sink to the bottom in water

Mercy Bonus Pt 2 || Kol M.

Song: River of Tears - Alessia Clara

Prompt: This is a flashback of the sorts when Elena threatened Y/N, as mentioned in the first part. It’s sad and I wrote this when I was depressed, so there might be some dark stuff in here.


I look out at the woods surrounding the Salvatore Boarding house, I stood on the deck. The slightest wind blowing through my hair, I felt like Rose standing at the nose of the Titanic, minus the adrenaline, just the drowning sadness.

I close my eyes, tears drying on my cheeks from the cool wind. I imagine that I’m drowning, water surrounding me, my hair floating around me creating a halo. I picture my body slowly sink down to bottom to the ocean. I’m in a flowing dress that surrounds me like my hair. My body felt empty, but I found peace in it as I was in the water.

But that peace was interrupted as I imagined Damon watching me drown, doing nothing. I wanted him to save me, I thought he would, but he didn’t.

I fall to my knees, letting out a sob, still holding onto the railing.

“Oh, darling.” I feel Kol’s hand on my shoulder before I heard his voice. He sat next to me and I dive into him, clutching to his shirt, burying my head in his chest.

He laid he hand on top of my hair, wrapping his other arm around me, holding and rocking me.

“I can’t do this anymore Kol,” I said in his chest, my voice muffled. “He doesn’t love me and he never will.”

“I’m so sorry darling, you don’t deserve this.” He said, pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“I’m love Damon and I can’t help loving him. I’ve tried stopping, but I can’t.” He gives a sad smile and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I know,” I laid my head back on his chest.

“Why doesn’t he love me back, am I not beautiful enough? Not good enough?” I questioned, crying out.

“You are beautiful darling, you’re amazing. He’s not the one that’s not good enough for you.” Kol whispered in my ear, holding me close to his body.

“I just to want to die,” I whimper. “I’m tired of this suffering.”

“I know you are, but it’s not your time to die.” Kol said.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice horse.

“Now let’s get you a glass of water and in bed.” He said, snaking his arm underneath my legs, the other around my waist, picking me up bridal style.

He sits me down on my bed, lays out clothes for me to change into, and took my boots off. He left me to change and went down stairs to get me water.

I numbly change into the short and shorts he laid out for me. Kol walked through the door as I’m getting into the covers, a glass of water in his hand.

“Here you go doll,” he said, sitting the glass on my nightstand. “Now get some sleep.” He kissed my forehead, tucking me in like a child. “I’m just a call away, okay?”

I nodded, burying myself into the covers. “I’m gonna go now, I love you.”

“I love you too,” I rasped, he kissed my forehead one last night and left.

I close my swollen eyes, listening as Kol left, and thinking about his words. When I’m almost asleep, a hand is buried in my chest, grasping my heart. My eyes snap open and Elena comes in my field of view.

“If you ever say anything to Damon about loving him or about this, I will rip your heart out myself, you won’t have to worry about Damon doing it.” She hissed, squeezing my heart, then letting it go. She disappeared, my blood covering her hand, me choking on my own blood.

I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, tears flooding my eyes. I’m never going to get a break, the rest of my life is going to be filled with sorrow, u can see it.

I’m broken.

I know because I didn’t go after Elena for what she did, for threatening me. I’m not myself, but a hollow shell of who I really am.

I can no longer see the light of hope.


Tags: @blue-berry-barry-allen

Mercy Masterlist || Masterlist || Prompt List

2

This viral video, shared on the Fishing and Boat Ramp fails Facebook page, has been viewed thousands of times since it was uploaded yesterday. It shows a fish that’s been frozen stiff, then placed into a tub of water with another fish. It starts to defrost and, with a little encouragement, starts swimming again. Viewers have been posting comments attempting to get to the bottom of what’s actually happening in the clip. Some suggested the clip was a fake, but many others say they’d seen fish behaving in a similar way.

“I’ve seen this in person dozens of time,” claimed another. “Ice fishing in New England with extreme cold temperatures. Catch some yellow perch and they freeze almost instantly. Take them home and put them in the sink with water and they start swimming shortly after.”

“To those saying it’s fake,” one viewer wrote, “you can catch a fish and leave it in an ice slurry (has the same effect, they go stiff and pretty much just fall asleep) all day long, then fillet it and find its heart still beating so I’d pretty much believe this, especially if it was just snap frozen for a few hours or less.” (Source)

A group of amateur cave explorers discovered a river in Mexico with banks, trees and leaves just like an ordinary river, but with an additional metric shit ton of “WTF,” because they were hovering 25 feet over it in scuba gear when they discovered it.

While underwater water doesn’t seem possible, the “river” is actually a briny mix of salt water and hydrogen sulfide. It’s much more dense than regular salt water, so it sinks to the bottom and forms a distinct separation that acts and flows like a river.

In addition to giving scuba divers the distinct feeling that they’re flying through a landscape painting, the underwater river allows them to snap mind-blowing pictures like the one you’re looking at taken by Anatoly Beloshchin.

Unfortunately, hydrogen sulfide is extremely toxic, so the chances of the above scuba diver pulling in some sort of meta-fish aren’t great. However, there is an underwater body of water on the abyssal plain (the part out past the continental shelf where the ocean floor starts to make shit real) that is teeming with life. Deep sea lakes look like normal lakes, complete with sandy and rocky shores. Scientist call these lakes “cold seeps,” but they’re a hotbed for life, because apparently waterfront real estate is a hot commodity under water, too. The “rocky” shores are actually made up of hundreds of thousands of mussels.

The 5 Most Mind-Blowing Things That Can Be Found Underwater

4

Best friends 

 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Where are you?” His voice was something I missed incredibly. It made my eyes water and my bottom lip quiver. I gripped my thigh to try to ground myself, to stop shaking, but realization dawned on me that he knows. 

I wanted to sink in my misery. 

(Y/n)… breathe, don’t cry okay? I’ll be there as soon as you tell me where you are.” I only sobbed incoherent words into the speaker, my head dizzy and my heart caught in my throat. 

Can you hand your phone to someone?” I looked at the bartender who was looking at me with tender eyes while cleaning a glass. 

“C-can you?” I stuttered, shoving my phone out towards him. He took the phone from me easily, like he’s done this about a million times. His mouth moved but I couldn’t hear any sounds. The only thing I could hear was a ringing in my ears as I kept replaying over and over what had just happened. 

He knows. 

Keep reading

Touch It- Part 14

PART 14 IS FINALLY HERE AND THIS IS SO SMUTTY AND HOT AND OMG

Masterlist

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: SMUT, fluff

You and Bucky walk to the kitchen and you pour a glass of water for yourself. Bucky grabs some coffee and he drinks it slowly, looking at you. Siting on the counter in front of Bucky, you look at each other while drinking. This definitely feels weird, but at the same time it feels nice. Being next to Bucky again gives you a sense of comfort and safety that you missed during these days with Feliks. Bucky finishes his coffee and puts the vase on the sink next to you. He takes a step back and places himself in front of you. You look at his blue eyes and bit your bottom lip fighting the urge to jump at his arms.

“So, you wanted to talk?” You look at your fingers when the words come out of your mouth.

“Yes.” Looking up at him you see Bucky releasing a nervous sigh. “What happened to us?”

You are taken aback by his words, not expecting him to ask you that. Hesitating at first, you finally come up with an answer.

“I don’t know.” Bucky sighs and you know he is frustrated by your words.

“You know, you perfectly know.”

“Buck, it’s 3 in the morning, can we do this tomorrow please?”

“No, no we can’t. Because I cannot sleep thinking about it. My memories are not clear and the only things that I know for sure are things that hurt me the most, (Y/N). Things that hurt me and that I don’t even know if they are real.”

“What do you remember?” Your words come out in a whisper.

Bucky is quiet for a second, looking around the kitchen and finally laying his eyes on you.

“I remember you and I fighting here, in my room. I remember you telling me how you used me. I remember you saying the goddamn words.” Bucky runs a hand through his hair, showing with his eyes how this memories are hurting him.

You look down, knowing what he is referring to. Knowing that he still remembers how you told him you didn’t love him. Your chest hurts and you feel your eyes get wetter and wetter. You feel a presence in front of you and then a pair of hands cup your cheeks, making you look up. Meeting with Bucky’s intense stare you gulp, the tears threatening to fall.

“Was that real, (Y/N)?”

You feel like you can’t talk anymore and Bucky just leans closer to you. His lips are almost touching yours and you close your eyes, feeling a tear rolling down your left cheek.

“Doll, I need to know. I just want you to say those words again if that’s how you really feel.”

“I can’t.” You choke out the words and open your eyes.

Finally, Bucky closes the space between the two of you, putting his lips on top of yours. Your hands immediately travel to his hair, putting him even closer to you. You missed his lips, his hands on your waist and the taste of his mouth. You moan into the kiss, unable to handle the feeling on your chest. The days without Bucky were like a drought and his lips are like the water.

Bucky’s hands travel to your lower back, bringing your body to the edge of the counter and closer to him. He picks you up quickly and you put your legs around his waist. Bucky carries you to his room, throwing you on the bed when you arrive. He takes off his shirt quickly, tossing it somewhere in the floor. You bit your bottom lip as his body hovers over yours. Bucky kisses your neck and plays with the hem of your shirt, raising the fabric slowly until you finally take it off. He bits your collar bone and then he takes your right nipple on his mouth. You let out a soft moan when his metal fingers find your right nipple.

“Fuck- you are so beautiful, doll.” You moan again at his words feeling your core getting wetter as the time goes by.

Bucky kisses his way down so slowly that it’s almost painful. When he starts sucking on your hip bone you feel like you can’t take it anymore.

“Please Buck- I need you.” Your voice is higher than you intended and you want to kick yourself for being so desperate, but you want him. And you want him now.

He takes your pajama pants and your panties slowly and throw them in the floor. His face and lips are so close to your core that you can feel his breath hitting your center, making your skin shiver at the feeling. But then you feel him laying down next to you. Furrowing your brows you look at him with a surprised and almost mad look.

“Come here, doll. Trust me.” He motions for you to sit up and you straddle his lap. “I don’t want you to sit there.”

You immediately know what he is proposing and it sounds so good it makes you moan. The smirk on Bucky’s face encourage you to crawl up his body until you are above his face. His hands enfold your thighs, helping your body to lower onto him. When you feel his tongue in your core you let out a long moan. Bucky’s tongue it’s magic, working you up towards your orgasm. His lips wrap your clit and he sucks, making you close your eyes in pleasure. His hands start to move your hips and you comply with what he wants. You are literally riding his face and when you look down at him, you let out another high pitched moan. His eyes are closed and you know that he is enjoying this almost as much as you are. You feel a tingling sensation and you hold onto the headboard. Your orgasm hits you, but Bucky doesn’t let you go. He swallows it all and sucks your clit into his mouth again, making you see stars. Finally, his hands stop holding you down and you move slowly, sitting on his lap. You kiss his mouth passionately, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hips lift up and you feel the hardness on his pants hitting your core. Quickly, you remove his pants and boxers and grab his length with your hand. You stroke it slowly and Bucky let’s out a shaky breath. Siting on his lap, you put his cock on your entrance and lower your body, taking him all. The both of you let out a moan at the same time and you put your hands on his abs. You move slowly at first, but you quickly pick up the pace, moving faster. Bucky puts his hands on your hips, helping you move. You can’t avoid the moans leaving your throat and you dig your nails on Bucky’s abs. You let his cock sink into you and you move your hips, your clit being stimulated at the movement. Bucky’s hands urge you to move up and down again and you let out a loud moan when his thumb starts caressing you clit. You can’t take it anymore and finally you reach your second orgasm screaming Bucky’s name like a prayer. Quickly, Bucky joins you, letting out a low moan when his orgasm hits him.

You lay down next to him and he puts the covers over the both of you. His arms hug your waist, bringing your body closer to his. After a few minutes of silence, you feel his voice filling the room.

“Why did you say you didn’t love me?”

“Because loving you means putting you in danger.”

Bucky looks down at you with his brows furrowed and you turn your body around, your tummy on the mattress and your left arm across his torso. Your head is resting on the palm of your right hand and you look at his blue eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Feliks wants to turn you into the Winter Soldier. He is scared of your feelings towards me. I was trying to protect you.”

“Doll, I can protect myself.”

“I know, but the idea of him killing you was driving me crazy. I didn’t want to put you in danger. That’s why I lied. I was hoping that after that Feliks would leave you alone. But I was wrong.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, doll. I would rather be in danger than living in a world without you, okay? We are going to fight Feliks and we are going to win, but we need to do it together.”

“I love you, Bucky.” He immediately grins at your words and you feel a warm sensation running through your body.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

You kiss his lips slowly, enjoying every second of it. Breaking the kiss, you crack a smile and he kisses your forehead, his metal arm hugging your hip. You lay your head on his chest and you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.


TAGS:

@rebekastan98 @a-small-independent-princess @matteblackvevo@directionerssalute@happelu970 @jenni-jones00 @supernaturaldean67 @mcrveling @the-girl-with-no-plan @chrixa@strange-polish-lass @g-r-u-n-g-e-s-p-a-c-e @cryxbcky @melissalovesmusicyay@tigerb103@recherchay @tesscqray @themarkofsupernatural @damnbuckyishot@buckysbabygirl@katbird787 @writingstranger @pietro-no @that-one-girl-with-no-life@spnavenuemilkshake@pickylittlebitch @potteryimagines @emma-fitch @heyitsannexcx @saryblu @foreverparasitic

Imagine young Sirius who is just getting his beard around his 7th year, calling you kitten. Oh god o/////o and he puts his jacket around your shoulders! and he’s got that half smile with one fang poking his bottom lip! Dear lord smite me! ♡\\♡


You and Sirius were sitting at the edge of the Black Lake, skipping stones and telling terrible, corny jokes. He was trying to convince you that he was hilarious and through telling such awful jokes he was actually making you giggle.

“Sirius enough,” You grinned, tossing a rock into the water with a quiet ‘plop’. 

He burst out laughing. “That was pathetic!” Just to emphasize he tossed his own stone and the two of you watched it skip five or six times before sinking.

“What’s pathetic is your sense of humor,” You grumbled, leaning against his side and wrapping your arms around yourself. It was getting colder.

“Oh please, Kitten. I am the funniest person you know.”

“Maybe the funniest looking person I know.” 

He laughed quietly and started to shimmy out of his huge droopy jacket, accidentally elbowing you in the shoulder. 

You yelped out in surprise. “Sirius!” You whined, leaning away from him dramatically. He flushed. 

“Sorry. I was trying to be nice. You look cold.”

A smile crept onto your lips and you looked away for a moment. “You are an absolute dork…” You muttered, letting him wrap the jacket around your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Kitten. Maybe now that you aren’t frozen you can skip a rock.”


@fangpire-love

3

Your feet hit the wooden floor of your kitchen and you hiss softly, jumping a little bit at the biting sensation of your warm feet hitting the solid cold ground. Taking off your socks last night wasn’t the best plan. Yawning again, you pad quickly into your kitchen and take a glass out of the cupboard.

Quickly filling it halfway with ice from the fridge, you walk over to the kitchen sink and turn on the faucet so water pours into the glass. You look up through the frosty window and see the early spring dew gathered on the blades of grass. The early morning sunlight is complementing the blue of the tardis just right.

You freeze. The tardis is in your front yard. In your shock, the glass you were holding clatters to the bottom of the sink, and the cold water from the faucet rushes over your hands.

“Good morning!” A cheerful voice behind you greats.

Spinning around, you see the Doctor, donning ratty blue pajamas and his glasses, walking out of your living room with a bowl of (favorite cereal). He spoons some of the food into his mouth and smiles at you as he chews. Your mouth is still open in shock, and you mumble: “Doctor?”

He swallows and grins at you with all of his teeth. “Hello, (y/n).”

“I haven’t seen you in months.”

“You really thought I’d leave you behind?”


Ronan and Adam in a nutshell 


“I want to spoil you, and buy you things. Let me do that.”

It was the saturated sunlit dream of every girl who ever tripped upside down at the sight of Ronan. It was the very moment that the sun peaked over the mountains and offered life. That was what it felt like, but Adam didn’t want it. His body turned into a heavy stone, sinking toward the bottom of bottomless water. He was staring into the deathless death of fury, it filled a void inside him with darkness. There was this aggression that bubbled somewhere, in his stone body.

“I can spoil myself.”

“I know, dip shit. I still want to spoil you.”

“Why?”

Ronan bit something behind his cheeks. It was reverie of something, a clump of words that measured largely inside his throat. “Because,” I love you.

The bubbling anger within Adam diminished, like an origami dragon it unfolded into a flameless, flightless bird. He moved toward Ronan, a flighty cloud of an idea in his head. “Because… ?”

Ronan smirked, it was the most sharklike reel of teeth Adam ever observed. His heart strung up in uneven piles, the tissue was nothing but paper thin layers beating, beating, beating like a loud drum. Adam’s favorite smile. “I love you, idiot,” He hissed behind his menacing grin, and pulled Adam into his arms. Fire erupted. The ocean bellowed and crashed onto the sky and the birds were drowning between the clouds. This was what making love to your dreams was like. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. Their ears focused on how the drowning of birds sounded so blissful around them.

Only one person could make Adam so angry and so in love at the same time. He didn’t know what to do with that. “Spoil me with you, not with luxuries.”  

The Spawn of Shawn

Apologies for sucking at updating and thank you to those who have stuck by me!

Thanks for the request! I’ve put my own spin on this and it may not be what people are expecting, but this is what I see for my characters. Hope you enjoy :-)

My hands shook as I rubbed them together under the warm, running, water. I looked at myself in the mirror, the stress and worry evident in my eyes. I averted my gaze, now focusing on the unwrapped tampon I had placed on the sink next to me. My teeth pressed into my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. I finished washing my hands and quickly dried them, snatching the tampon off of the counter and walking out of the bathroom. I kept my facial expressions neutral as I headed back to my office, trying my best not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Ben, hold my calls,” I said to my assistant.

“Sure thing,” he replied, not looking up from his computer.

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to keep my composure. The thoughts in my head were scrambled and my heart was racing what seemed to be a mile a minute. I needed to calm down and fast.

Keep reading

You can sprout seeds with nothing more than a mason jar, a rubber band and some cheese cloth. Be sure to sterilize the jar with boiling water before you use them. Soak your seeds for six to eight hours, the viable ones will swell and sink to the bottom. The duds will float. Skim off the floaters and drain. Put the seeds in your container. Rinse and drain again. Put your cover on and store it away from direct light, but not in a spot that’s totally dark. Bean sprouts don’t require light but other leafy ones do. Rinse and drain at least twice a day. More if you are able. You can’t rinse them too much. You want to hit them with a pretty good stream and you want to make sure each seed is fully rinsed.

Random Headcanons

- Do not leave Genos alone in water - he’s a massive ton of metal that will sink to the bottom floor if left unattended
- Saitama sings to the radio when cooking breakfast
- Every time Kuseno is on his his way out of the lab to go for a much-needed vacation, Saitama comes over carrying a wrecked young cyborg. (The old man sighs internally, he can only stare at brochures and dream)
- Saitama is always woken up by a smol rover and minibots jumping over him and Genos just watching, shaking his head in his pink apron and smiling and it’s very domestic
- Genos forced to endure puns
- Sonic sometimes chills at normal gyms, tries too hard
- “I’M NOT UNEMPLOYED! I’m…just jumping in between assassinations right now.”
- Amai Mask music videos are like a diabolical mix of korean drama lovesongs and walking on the beach with a white horse
- “Sensei, tell me a paradox.”
- “If I punch myself, will I die?”
- …
- Genos.exe has stopped working
- Saitama walking in on a Caped Baldy fanclub meeting
- Genos is standing behind a stand, the minibots and rover sit around him
- The lights are low, there’s candles and a giant portrait of Caped Baldy on the wall
- “Ah, Sensei, you made it in time for-”
- Saitama walks right back out
- “teacher’s pet” tank top
- When Genos shuts down after a terrible battle and Saitama gets really nervous, he mumbles nonsensical nonsense underneath his breath
- “My cyborg is cybroke”
- “Where’s the doc, where’s the doc, gotta keep calm can’t keep calm freaking wAKE UP GENOS”
- “Dadadum… Just waiting, it’s quiet, the train’s frea-king quiet”
- “Ah, come on, you beautiful idiot you…”
- Genos wakes up early, but always lingers in bed for ten minutes to appreciate his sensei’s warmth
- Genos has a set of cuddle arms

(Written for @bookedbyfandoms for Fitzsimmons Secret Santa. I was so ecstatic to have you as my giftee and to write this holiday fic! I hope you enjoy <3 )


She’s awake as he opens the door slowly and softly, and when it creaks, he pauses for a moment and then begins again.

Not that it matters, of course. Sometimes Jemma dreams of blue; and it’s not the blue of his eyes but the blue of the sky, the water, and the ground beneath her feet.

Sometimes, it’s falling from above, screaming and crying, only when she’s saved it’s too late to save him as he tumbles after her.  Sometimes, it’s dragging him up from the bottom, holding her breath, and fighting to reach the surface only to lose her grip and watch him sink.

Sometimes, its amidst the swirling blue sand that bites into her skin as she reaches out for his hand, and watching as he gets pulled away from her before she can grasp it.

In all of them, Jemma loses Fitz, and she doesn’t know who she is without him.

(Scientifically speaking, she knows she can survive, even if he’s gone. She survived for 9 days after they sank to the bottom of the ocean and she survived 4722 hours on that hellish planet. So she knows what it’s like to survive. But there’s a difference between surviving and living, and it reaches from the depths of the ocean to the distant galaxies in the sky.)

So Jemma’s been awake for a while, really. And Fitz was awake with her, hand placed upon hand placed upon his chest before he kissed her forehead, her cheek, and her lips, and shifted out of their bed. Jemma’s lain there since, wondering how she’s still trying to pick up the pieces, and how he’s still there beside her even when she’s still dreaming blue.

Jemma keeps her eyes closed and body still, pretending to still be asleep because she knows what’s coming next. She can definitely hear the little patter of footsteps as they come closer, and she can feel the dip of the bed as her daughter climbs on.

The last bit of her dream of blue and survival and loss washes away.

“Mummy!!!”

Jemma opens her eyes and gasps, feigning surprise. She reaches her arms out and Maisie clumsily falls into them, giggling in that little girl giggle of hers. Jemma throws her head back and laughs at her daughter’s toothless grin.

“Mummy!” Maisie demands once again. “Time to wake up!”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Jemma relents, and she turns to face Fitz as he stands by the bed, beaming at them.

“Good morning, Jemma.”

“Good morning, Fitz.”

It still manages to take her breath away— he still manages to take her breath away. Anything and everything, anyone and everyone, changes but her love for him never does. It always remains constant.

His love for her never does, either.

And their love for their daughter never does.

It’s seeing him now, Maisie twisting around and reaching towards him, calling out “Daddy Daddy I woke up Mummy like you say to!” that Jemma’s heart races and feels like it might burst out of her chest.

It’s watching him now as he smiles, picking their daughter up and covering her tummy in kisses, hearing her screech in laughter, that Jemma leans over and places her lips on his cheek.

(Before when she dreamed of the blue he was beside her, and she woke up with a shiv in her hand. Now she dreams of blue and he’s still beside her, but she wakes up with their daughter in her hands, and she doesn’t think any of her billion questions she had when she joined SHIELD could ever answer how incredibly lucky she feels.)

“I love you,” she whispers, and hopes that he still, after all this time, understands what she means between these three words that could never say what she feels.

Fitz turns to meet her, and although he does that cheeky grin of his before he kisses her, Jemma knows he’s trying to do the same thing.

(They’re psychically linked, after all.)

“Mummy! Daddy! Are Aunty Daisy coming today?” Maisie interrupts.

“ ‘Is’ coming today, Maisie.” Jemma corrects and kisses Maisie’s forehead. “Aunt Daisy is coming today.”

“And Aunt Elena and Uncle Mack and Grandpa Coulson…” Fitz narrows his eyes and taps a finger on his lips, tilting his head. “There’s someone else, too… who am I missing?”

Maisie gasps and places her hands on her hips. “Daddy! You forgot Grandma May!”

Jemma snorts as Fitz widens his eyes and nods vigorously. “Of course! Grandma May! How could I ever forget her? Come on, Monkey, time to get dressed.”

Fitz whisks Maisie away, and Jemma pauses for a moment before she places the covers aside and steps out of the bed.

“Imma tell Grandma May,” Jemma hears Maisie say in a singsongy voice. “That you forgot her.”

“Wh—what? Maisie please do NOT tell her that oh go—JEMMA!

Jemma smiles.

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to—

to have the things she has now.)

***

Jemma’s in the midst of balancing Maisie on her hip and putting the last of the decorations on the tree when the doorbell rings, immediately followed by Fitz’s frantic footsteps thumping towards the hallway.

“Okay, May, listen.” Fitz declares as he opens the door. “I might’ve joked to Maisie that forgot that you were coming but I swear I was joking. May, I was joking.”

“Oh my god, Leopold. You should’ve seen your face– I can’t believe that after years you’re still a little afraid of May. You’re practically quaking in your boots.”

Maisie gasps and strains to leave Jemma’s side. “It’s Aunty Daisy it’s Aunty Daisy!”

Jemma sets her down and follows as Maisie bolts to the front, where Daisy is laughing as Fitz groans.

“It is Aunty Daisy! And who would’ve known from the horrible pun I’ve just heard?” Jemma calls out mockingly.

“Excuse you, Jemma,” Daisy calls over Maisies’ chants, lowering herself to the ground and opening her arms, smiling at the little girl. “My puns are terrific. You wish you had my—oof!” Maisie reaches Daisy and Daisy rocks, thrown back a bit at her strength. But she remains steady, and embraces Maisie tightly.

(somehow, Daisy always remains steady, always loves immensely)

“And I—I wish I had this beautiful little nugget!”

Maisie’s face contorts and she shakes her head furiously. “Ew, Aunty Daisy! I’m not a nugget!”

“I could just eat you up!” Daisy emphasizes each word, bopping her nose with a finger when she ends her thought.

Fitz laughs as he shuts the door behind them. “If you could not eat my child, that would be great.”

“Oh, shush.” Daisy stands up and brings Maisie up with her, gazing at him. “You’re just mad that I wasn’t May for that great little apology you had going on.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be you!” Fitz groans once again, dragging his hand down his face in exaggeration. “And when do you ever ring the doorbell?”

“Does May ring the doorbell?” Daisy ignores the question, and gives her own.

“Yeah–”

“–Always.” Jemma answers the same moment Fitz replies.

Daisy pauses, slowly blinking at the both of them before she speaks. “Oh. Well then, I’ll be sure to go back to my vigilante days of not ringing doorbells next time.” Shifting easily into a crooked smile and shifting Maisie easily onto her hip, Daisy reaches out and pulls Jemma into a hug.

“Hey, Jems. Happy holidays.”

Jemma brings her arms around Daisy and Maisie, and is suddenly overcome. How could something so simple as Daisy reaching out and embracing her make her feel so– make her love– feel so vast? Jemma inhales and just breathes in the milky scent of her daughter, and the sharp scent of her best friend. The first time she had hugged Daisy like this, Daisy was Skye– and SHIELD was still SHIELD. They were children, all of them. The first time Jemma had ever hugged Daisy like this Jemma was the girl who fell from the sky, and she first began dreaming of blue.

Jemma closes her eyes and is overwhelmed in the black, and she wonders if this is what Daisy dreams in.

(Jemma’s throat feels dry, and the pit in her stomach grows because when she wakes up from dreams of blue Fitz is always beside her, but when Daisy wakes up there’s no one.)

She’s pulled back into reality when Maisie speaks, her voice laced with concern. “Mummy? Is you okay?”

She pulls back and meets Daisy’s eyes, narrowed a bit with suspicion, affection, and concern. Jemma offers a wavering smile and attempts to take Maisie from Daisy’s arms.

“ ‘Are’, Monkey. It’s ‘are you okay’.” Maisie latches onto Jemma and nuzzles into her neck, the pit in Jemma’s stomach loosening slightly.  “And Mummy is fine she just missed Aunt Daisy a lot.”

She risks a glance at Fitz, although she already knows what she’s going to see because she knows Fitz better than he knows himself, and he knows her better than she knows herself. He nods faintly, and then moves to embrace Daisy, exchanging greetings.

(Later, Jemma will grasp Fitz’s hand while they lie awake at night, and wish that she could take the pain Daisy must still carry. She will hope and hope and hope that she and Fitz and Maisie and May and everyone who loves Daisy is enough for her. That even though they might not be there when she wakes up from her dreams of black, they are still there. And at first Fitz will say nothing but grasp Jemma’s hand back, and then he will let his own tears fall.

Later, Jemma will grasp Daisy’s hand while they sit side by side, and tell her of all her wishes and hopes. And at first Daisy will say nothing but grasp Jemma’s hand back, let her own tears fall, and then whisper that they are all more than enough for her.)

The whistle of the kettle blares over Jemma’s voice, and she has to raise it if she wants Daisy to hear all the way from the kitchen. “Daisy! Where do you want to sit? Next to Coulson? Or Mack?”

“That depends; where’s Elena sitting?” Daisy calls back, just as loud.  “Because I don’t want somebody to play footsie with me when it’s meant for somebody else. Again.”

Fitz snorts from where he’s setting the plates on the table, and glances at Jemma, rolling his eyes. She rolls hers back, smirking and shaking her head. Taking the kettle off the stove she begins to pour the hot water into the teapot.

“Is that a game? I want to play! Aunty Daisy can we play footsie?”

“Not right now, Monkey.” Jemma replies and keeps her voice even and steady, stirring the pot languidly. “Maybe Aunt Daisy can play later. Even though it’s been three years since she played it that one time and still manages to bring it up at every occasion.”

“Jemma I have to. What’s the point of embarrassing situations if nobody brings it up every now and then? What kind of a friend would I be–”

“But Daisy,” Fitz interrupts, coming up next to Jemma and grabbing the utensils. “You bring it up every single time.”

“Fine,” Daisy saunters into the kitchen with Maisie on her shoulders. “Guess I’ll just have to get something from you guys. Then I can alternate.”

“Yes, Aunty Daisy!” Maisie pipes.

Fitz gasps, clasping a hand over his heart. “Traitor!”

Daisy beams as Maisie giggles, Jemma feigning a glare at both of them, placing her hands on her hips.

The shrill ring of the doorbell goes once, twice, and Fitz places down the last knife before he walks quickly to the door.

Daisy tilts her head and smirks. “How much you want to bet he starts the apology and it’s still not May?”

“No deal,” Jemma replies immediately.

They both listen to the sounds of Fitz rambling, the door opening, and the interruption of a “Turbo!” and a “Fitz!” before a long groan.

Jemma smiles.

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to have the things she has now.)

***

Fitz’s busy grabbing beers from the garage for Mack and Elena when the shrill sound of the doorbell rings at exactly five o'clock.

“May! Coulson! Right on time!” Jemma says before she even opens the door.

“Of course,” May answers. “You said dinner at five, right?”

She pulls Jemma in for a brief hug before stepping back and letting Coulson have a chance to.

Jemma beams, beckoning them in and shutting the door when they’ve stepped inside.

“Everyone’s seated at the table, and Fitz is grabbing some beers if you guys want anything?”

“Just my—there she is!” Coulson exclaims, grinning and his voice rising an octave higher.

Maisie races down the hallway, giggling with arms already outstretched.

“Grandma! Grandpa!”

(Seeing her daughter racing toward May and Coulson, Jemma can’t help but quickly glance at their faces. Coulson’s always been easy to read, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He bonds so quickly and loves so fast that Jemma’s never doubted that he cared for her, for all of them. But if Coulson is day, then May is night– and she keeps her heart hidden behind a closed fist, afraid of letting go. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love, and it’s clear as day when Maisie comes at her that May loves her.

May loves all of them, and she always has.)

In Coulson’s arms, Maisie slobbers his face with messy kisses as Coulson laughs, Jemma and May exchanging amused looks.

“Thank you so much for the kisses, Maisie.”

“You’re welcome Grandpa!” Maisie chirps, then swivels her head towards May. She squirms and reaches out, and May gingerly takes her.

May smiles as Maisie wraps her arms around her and nuzzles into the crook of her neck. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

“Glad you’re here!”

May takes a deep breath before she replies back, her voice firm like always but laced with a kind of softness and warmth that only May could have. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Maisie leans back and faces May head on. Before Jemma can say anything at all, there’s a twinkle in Maisies’ eyes and a grin on her lips.

“Daddy forget you were coming.”

May scrunches her nose and turns to look at Jemma, who can’t help but smile and chuckle under her breath.

“It’s ‘forgot’, Maisie,” Jemma reaches for her daughter. ‘Forgot’ you were coming.” She leans forward and whispers to May. “He didn’t really. Obviously. But she thinks he did.”

“Ah, I see.” May nods, and, with her own twinkle in her eye, says wirily, “This is going to be a fun night.”

***

“Fitz, can you pass me the sauce?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I was worried you’ll forget me again.”

“MAY.”

May quickly glances at Jemma and winks before returning to glaring at Fitz. Elena and Daisy snicker while Mack lets out a hearty laugh. Jemma reaches over and places her hand on Fitz’s, leaning towards him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Happy Holidays, Fitz.”

He turns and immediately gives her a crooked smile, oblivious to everything else in the world but her.

“Happy Holidays, Jemma.”

“HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!” Maisie shrieks, causing an eruption of laughter around the table.

Fitz squeezes her hand, and Jemma beams at her daughter before looking at each and every one of her friends. Her heart thumps in her chest and she’s filled with such warmth and content seeing their smiling faces.

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to have the things and the people and the happiness she has now.)

Sitting at this table with Fitz, Maisie, Daisy, and the rest of her family, Jemma smiles.

The Deep-Below

A #microfiction for anyone who ever feels like they’re sinking…

They called her Pearl, because you could always find her curled up at the bottom of the ocean.

When she was young, she had been a sleepy child and would often drift to the floor of the shallow oceans (that all the mer-pups stuck to) and curl up in a soft bed of kelp.

They had joked that these blankets were her shell. In her adolescence, the elders taught her (as they taught all with the talent for depths) how to forage the fruits of the sea and scavenge the wrecks of the over-water. And she began to experiment with making clothes out of those warm fronds of kelp, so she could carry her shell with her everywhere.

Whether she wore them or not, she always carried a little bit of the depths around in her head. You could see it in the inky depths of her eyes when she would look off into the distance and her friends would know she was not with them, but briefly somewhere far below. Somewhere swathed in comforting darkness.

But her friends in her scavenging pack had patience for these flights of fancy, when she would plan her next adventure in the deep-down. For when she returned, she would bring with her such wondrous stories and souvenirs and it was almost as if they had been there with her.

But there was another darkness that she carried with her. This darkness was a kind of predator that swam through her mind, its rows of teeth made up of all the fractures of her worries. For, as she had grown, she had found the tight pressures of life beneath the waves had crushed her somewhat more tightly than they seemed to for others.

She heard the laughter of the foragers above her with their angler fish smiles, and it dug into her ears in ways it did not for her friends. Her eyes were often wide as she twitched at the approach of social rivals, as her brain screamed “predator”. Her keen eyes, which she could not turn off, saw even her own soft spots and attacked them ruthlessly. “You’re just a silly little pearl with your trinkets and your stories,” it would say to her, “what good are you?”

Later, her friends would tell her that these sharp edges within her were the same things that made her excel in the deep-below - her wide vigilant eyes, her curious, caring and questioning nature. If only she could direct them outwards instead of inwards.

But befriending the predator that lives inside you is not so easily done. It is a process that is accomplished inch by careful, angry inch and sometimes results in being bitten.

And whenever she felt that creature begin to prowl the waters of her brain, she would sink like stone to the bottom of the deepest trenches. There the water would close around her like a shell (or perhaps a vice would be more accurate). It had taken her years of diving to build up that kind of resistance to the pressure and none could safely follow her.

So down there she would hide, alone and safe from either being bothered or feeling like a bother on any other creature.

Eventually, she sank so deep for so long, that she began to lose any feeling that she was connected to the bright worlds of the upper waters at all. She resolved to stay down there and make her home in the deepest dark of the ocean’s crevices.

Some of you will be pleased to know that there is a “but” coming.

You see, she *would* have stayed down in the deep-below for the rest of her life, *but* for two things…

…the first “but” is simply this: that some of the other mer-folk missed her.

They were not so well equipped as she to explore the deeps. They had not grown accustomed to the pressures. They had not built up their bodies to withstand the cold, as she had.

But they were determined. And they loved her. And those with light in their hearts and blind stubbornness in their heads have often been able to achieve the impossible.

So they practiced and they trained and they learned to cover for each others’ weaknesses. And gradually they dived ever deeper.

…the second “but” is that the heavy darkness that swaddled the trenches was not *empty*.

Over time, as Pearl became more accustomed to the different shades and textures of pitch that were the ocean’s bottom, she began to perceive the shifts and rolls of the water. Miniscule shifts in pressure and current that spoke of something *massive* snaking through the space around her.

And, because she was ever curious, eventually her questioning nature overcame her sadness, and she swam towards the movement.

What she felt there was massive and rough and smooth. It twisted as she touched it and pressed a giant sucker against her arm. It began to curl round her, but she was not afraid - something in the hind of her brain knew this for affection.

Then she heard the voice. It was everything and everywhere, shaking the ocean around her and rippling down her skin.

“I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU’D SAY HELLO.”

“Uh, hello…” She mumbled.

“HELLO.” The tentacle squeezed her gently. “IT IS NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU, PEARL.”

“You know me?” She said.

“ALL IN THE DEPTHS KNOW YOU.” A single giant eye opened and glowed in front of her and seemed to float there, connected to nothing. “AND TO KNOW THE DEPTHS IS TO KNOW ME.”

“What are you?”

“I AM THE DEEP-BELOW. I AM WHEN WATER BECOMES INK. I AM THE DARKNESS THAT LOVES YOU.”

Pearl did not know what to say. She had never before felt so seen. Or so safe.

“AND I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE. WE SHOULD GO RESCUE THE OTHERS.”

“Rescue?” Pearl felt the presence that held her begin to flex and rise upwards.

“THEY DO NOT KNOW ME LIKE YOU DO.” Something in the voice suggested a smile.

Up above, at the point where pitch darkness became simply “murky”, Pearl’s friends were floundering.

They had done very well considering, but a few weeks of practice could not match a lifetime. But they had still dived deeper together than any of them could alone.

As they all rose up, carried upon the Deep-Below’s huge tentacles, Pearl fussed over them and tended to their various injuries and needs.

“Pearl!” They all exclaimed, dizzy from the pressure. “We came to find you, but we found a monster! *And* you!”

“It’s not a monster.” Pearl smiled softly. “It is me.”

And Pearl stroked the nearest tentacle fondly.

“If you say so.” Her friends said, deliriously.

“I do.” She said. “I do.”

Pearl did not live happily ever after. At least, not exclusively. The beast that was happiness was something that she would spend most of her life trying to tame.

But she did live surrounded, both above and below, by love.

And that is not nothing.

  • Duke Abele, over the speakers during Mission 4, Clockwork Mansion: Guys, I just woke up from a dream where this massive red wave crashed down against me. It was awful. We all know I hate ships. And the ocean. That's where your guts implode and your bones sink into the bottom of the floor. I think it is downright bizarre that people actually go out on the water for fun or for business. Ridiculous. Anyways, hit me up if you hate the ocean and ships, too. Duke out.

a playlist for those who’s hearts lie at sea 

(a few of these songs are on other playlists, sorry about that!) 

Alt j arrival in nara // Of monsters and men lakehouse // Alt j dissolve me // The Decemberists down by the water // Arcade fire deep blue // Alt j bloodflood // Gorillaz Pirate jet // Gregory and the hawk boats & birds // The Shins gone for good // Fountains of Wayne sink to the bottom // The Beatles octopus’s garden //  Blondie the tide is high // Alt j Matilda // Coldplay swallowed in the sea // Steven Universe soundtrack love like you 

you can listen here

forest playlist x

space playlist x

rain playlist x 

(font consultant: drunk-april-ludgate)

(ocean picture consultant: pluto-prince

swimming pools are starting to look a lot like bathtubs.

and i guess i look okay in a swimsuit, but probably not as good as my sister. if me and her were both at the bottom of the deep end, you’d probably still ask about her first.

there is water falling from my hair, tracing a line from my eye, down my cheek. i’m sure it looks like tears. oh, the irony. that i did not cry, until i saw you. until you held me. that the moon came out, the moment you left me.

did you know that if you push off the edge it’s easier to sink to the bottom, it’s easier to hold your breath.

keep your head up, she tells me, don’t go under.
i’ve never seen anyone look so worried, for me. she looks like me, with my mom face on. with my hold my hand while we’re crossing the street face. with my putting band-aids on scraped knees, and rubbing your back until you fall asleep after nightmares have kept you awake, hands. with my this is for your own good, please listen to me baby face. the one i save for my younger sister’s bad days.
i’m so used to loving, you know. so used to giving; i don’t know why i spend so much time wondering how i got this empty.

swimming pools are starting to look a lot like bathtubs. and i think i forgot about him, because i left him in the dark; along with everything else before January. i left him with everyone, even though he never did anything to hurt me.

did you know that if you hold your breath and close your eyes, underwater, you can hear the darkness? do you know how easy it is to give in

keep your head up, she says.
i’m not used to opening myself up, to letting you in.
do you know how it hurts, to the point that i haven’t spent one night this week in my own bed. to the point that i am staring at myself in the mirror and hating who i am. do you know how much it hurts to write something like that. maybe because i don’t want to be like this, because i am tired of feeling like this, maybe because that’s such an ugly thing to admit, or maybe because i know you’re going to read this. and you hate when i say things like that. i have hurt you enough, as it is.

do you know how hard it is to find the will to live. do you know how much i just want to know, what is wrong with me. how much i want to know how to be better, how much i want this to end.

swimming pools are starting to look like bathtubs. my sister is not here to find me. my father is not here to hold me. my mother is not here to introduce me to falling water again.

my whole heart hurts. like my lungs can’t breathe properly. like they’re hung out to dry, like all this land is desert sand; submerge me in dark waters. my heart only beats evenly when i can feel it’s pulse echoed in the deepest part of the ocean. i have never been scared of drowning.