keira was in these dreams, a seal with her human face and teeth sharp as nails driving into my hands. My finger bones breaking, cracking in her powerful jaws as she devoured them like hard-shelled shrimp. I awoke, gasping and frantically feeling my hands in the dark in bed, finding them whole.

Another week drifted by like stray gull feathers on the breezes as the days slowly grew longer as the end of June approached. I could not feel the energizing brightness of the sun or push out the heavy absence of Keira anywhere. I felt a dark shadow in me growing by the day.

This shadow fell over me as I saw the flyers advertising the Hungry Shark race in the Coffee Crab windows where she excited her listeners with her liquid voice.

If only I could run that race…if I was in better shape, I would run it for her, I thought miserably eying the cartoon shark on the colorful blue and yellow flyers shouting at my eyes.

”Keira, you’re right. I am too fat,” I said to the flyer behind the sea -sprayed glass. I was Wheezing like a gasping fish only after running halfway across the beach behind my house. Bent over wanting to throw up in horrible baggy green shorts I found somewhere in my drawer , my heart slamming. I hated my legs, especially, like two thick tree trunks holding me up on the sand.

I hated my body so much. My body…Keira’s seal body. Well, at least I was no seal. I was not covered in fur with a whiskered snout and blubbery flippers weighing a few hundred pounds. No, I was not that ugly or even fat really …

But poor seal Keira. Was she really ugly in the form she had become? Wasn’t nature kinder than that in making her so made for the rough waters and the deep, dark night of below the ocean’s surface away from so much light? Yes, yes she was still beautiful. And for me? What a selfish jerk I was for feeling sorry for my human body, the one I still had and my sister did not, all because of me. I could adapt, too. I could change myself.

I turned, shaking as I walked away from the coffee shop down the sunny sidewalk . Hot tears stung my eyes as thoughts crashed in on me.

no. I didn’t deserve a second chance. Because of me, Keira lives this alien death as another creature from humanity, the people she loved, the hopes and dreams all now nothing. If only she had really drowned like a normal person, this wouldn’t be so bad. But she still existed, probably having nightmares of her old human life…That was more painful than eternal death.

And me? I got to wake another day, feel the sun like now on my face, the breeze in my hair, still hug my parents. I was such a monster. I had no right to stay on this island.

A car past. Windows down. An old eighties song was playing. “…Get my message in a bottle. Message in a bottle,” the singer said to a pounding drumbeat that throbbed through my feet. I paused at the street corner. The car past me.

A message? Send a message to Keira? But seals didn’t read, right? But what if she could? Could it help to tell her, tell someone, how sorry I was?

***

Without Keira, our small cottage was quieter, though the memory in her room upstairs near mine and photos on the walls screamed loudly in my face.

Keira’s room, an untouched shrine. My mother refused to do anything about it, as if Keira could come home any time soon. I knew my parents would probably soon box up her many poetry journals in the locked wooden trunk she bought herself at some yard sale with her money earned watching the Hanlon’s’ dog two summers ago. Her indie band posters on her walls, her name-brand clothes and her tray of collected sea glass on her dusty dresser. But nobody was ready to do that, at least, not Mom and me. Dad insisted it was time after a month already, to accept the reality of Keira never coming back.

I sat on her bed, shoving my message deep into the blue decorative bottle I stole from the window sill collection Mom kept in the living room. She’d never miss it, I figured from the dozen others collecting dust. The bottle would go back to sea. Keira would find it.

If we were really all that connected, like the stars in our makeup to girls turning into seals, then somehow my own magic would work, too. I mean, I’m no believer but nothing screams real as blood. If all those sayings about blood is thicker than water and sisters are bonded by blood, well, maybe there was truth in it.

Carefully, so carefully, I pricked my finger with the needle from Mom’s sewing kit. The pain was a miniature firework on the pad of my left index finger. A bead of deep red dripped to the paper. Then, lowering my trembling finger below the written words, I signed….

***

I would have not gone to school but my parents insisted on it, though I was half alive when I was there. I checked out books in the tiny library on marine life to study the seals. I failed at drawing one with round blue eyes like Keira’s. But her image stayed in my mind, those cutting teeth and wild beautiful eyes reflecting me. My mistake, my doing. I had made her. Instead of taking notes or studying for the final math test as I was supposed to, Inside my head, I burned to ask Liam about Keira’s singing Grandpa Jack had told me at Keira’s memorial. Did Liam here it, too? Did Liam have a secret, a secret like mine? I had to share it…share it with someone. I carried it like a whale hung on a string from my guts. It was getting too big, too heavy to wake up to day and night.

But Liam avoided me in the halls, at lunch, in class. It wasn’t hard to guess he didn’t want me to exist suddenly in his world. One week left of school and my eyes spark and blood glowed like hot lava when I saw him scurry away to his guy buddies, who always seemed to be hovering in the right places to surround him in their noisy huddles.

At home after school, the day I knew I had flunked the math test, I found Mom. She was lounging on the couch, the place I found her lately in the past few weeks when I got home, watching TV. I dropped my backpack to the floor with a soft thud near the living room door and stood quietly there, my eyes drawn to the watery scene on the screen. The seal swam, dark eyes seeing things I could not. I was caught in place as the seal suddenly powered its flippers frantically through the water, frantic as something huge and dark moved in behind it. A shark, silent, deadly, persistent. Red. Red everywhere as it clouded the black -blue…

“No!” I cried, my eyes catching a framed photo on the wall just above the TV screen. Keira’s smiling face taken two summers ago. Red on the screen. The seal alive, but fighting for its life, wounded. Keira’s smile, Keira’s blue eyes. Now the seal, cutting through the dark -blue ocean with a muffled human -like cry…fighting and losing…losing, dying…

My hand found the sea green bottle on the window sill. Whipped it hard. No more. Just no more. I wish it was me. IN the deep dark blue. That blood…that should be my blood. But it’s Keira’s blood..

A sudden crashing of glass, fast and sharp, slammed me back into the room. Mom suddenly standing. Her body blocking the silent TV. It was off now. Mom stared down at me, confused, sleepy. She had been asleep. Not now .

“Shayla? What was that for? Why you mad?”

I blinked. Keira’s picture was not on the wall now. I was shaking. Time felt like it had been rubbed in gum and stuck the minute hands in my head. So slow. But no, only a few seconds?

“blood. I hate blood,” I lied as the tears fell hot and fast down my numb face. What was happening to me? OH, wait, that’s it. It happened finally. The dreams. All of it. I’m losing my mind.

“NO,” Mom shook her head, cutting through my lies. She tossed her frizzy red hair aside and sighed like a breezy tree. Her glance just caught the space where Keira’s picture on the wall now lay in its broken frame on the floor near the Tv. “It’s her. I know,” she said quietly, too tired for anymore tears. She gestured for me to sit near her on the couch as she lowered herself slowly like an old lady on its worn blue cushions.

Slowly, feeling hollow, I sat, too. I expected a lecture, about my angry outburst. But nothing came. Mom had no more energy for that.

It was my fault that she was this way. Depressed again. She had been doing so well, too, working again at the antique shop, even laughing more. The medicine was working but it no match for grief this big. If only she knew Keira lived…lived on shrimp and slept in kelp and on lonely cold windy rocks and sang to grandpa Jack’s flute music in remembering her human self. Or did she? WAS it better she didn’t?

“I know you miss her,” Mom went on, not reading the pictures of seal Keira in my mind. “I do, too. But You know it was…it was a horrible accident. You can’t blame yourself. You tried to help.”

A few tears quietly ran down Moms face. I looked away, unable to stand it. The words , so close to my mouth melted in fear as I almost formed them like rocks in my teeth. I could not admit that I had made Keira go out there, made her drown against a wave she could not swim against. And for what? So I could feel powerful and in control of something I never was? Myself. My feelings.

Mom’s attempt to comfort me felt cold as a damp towel around my shoulders. I let her do it but it was a shark she hugged, hungry, running on instinct without feelings for others. Just a cold, calculating machine with too many useless facts about things and not of feelings for others. Just a predator, another wave knocking everyone down.

“You know,” Mom said then, “as ridiculous as Liam’s grandpa is, he was right when he mentioned Keira’s still here with us. IN here,” she pointed to her heart. “I heard him talking to you at the memorial. You know, Kee, , She loves you.”

Mom’s words struck me and the sobs tore from me. She held me until I quieted like a child, and our tears made our clothes and hair wet as we cried. While she cried for missing Keira, I cried for Mom, for everyone I had been lying to, for a reality I faced alone and with no way out of. Or was there? What magic did Grandpa Jack know?

Forget stupid Liam and his stupid games. He couldn’t hide that for long. When I found out, he would pay for his silence in leaving me in the dark like this. He knew what Keira was like Grandpa. His screaming denial burned in me now.

Forget Liam right now. I’d go to the man himself, learn the language of the seal magic. Find Keira again. And then what?

I wasn’t sure. But I wasn’t dealing with science now. More like the theory humans had stardust particles in them. Connected to something mysterious, ancient and unknowable like space itself. Keira was like that. My crying slowed and I grew still, thoughtful. . IN that moment, these sleep -walking dreams, Her moaning songs at night…it all had to end. Keira was not dead, after all. Just different. And Alive. Alive out there, while I was here, on land. Safe in my home at night. But Keira…at night…was she safe?.

***

Then came the sleep -walking dream, in the last week of June. Keira’s cry,, that moaning song that pulled me from my core like a magnet towards the sea. She called me, longing for me to be with he. I sensed her desperate calls as I moved through the dark of the sea cave, out into the waters that pooled around my knees, my waist…the rising tide…

The thunder rose from Keira’s music, her mouth open wide, the surf joining its roaring boom. I awoke, col and not in bed.

My father found me, crawling on my hands and knees near the kitchen door. He was home before dawn from his shift at the lobster packing plant. I was there, mumbling, not knowing what was real and not. , “Which way? Keira?” Dad smelled of the cold, stale beer and the stink of lobster on him as he lifted me up into his strong arms like a child. With soft steps, he climbed the stairs. ”Quiet, shay-Shay,” he said, my childhood nickname a small comfort. I wondered if Dad, too, could hear Keira’s defeated seal music over the sudden gust of rain wind rattling the windows before I drifted back into sleep in my own bed.

The next day was Wednesday. Last night’s thunder storm spit up driftwood, shells, sea glass, dead fish, all along the shore as I hurried in the direction to Grandpa Jack’s cottage later that day. It was near Liam’s cottage though, which frustrated me. I hoped I wouldn’t run into Liam right now. I was too angry to see him.

Breathlessly, I ascended the steep grassy hillside to and not the path to Grandpa Jack’s plain cottage. He insisted on living in one similar to the old style kind like the fisher’s cottage from what I knew. Said it had the original character and spirit of the old island he loved so much.

Heart skipping with anticipation, I knocked hard on the weathered wooden door. It swung open and I blinked as Liam’s Mom, Mrs. Walsh, peered out looking exhausted.

“Shayla,” she said with surprise. “It’s nice to see you. Is everything okay?”

I never visit Grandpa Jack. I never wanted to before. Before all this, he was just an old man who believed in fairytales and lived like some dreamer everyone said. I didn’t have time for that. Who had time to wonder about the mysteries of magic and the what -ifs of reality?

“Is Grandpa jack here?” I asked in a small voice.

“OH, honey,” Mrs. Walsh’s eyes grew watery. “He had a heart attack last night. He’s at the mainland hospital. The storm stressed him out I think. I’m just taking care of some things here.”

My breath caught. I was speechless, frustrated and afraid. “Is he…okay?” I couldn’t say the word “dead.”

“He’s stable but we’re not sure yet,” she said, seeming like she would cry any second.

My heart fell. Without Grandpa Jack, I couldn’t find my sister again. I didn’t know how I would understand what she wanted from me in the songs I heard in my dreams Liam’s grandfather supposedly knew.

Suddenly, someone shuffled in into the room from behind Liam’s mother. It was the last person I wanted to see. Liam himself.

“Hey, shay,” he said. The anger burned through me. AT school, he kept running from me. But would I run now, too? My feet did a hesitant dance as my emotions fought there in the doorway. NO, I would stay and not be the coward he was.

His mother stepped aside, trying to be friendly and polite as always. “I’ll let you two talk,” she said. I watched her drift into the darkened little kitchen beyond, leaving Liam and me alone with the surf pounding outside behind me.

“so,” I began, steadying my voice. “sorry about Poppy,” I said, using Grandpa Jack’s nickname. I knew his family loved Grandpa Jack, as strange as he could be. Liam’s father had divorce divorced many years before, so Grandpa Jack had become a second father to him in a way.

Awkwardly, I shut the creaking door behind me and stepped into the dusty living room. I saw Grandpa Jack’s many beach treasures. ON a tall bookshelf beside the lumpy sofa, there shelves were crammed with Various gnarled driftwood, some plain, some painted with colored designs. There were shells and oddly -shaped stones ,starfish and more. Beside the shelf, Stacks of thick old books nearly toppled over each other on the floor beside the sofa. The curtains were open and dust motes floated in the beam of late afternoon light slicing across the worn carpet between Liam and me. It was the longest day of the year, I realized, the start of the summer solstice.

Liam’s eyes met mine. Sad brown eyes, maybe even worried I thought. “Yeah. He’s old,” he shrugged. “But hey, he might pull through. And…if not,” he paused, fighting something in him and failing to hide it in his faltering tone. “Well, Poppy got to have one last adventure.

I moved to the shelf of treasures. And froze. I hadn’t seen it at first with everything crowding around it, but it was there. But was it the one?

Hands shaking, I carefully picked up the blue glass bottle. It had been hidden behind a large stack of driftwood. I only spotted it because of its top showing. It was open, cork removed. It was empty.

“Yeah” Liam started, moving close to me. “So Poppy went out like always at the butt crack of dawn. Found that, what you’re holding in the mess the storm washed up. Of course, he showed me what he found at lunch today. It was this letter…”

My ears rang. It was the one. I sat down suddenly on the sinking sofa.

“You okay? You look weird,” he stared at me. There was no room to be angry with him. Only afraid now that Liam knew. How could he even be talking to me?

“No,” I finally said. The room seemed to spin as he sat silently next to me, like old times. Somewhere deep down, beyond the anger, I wanted him again. But it was far away under confused feelings around it.

“I know you wrote that letter. You’re name…was that blood?” Liam said.

His words stabbed me like tiny knives. The tears blurred my eyes. I smelled his spicy scent, felt the warmth of his presence keep me suspended between the real world and myself. He was not angry. He was gentle, and that was the worst.

“You should scream at me. Run away,” I blurted out. “I killed her, Li. I killed my sister!” the words came out in a wail. I forgot everything about what made me hate him, for ignoring me, believing he knew about Keira’s magic change, too.

His arm was warm around me. “NO, no, you didn’t ,” he insisted quietly. I saw his face then, leaning into mine. My brain thought he wanted to kiss me, but another part of me knew he was whispering.

I heard a cupboard door slam in the kitchen. Right. He was only close to keep his mother from hearing us.

“the ocean…it does what it does,” he said almost to himself. “I saw her, you know. Keira.”

Now the anger ignited again. Just a tiny spark above the fear and deeper desires with Liam’s arm around me.

“You saw her when? How? Like Poppy?” I said, an edge to my wondering tone.

“With Poppy . he played some songs on the flute. The seals came in . but one came really close to the shore. It was dark but I saw her eyes…this blue in the moonlight. They looked…looked at me. She made this noise…but in my head, it was like Keira’s music, not like the seal sounds, you know?

“You’re lying,” I said, because it felt good . I wanted him to be lying. To not have known a truth I had kept so guarded all this time. I pushed him off of me, moving to stand.

“No,” Liam said, frustrated as he stood. “The stories of the selkies, they’re real, and…and I think you know it, too. You have to know. You were there when she…when she left us,” he said in a shaking voice. His eyes pleaded with mine, and we didn’t speak for a few seconds. WE heard dishes rattling in the sink as Liam’s mother busily washed them.

“I know you know,” he insisted. “You came here to talk to Poppy about it. You didn’t know he was in the hospital obviously so what else would you want from him?”

“I did,” I said, looking down at the creeping sunbeam fading away from us as time went on.

“I want to see her again , too. But I can’t play flute like Poppy did. Just guitar. It doesn’t work for some reason when I play guitar. And you don’t play so don’t suddenly think you can call her, too. I think it’s in the way the music speaks that calls the seals,” he said with serious eyes watching me like a lecturing teacher.

“why didn’t you say something when Poppy brought this all up at the church way back? IS that why you kept avoiding me at school?”

His eyes flickered from one side of the room and back to me, considering. “Yeah. I didn’t think you would get it, being all rational and stuff. And face it, we’re not the same you and me since we broke up.”

More silence, uncertainty between us both in the uncomfortable space. I broke the quietness. “That hurt, you keeping it from me what you knew. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“I’m sorry. I really am now. I was…a coward,” he said, and looked me right in the face. I couldn’t take the intensity of his gaze. I turned away just as his mother came into the room, then went upstairs.

“I shouldn’t have judged you like that,” he continued after a hard swallow. “But you’re letter. I see you are really upset by what happened. You didn’t kill her, whatever you think you did. Everyone feels guilty when they can’t protect someone they love.”

“It’s not like that,” I started. He wasn’t understanding me.

I had nothing to lose, I realized. This shared secret, that was all it was. WE would never be lovers again, never be the same.

“I made her go into the water. It was me.”

“But it was out of your control. Just accept that she got a second chance, Shay,” he said. “Let her go.”

“I can’t,” I said. “My parents are wrecked over her death. The whole island. She did so many things, made people happy, believed in so many hopeful things and cared so much. Not me. I just took someone’s life away and others are hurt now because of me.”

“that’s how you feel now,” he said. WE moved back to the bookshelf. I set down the bottle, slick with my sweat on the dusty side table near the book stacks. “Life goes on. You’ll go on, do great things,” he was trying to be helpful but he was not.

“I want to find her, I said, not realizing it was out loud. “What is she? What was that thing Poppy was talking about?

“Selkie magic, Liam said, touching a colorful pink shell on the bookshelf. “Poppy says on Summer Eve, they throw off their seal skins, become human once a year. Visit their loved ones. Sing on the beach.”

“wait,” I said, thinking. “Human? Keira can be human again?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “I never saw it. I guess we’ll find out.”

“But she’s supposed to e dead. If other people see her…so she’s not trapped forever like a seal? She can stay,” my voice rose with hopeful excitement.

“quiet,” Liam warned me. His eyes went to the ceiling, where his mother’s footsteps thudded overhead. “No, shay. IF you read any of the legends like Poppy has, all of them say the seal people will die without their skins. Die. Like forever in the ground as humans. For real. . You want that?”

“Don’t be upset,” I said. “It was…just an idea.”

“Well, obviously these things are true so not a good idea. Look, nobody knows about this, okay? I don’t think Keira wants just anyone hunting her down in the town if they find this out.”

“Of course not,” I said, horrified by the idea of my sister being hunted down, her skin a trophy. I shuddered at the thought. She had to stay safe.

I started for the door. “Hey, are we friends?” the words slipped out of my mouth easier than I thought.

“Yeah,” he said from the middle of the room. I slowly opened the door to the evening summer’ air filled with sea spray. “Hey, Shay?”

“Yeah?” I turned to face him as I stepped out into the lowering sunlight.

“I hope you find what you want soon.”

***

What I wanted was my sister. I wanted to believe in the stories, the power of Summer’s Eve and a defiance of physics itself as animal became human. The plastic instrument, Keira’s old recorder I found from the forgotten box in the attic when she was in fourth grade. She hated the instrument, preferring to learn the keyboard instead.

I could at least try. There, on the darkened shores of the empty beach, some ways beyond the thinking rock, I blasted out a few screeching notes. They were swallowed up by the sea. I managed a few actual squeaking notes on the scale but beyond that, nothing really like a song. I held the notes each, long and loudly like a dying bird call.

Finally, after several lousy attempts, I threw the recorder into the waves near my feet. I couldn’t see in the moonlight really where the recorder ended up as it floated away. I didn’t care.

I screamed, yelled my sister’s name as I stood on the rock, crying and screaming all at once.

Exhausted, I climbed down the rock. I saw nothing in the waves move beyond the darkness. It was late, maybe eleven o’clock by now. Mom thought I was sleeping, as she had fallen asleep earlier on the couch. Dad was at work.

I couldn’t complete my plan without Keira, though. I needed her. Needed her to make it all work. But it seemed Liam’s grandpa was a dreamer after all and Liam…maybe a liar, too. Or the myths were lies and nobody knew a thing about selkies. Yeah, that had to be it. Nothing else made sense otherwise.

Feeling defeated, I trudged home. I couldn’t take another night alone in realizing that, really, I had failed at magic. Figures. I was no dreamer. I wished Grandpa jack was here, because maybe he could help me. But he wasn’t.

Sneaking into the house, I listened. Heard the TV ramble on and Mom’s soft snoring. Her anti -depressants were kicking in, making her sleep like a log. She would sleep for hours even with a herd of deer came galloping through the door.

As quietly as I could, I Crept up the wooden stairs, careful to avoid the two groaning steps that croaked like frogs. It was then I realized the top landing was dark with water. A lot of water. I froze on the top of the stairs, confused.

I looked up , but saw no leak in the ceiling. I realized then the puddle of dark water on the carpet tracked away from it, leading into both my room and Keira’s room down the hall. My heart pounded a bit louder now, afraid of what it meant but also excited. What if? What if it was true, I thought, stepping into the soggy carpet where sand grains and the smell of seaweed hung in the air. To Keira’s room I went, the door shut. Dark.

Slowly, I creaked open the door. Smelled the seaweed stronger in here now. Sensed something…watching me. Mouth dry, I snapped on the light. I stumbled back with the surprise I was not ready for.

there she was, naked on the edge of her bed, something large and dark folded at the end of the heavy gray -blue comforter. Keira sat there, her dark brown hair dripping nearly black, skin smooth and white, her blue eyes fixed calmly on me.

My stomach flipped. “Ki-Keira,” I rasped, unable to catch my breath. “You’re a dream,” I said, blinking, not sure why I was in so much denial. Why, after wanting to see her for so long .She had defied the law of physics.

“Shayla,” she said, voice still hers but yet different. It held a note of something older, as if Keira had been away for a hundred years instead of nearly two months. Maybe in seal time it was like a hundred years. I stared unable to see the old scar on her left arm from the time she fell from the pine tree she tried climbing as a kid with me at Grandma’s house. Now, it was erased, her skin new like a child’s. “Not a dream. I’m here,” Shayla said with certainty, eyes steady on me as they gazed deep into mine. I blinked, unable to stand her strange owl -like stare.

My heart smashed in me as I hurried to her, wrapping my arms around her warm sooth skin. She smelled of the sea, of fish and as bad as this all would have been, I could overcome it. Something deep like joy rushed through me, turned my mouth to smile and my eyes to throw tears over her through a mix of amazement and sorrow too big to hold back.

I slowly stepped back then, and eyed her seal skin beside her. Oily, dark and sleek it seemed impossible to have kept her alive in its folds and structure these weeks.

“Did you cause that storm?” I questioned eagerly.

“I’m sorry, I did,” she said simply. . I do things through nature. I know it’s hard to understand,” she began slowly, searching for the words. “But I needed to reach you. I didn’t want you to forget me.”

“Forget you? I can’t live like this anymore,” I said. “It should have been me the ocean took, not you. You had so many dreams of going on, making music, art, supporting things you loved. Why aren’t you angry with me? Just say you hate what I did. I deserve it.”

I stood in front of her, shaking, angry at her calmness. Wanting a reaction of some sort. This was not my old sister. This was someone new who looked like her.

She seemed to age a hundred years as her eyes looked into mine. “I was angry. It was dark. Cold. Frightening at first,” she began. “I wanted you to come with me, but I knew that meant, well, dying.”

“That’s what I want,” I whispered, the words releasing something in me, like a chain snapping. The words felt freeing.

“NO,” she shook her head. “No, it’s not. This magic, it’s torment. Caught in two worlds always, land and sea. You don’t want it.”

“Maybe not,” I said, wondering. “Let’s go outside, get some air. You have all night with me, right?”

“Yes. But only,” she warned. She gathered up the heavy seal skin. Before leaving the room, I made her throw on one of her blue summer sundresses on over her nakedness. She had no issue with it but it was too weird for me to keep looking at.

Like ghosts, we left the house. We went down the shore, to the Thinking Rock. WE sat on the rock together, unafraid anyone would find us after midnight.

“You didn’t call me, by the way,” Keira explained to me as we sat with the seal skin between us. “I would have come anyway. It is the way of the sea. I always watch the island, you know. I watch everyone –you, Poppy, Liam, our parents. I can see them, but I know they can’t see me. I know they’re sad for me. But I’m okay, shay. Really, I’m strong in the water. It’s a second home to me, but it will never be my first.”

“It’s wrong,” I said, touching the skin.. “I’m leaving with you.”

“You can’t,” she said. “You won’t.”

“I need to,” I insisted, then snatched up her skin. It was heavier than I expected. “I mean nothing here to no one. I’m a liar, a killer and give nothing good,” and I leapt away.

Keira followed with struggling steps, unused to her human legs. I somehow got ahead of her, back in the water. The rising tide pulled me in fast, the sealskin like a weighted blanket around my shoulders as I threw it over me. Would it work? Would it turn me seal?

“Stop!” Keira’s words were right behind me as I plunged into the water. The skin hung around me, refusing to become anything but what it was. Just a skin, a skin that dragged me down, an down.

Strong hands raised me, up and up into the black air of night. I gasped as my body grew lighter. The skin was off, my human limbs heavy as my sister’s strong body pushed me back to land.

ON shore, we gasped for air together. I saw her dark human shape, the skin draped around her shoulders like a strange oversized coat. “So,” she said, the venom of her anger finally breaking through her calm. My sister was back. “You want to die? You want me to die, too, alone here without you?”

“No,” I said, not understanding as I stood up , dripping wet. “I want to take your place.”

“Very compassionate, Shayla,” she said, voice softening. “But you don’t understand the power of this skin, the sea, the worse consequences of what you almost did.”

“I just want to make it right,” I sobbed. She came closer to me. Her long hair touched my shoulders and dripped seawater.

“Shayla,” she said in the softest of tones. “I love you. This island is not for you. You have dreams, too. Chase them. The world needs thinkers like you. The world needs more than art. It needs both.”

“But you—you are trapped like you said. I can’t—”

“You can,” she insisted. “You can accept what I am. My destiny is not yours. If you love me, like I know you do, build new dreams. Make new scientific discoveries,” she laughed then, sounding so normal now, and not like a seal girl. “Become a marine biologist and keep us seals safe from pollution. This ocean’s pretty awful like that.”

We laughed together. It was the first time in months we shared a joke like that. Then we grew serious.

“I’ll be back next year,” my sister said. “I will always find you no matter where you go in the world. I bit you the first day, remember?”

“yeah, that hurt,” Is said, recalling the now healed wound on my knee. “What was that for?”

“One, to prove I was real to you. Two, because sisters are bonded through blood. You’re my sister forever, she hugged me then, long and tight.

The hours flew as the sky lightened into gray dawn. My head filled with stories of Shayla’s underwater world, I sadly walked with her to the edge of the water. “Hurry—I need the sea,” she managed to rasp out. Her webbed hands shook with effort as she leaned against me. Afraid for her, I adjusted the seal skin over her body, but not before helping her remove the cotton dress over her head.

She knelt, the skin falling over her body, the seal’s head a hood thrown back from her human face. “Remember what I said tonight,” she said, squeezing my hand in hers with rough fingers.

We suddenly heard a far-off bark of a small dog. It was our neighbor, Mr. Hanlon for his morning beach stroll.

“Shay,” she said in a whisper, the nearby breakers crashing a few feet from us. “Be free,” were her last human words.

I watched my sister shudder. Watched the seal’s face enclose over hers. Her voice a seal’s barking of departure. Awkwardly, she moved on four flippers back to sea.

I stood, watching the dark heads emerge. There were others, waiting friends as my sister’s dark head vanish into the jeweled morning sea in the rising sun. She would be alright. And so would I.

#Short story #fantasy #YA fiction

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beck-hartman · 1 year ago

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A smug grin tugged at his lips as her eyes closed, finding that it never got old to have this effect on her. He didn't linger long where his hands wanted to be but it didn't stop him from teasing her further. "One of the best dresses I've ever seen, possibly only outdone by what's underneath it." Correction, that was his favorite look. His smirk only grew at her tone, one he wouldn't dare to call bossy but might say had that sexy, possessive edge. "Mhm, loud and clear. Just for very special clientele." He wouldn't want it any other way: the fun, the flirting, the friendship at the root of all the other things they were. A hum in the back of his throat, he shot her a little look as if his hand hadn't just been where it was and she was the one starting things. "That's so embarrassing for you," he teased, but after a beat, adding, "or it would be if I didn't also have one on you."

"Good, because she's mine. Mhm, secret friends," Beck murmured, lips spreading even wider as she nipped at him. They definitely needed some privacy in his ever humble opinion. "We have an arrangement," he joked, "mutually beneficial. And yes, it does involve my very particular set of skills."

He could do without running into old teachers, especially the ones who knew his parents. It was bad enough in school when he had to run interference when he wasn't doing well in a class if he saw them out and about while he was with his parents. "The only kind of a math I like." Then he was laughing at her terrible joke, but he couldn't help but add on, "I think I'd rather take it out not put it on--or in." It was making less sense by the second.

"Side piece? Kinda like the sound of that a bit," he quipped, "but I think I prefer my full-time role." He shrugged, pretending he needed to think through this answer. "I haven't done it. Just relying on years of experience, backed by lots of research and science." Not sure what science had to do with this, but it sounded good. "Hold on, you were looking for what with Izzy?" That sounded like his girl: innocent answer up front, dirty one in the back. "I'm just saying, we've tried a lot of things, but billionaires are eccentric and--if your books are any indicator of reality--kinky as hell. There could be all sorts of things. The Kamasutra in the library, an entire room full of things I may not even be able to spell, a pool-sized jacuzzi tub for afterward...who knows? Though I really don't hate the idea of watching you try to shoot a bow and arrow." He nodded to her next question, confirming, "my eyes wouldn't leave you." He thought she might like that idea. "That's what I thought! My million dollar idea." Something to hold him over until he could make the real ones. "I'll allow it for seduction purposes." Then with a little smirk, he asked quietly near her ear, "now where did you give up on your search for that room?"

Shoshanna lost the battle, letting her eyes flutter shut for just a quick moment as he felt the velvet. "So then this must be a really great dress," she whispered, her voice low. "Definitely keep it in rotation, but not at the Lighthouse. This is a private tours only uniform, got it?" She'd shared him enough tonight, she didn't want to share him any more. Cheeks hurting from smiling so much, she gave his hair a little tug. "Mmhmm," she hummed, "I definitely have a crush on you, Beck, baby." She probably would for the rest of their lives, no matter how long they were together.

"You definitely are the only one who gets Cranky Morning Shosh. Secret friends, yeah?" She asked, leaning up to nip at his jawline as he pulled away from their kiss. "I should probably feel sorry for you, but you're the only one who can make her go away. Mad skills," Shosh poked his tummy for emphasis.

This was the weird part of growing up in a small town. Even after graduating high school, your teachers were still around. Seeing your former English teacher in a grocery store was...odd. Then there was the struggle about what to call them. It had been almost ten years, was she still supposed to address them by their last names? Either way, she hadn't noticed any around tonight. She hoped it was past their bedtimes. "No boob math. You're the only one allowed to do math about my body. Put the bra in algebra." She couldn't resist the bad joke.

"Well, Merida didn't end up marrying herself in the end, so I think we're in the clear there. I would definitely keep you as my side piece if it came down to it, though." She groaned as he said he would win. "Have you done it before? Or are you just assuming I'd lose at any sport?" It wouldn't be a false assumption, but she could still pretend to be indignant. "Archery, that's it. Wait, no! I want to know what you were thinking! Izzy and I were looking for the Benefactor's Red Room earlier, maybe we can find it now." Shosh replied, proving that even though she had given a clean answer, the dirty one was always in the back of her mind. Humming contentedly as he placed a kiss on her forehead, she asked, "You'd watch me?" Then, a laugh burst out of her when he mentioned his cat dad joke book. "Oh, that's gonna be so successful, baby. I can't wait to read some of them." Her mind then went to Beck making actual dad jokes, but she quickly brushed that thought away. "Of course I will. Fancy satin robes don't smell like you, don't need 'em. Unless I'm trying to seduce you." She winked at him.

#( thread | shosh. )#( event: halloween masquerade. )

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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