#100% sure I've seen more I just can't remember right now

[confused-beany]

When someone talks shit about a character in their native language thinking they'll get away with it but then the character replies back in the same language is just... PEAK

[legandairy-horror]

Does anyone else feel a strange sort of dread waiting for new deltarune chapters?

It sounds crazy right? I admit it's a weird feeling for sure, and I'm not even 100% sure if dread is the right way to describe it. But as more info is revealed and the next chapter inevitably gets closer and closer to releasing I can't help but feel a strange sort of, melancholy? Longing? The only way I can describe it is "when you know the goodbye is coming". The strange somber feeling when you know you’re going to have to leave stuff behind, but aren't quite ready for it yet.

warning: words. Homestuck

In 3 months Chapter 1 will be 6 years old, and in 2 months Chapter 2 will be 3 years old. Deltarune is ostensibly in Early Access but this release schedule puts new chapters closer in time scale to whole sequals if anything, which they most assuredly are not trying to be. This has created a strange situation in the fanbase that I don't think I've ever truly seen anywhere else. One where, In the time between chapters It feels like everyone has had their own chance to decide what Deltarune is to them. To create their own version of this story, to write their own themes that they want to see explored, to imagine their own events and plot twists they want to see play out.

@lynxgriffin Paper Trail Comic Being an Alternate Story following off of chapter 1

@lilybug-02 The Chara Timeline Being one of many interpretations on the popular Asriel & Chara roommates headcannon.

@huecycles Andromeda Chapters being their interpretation on the full game

The innumerable Deltarune Theorists and analysts like HalfBreadChaos, Andrew Cunningham, Stuffed Alpaca, etc. etc.

@vyletbunni Deltatraveler being a whole ass fangame based around a chapter 2 meme that it has long since outlived

And that's kinda the thing isn't it? Once more deltarune comes out, a ton of these projects will just become outdated, it's an inevitability. So what will happen to them? will they become forgotten? maybe, maybe not, it's impossible to tell. but either way it feels kinda sad to think about yknow? that one day all the time and effort spent and all the memories made might one day just cease to exist.

There's a lot more I could say on this topic if given the chance but to keep this tumblr post from morphing into a 2 hour long video essay in text form let me leave off with this.

In the age of the internet and social media there will always be a fan of something. Nothing truly dies quite like it used to anymore, regardless of whatever influencers want you to believe. But that doesn't mean things stop changing, that there wasn't a past that has since been left behind. I'm a Homestuck fan. more specifically I'm a Late Homestuck fan, one who came in after the comic had already ended and it's peak in popularity was long behind it. The fandom's still around all these years later. But it'd be foolish to admit that, 8 years after the comics controversial end, the inescapable trend of new fans replacing old fans has left the fandom wholly disconnected from the monolith that it once was. the only remnants of which lie in decades old discourse and fanfiction. Like old relics of a long forgotten city, waiting to be excavated under a fine layer of dirt.

Before I close out here I just want to make it clear: I'm not saying that we should be trying to return to some nebulous "glorious past" that never really existed. I'm not trying to deride Toby Fox for not working in the sweatshop hard enough to produce more content™, or whatever you wanna try and spin-doctor this post into. It's just a thought that creeps into my head every now that I wanted to share, see if anyone feels the same, yknow?

Besides it's not all doom and gloom. For those of you OG Homestucks who read till the end. You remember Heinoustuck? Guidestuck? Nightfall? Fucking Ke$haStuck? yeah those are still going by the way! after years of inactivity they've now started back up again. some under new authors and some by the same author but still!

You could say a lot about that but to me at least, it makes me feels hopeful in a way. That, even if not everything will survive. we'll at least have some mementos to remember what came before.

[prettynice8]

Can you do a male reader cuckold? (Y/N) & Bakugo are in a relationship, and (y/n) gets railed by Izuku in front of Bakugo? Maybe as revenge for years of bullying? Thank you!

That's so cute

AGED UP! Izuku Midoriya x male reader (Bakugo x male reader)

This guy

Stuff: Cucking (DUH), swearing, smashing, Bakugo is a cuck lol, cheating but make it cute, Izuku is kind of a schemer, smashing, bottom reader, top Izuku, marking, reach around, full nelson.

TW: there is cheating and cucking, Bakugo is a little abusive

Word Count: 2,098

Notes: I kind of hate Bakugo so this is actually quite therapeutic.

Bakugo was a total fucking asshole. He didn't care what people thought, they were all simply extras. He didn't give a single fuck about anyone, except you.

You were practically his whole world. All he thought about now was your bright smile, enchanting eyes, and wonderful body. He was simply obsessed with you.

You were his new motivation for being a hero now, instead of being the best he mostly just cared about protecting you. Though even you never stopped him from being a total asshole to everyone around him, not even his love for you could stop that.

He still bullied Izuku to absolute filth, still calling him Deku and useless and an extra. Telling him to kill himself and just real heinous shit while you tried to get him to stop, which is the main thing Izuku would remember from the harsh bullying... you.

Sure, the words still stung, but the fact that you, Bakugo's own boyfriend, had tried to stop the cruel fighting. The way you would check up on Izuku made his heart swell, the fact that such a beautiful thing cared about him was heart swelling.

Such a shame you're dating a total fucking dick.

It wasn't particularly dramatic to say Izuku was in love with you, and it wasn't particularly dramatic to say everyone knew. The way he stares at you from across the room, the way he always tries to talk or hang out with you as much as possible, and the way he constantly showers you with compliments and favors. He would always just say that you're his friend so why wouldn't he buy you 100 dollars' worth of stuff, that's what friends do.

You never really thought much about it, he's been your friend for so long, before you even started dating Bakugo, so it's normal how Izuku would always stare at you for a little too long, or how his touches were always a little more lingering than necessary, but Bakugo on the other hand.

He fucking hated how obvious Izuku was about his affections, acting as though is feelings for you were merely platonic. He couldn't stand how you would still hang out with him, which caused many fights, just like the one you're having with him right now.

"I don't see the problem." You stated, confused on why Bakugo was still yelling at you for hanging out with Izuku.

"The problem is that you're a fucking idiot who can't see he clearly wants to fuck you!" He yelled, furious at your naivety.

"Friends don't just do the things he does, I've seen the way he looks at you, the way you let him touch you and it just makes me sick!" He shouted out, his frustration ever growing.

"He's been my friend longer than I've dated you, you can't just expect me to drop him because you're insecure." You exclaimed, growing tired of his constant jealousy.

"INSECURE?! You listen here! The problem isn't me being insecure, the problem is that you're a fucking slut who doesn't see the most basic shit in the world, like how he clearly wants to fuck that already used asshole of yours!" Bakugo yelled out, saying anything he can to hurt you, so you'll come to your senses.

You have no words to say to him, you stand there utterly speechless and in shock at his harsh words. Finally, a sound comes out of your mouth, but not an apology like Bakugo had hoped for, but sobs, sobs that get choked out from the tears that are rushing down your face.

Bakugo wants to reach out and hold you, try to comfort you, but his pride and anger are far bigger than his care for your feelings at the moment.

"Of course you're fucking crying, god you're such a little bitch, why do I even bother with you." He said coldly, his pride getting the better of him.

With that you finally storm off from the conversation, after having had enough of his jealous and cruel antics. You run off into the hall of the dorms until accidentally running into a very special someone.

"O-oh god, are you okay y/n?" Izuku asked kindly and with genuine concern, holding you in a tight hug while you cry into his broad chest.

You were still rather speechless, and even if you tried to talk the words would only get choked down by your sobs; so, you stand there crying into the Izuku while he tries desperately to comfort you, running his hand through your hair (or scalp if you're bald and beautiful).

After a few more pets of his hand, you eventually pull away and prepare to speak. "Shit, sorry for making your shirt all gross." You apologized.

"You're fine, I only care about why you were crying." He replied, his concern for you overshadowing any care for his clothes.

"Bakugo is fucking dick, that's what." You stated, your previous sadness having now grown into righteous anger.

After you said that a wave of understanding and pity washed over Izuku's face, but also a hint of... joy.

"Yeah, Kachan can be a little.... rude sometimes." Izuku understated, clearly wanting more to say.

"He's a fucking heart breaker who I want to die." You said coldly, you upset feelings being fully angry at this point.

"Don't say that he's your boyfriend." Izuku stated, though he secretly enjoyed how angry you were getting over Bakugou.

"I just want to hurt him back, like with what he did to me-" You were going to say more until you were suddenly interrupted by Izuku's lips on your own.

You were so stunned that you didn't know what to do, so you just stood there in shock, unable to do anything to be kissed by him. Izuku realizes your stunned expression and pulls away.

"Fuck, sorry, I just thought..." He apologized, looking into your eyes with his own pleading and hoping you won't be too mad.

"Thought what?" you asked, not particularly mad at his actions, just surprised and confused.

"Well, I thought that if you wanted to hurt Bakugo, I have pretty good idea for that." Izuku stated, the gears turning in his head.

"How?" you asked again, your interest officially piqued.

"I was thinking that he gets awfully upset whenever I'm around you, so..." He let on, hoping you'll get the hint.

"So, like, kiss me when he's around." You replied, looking intently at Izuku, with all this mischievous planning of his you're finally realizing how... hot he is.

"I was more so thinking; he walks in on me fucking your brains out." He answered flatly, as one does.

You're face erupts in blush at the thought of having sex with Izuku, not only do you get to piss of Bakugo, but you also get to fuck the guy that's looking hotter by the minute. The nice and timid boy Izuku used to be is seemingly overtaken by this new bold, horny, and incredibly sexy version, not that you're complaining.

"But how do you know he'll walk in on us?" you asked, still a little confused on how the plan is actually going to work.

"Just leave it to me." He said before going back to kissing your lips.

Instead of standing there stunned like the last time, you reciprocate the kiss instantly, wrapping your arms around Izuku's neck, pulling him closer in and deepening the kiss. He responds by picking you up bridal style and leads you both to your room, his master plan already set in motion.

Izuku gently lays you on the bed and goes right back to kissing your lips, in which you open your mouth so his tongue could enter, which he takes instant action at, shoving his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch.

The kiss is so passionate that you can't get enough, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding your now hard and clothed dick against his own. He responds to this by doing the same, syncopating the rhythm with your own.

But just grinding isn't near enough, within an instant he strips you both naked, that superhero training being used in ways All Might never thought possible.

With both of you now being completely naked, there was nothing stopping him from putting his achingly hard dick into your readily awaiting ass.

But before he can get to the fun part, he knows he has to do the nice thing and prepare you before just shoving it in like Bakugo did.

He starts by inserting one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out until you're ready for a second one. With two fingers he opens you up more and more, until he's even able to fit 3 in. With that he stops adding more and sticks with fitting three of his fingers inside you.

Once he believes you're ready for the real thing, he takes all three of his fingers and looks into your eyes sweetly.

"You ready?" He asked, knowing that his cock might be a bit difficult to deal with.

"Yeah, I'm so ready." You answered, touched that he asked, something Bakugo never did, and a little worried about having to fit such a fat cock inside you, one that's much bigger than Bakugo's.

With your words he starts putting his massive dick into your evidently tight hole, since he can barely even fit the tip in. He starts laying little kisses all over your face before finally meeting your mouth, which he deeply kisses. This kiss is very different from the previous ones, instead of lust and passion it's all about love and pleasantness, relaxing you enough to where he can fit a little bit more of his cock in.

He starts slowly going in, deeper and deeper until finally he's able to bottom out inside of you, his entire cock filling you up very nicely. Izuku stays like that for a while, waiting for you to fully relax with him inside you. He stares at you awaiting a response, until you finally nod, and with that he is raring to go.

He starts with slow thrusts, wanting your hole to get more acquainted with his cock, but eventually he starts to find a quicker and steady pace.

As he goes faster you moans get louder, his massive cock hitting your prostate with little to no effort. You look up at Izuku and notice how sweetly he's staring back at you, his hands cupping your hips with a bruising grip. His eyes look so kind, even though he's wrecking your insides you can't help but look back at him with the same look.

This all goes out the door though when you hear footsteps coming along, which leads Izuku to forgo the nice thing and just start destroying your asshole.

He rams into you at near inhuman speeds, hitting your prostate hard with every quick thrust, his cock almost splitting you open. He continues this insane pace and power even after the door opens.

As if on cue, Bakugo walks in right as you cum, hard, all over Izuku's chest, Izuku isn't far after, cumming deep inside your hole. After that Izuku picks you up into his lap, facing you towards Bakugo. His cock quickly hits hard again as he slowly picks you up full nelson style and sits you back on his dick, his rough and calloused hand coming to wrap around your newly hard cock, all the while looking Bakugo dead in the eyes.

"Hey, Bakugo." He states, using his real name and not the stupid nickname he would usually use, but that's not the only thing that's changed. His cute smirk is now a devilish grin, and his voice is deep and almost chilling, making you even more horny for the man.

Bakugo does nothing but stand there in utter shock as he watches his boyfriend get used and abused by his worst enemy, this was Izuku's plan all along, since the first time he found out you started dating Bakugo.

He knew Bakugo would be a terrible boyfriend, and he knew you would immediately come to him if you ever had a problem with him, after all he was your best friend, so why wouldn't you. He also knew that you were quite petty and would easily agree to this kind of thing, and of course everything worked out splendidly.

Everything is going exactly as he wanted, not only is Bakugo crying on the floor, but he also gets to make love to the man he's obsessed with, you.

THE END

[kalki-tarot]

A message from your future spouse

Pick one picture and allow me to tap into your energy.

Pile 1

7 of swords, king of pentacles, the hermit

"Some people are trying to let u down behind your back. Some people are trying or will try to trick you into misery, please be careful. I know I'm not in your life right now, I'll be there soon though. I'm working on myself. I will try my best to become the best so that i can protect you from everyone and everything you don't like, my love. Please allow yourself to relax and stay calm till I enter your life. Stay safe and happy."

Pile 2

The emperor, 7 of swords, wheel of fortune

"No matter how hard you or we try, we can't escape our destiny. What is meant to happen, will happen. And we need not worry ourselves about it. We can't control the things that are not in our hands. We should not even try to, because we will end up becoming a block for ourselves and our union. Take however it resonates. But you need to let go of control and be in a flow state. Don't block what is meant for you. You will end up creating more problems."

Pile 3

The fool, nine of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, tower, Temperance

"I'm working day and night, so that i can provide for us. I want to give you a lifestyle that you deserve. Call me a fool for running behind materialistic things but i can't see you struggle because of me. I just went through a big tower moment and I've seen how worse things can be. What's wrong in getting some finances ready behind us? I don't know what comes next, but I'm sure things are getting aligned for both of us. Just be there."

Idk the energy was a bit scattered so the messages were kind of mixed up. Yellow can be significant color.

Pile 04

The moon, three of pentacles, 5 of swords

"This emotional and hurtful period of separation will end soon. Look at the lessons it thought us! We have become better individuals now. Better than who we were yesterday. The war will end soon and things will definitely calm down. It's just that my energy is too scattered right now that it's stopping us from coming into union. But I'm working on myself, I may be slow, but it's better to take things slowly and make it last forever."

They have fire signs in their chart.

This reading is only for entertainment purposes and is not 100% correct. Kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest as it's a general reading. Remember your life in your own hands. These are just predictions and can be inaccurate.

[kaciebello]

Pigeon ball invitation

Masterlist Badger express ★ Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff! reader (fem) Summary: Teaching Hufflepuff how to dance was not on Blasies to-do list  Warnings: no use of y/n,  Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1.1k Song: Box - NCT Dream

Blaise comes from a rich family. Yes, he knows their wealth comes from his mother's multiple husbands. But he was not going to spoil her fun. What was spoiling his however was attending all these balls and events.  And one thing he despised even more was dancing. That's why he was frustrated as we watched the Hufflepuff girl glide on the floor. His head hung low as he watched her trip over her own feet.

Why he even agreed to teach her is beyond him. Maybe she batted her eyelashes at him or promised him a free delivery service. He can't remember.

“How are you this bad? I've seen you balance on a flying broom.” He says rubbing his temples. The girl stops and looks at him with a pout. 

“That's easier.” She argues back.

“ How is balancing on a moving stick easier than moving around a solid ground.” She shrugs unable to answer him. 

Right now, she was contemplating her choice of a teacher. She could have asked any of the boys really, she just wasn't sure anyone could teach her ballroom dancing but Blaise.

“Okay, one more time. And please, try to remember the steps.” He says and waves his wand so that the music plays. The girl just sings and makes her to the dummy that has been her dancing partner for the past 30 minutes.

The first few steps are now engraved in her memory and she has no problem dancing that part. It's the twist that comes after, somehow she always manages to twist her feet together. Just as she did now, in panic she even managed to trip the dummy, making it fall. When Blaise heard the thud he did not even need to turn around.

The girl looks at him with an awkward smile. He wants to say something and express his frustration, but she cuts him off.

“Maybe if I was dancing with a human!” She hurls out before thinking. That stops him in his tracks, she's not wrong. Maybe if he has her dancing with someone she will be less likely to trip them and make them face the floor. Yes, it was like 99% she would, but not 100.

“Nobody is willing to risk their feet-”

“You could.”

“EH?” He stops in his tracks. Once again, she is right. It's starting to get on his nerves. He sighs and makes his way to her.

“Fine. But only once.” He says and the girl nods. He grabs one hand to his and places the other one on her waist. She smiles up at him, making it obvious she finally got what she wanted. Blaise just huffs.

“Don't look at your feet too much.” She looks up at him to argue but just nods when she sees his serious face. With a simple wave of his wrist, the music starts to play and they start to dance. As always the first few steps are done correctly and with no problem. 

He could see the girl was more nervous with every second they got closer to the twist. They got into positions and he listed his arms so she could twirl around. Her skirt flowed a bit. At the last second her feet tangled a bit, but Blaise was prepared. Not wanting to embrace her, and frankly not wanting to dance anymore he quickly stabled her by her waist and continued to dance. Giving her a mere second to comprehend what was happening before she had to follow his lead.

When he looked down he could see her smiling seemingly proud of herself. That prompted a smile on his face too. They continued dancing and when the song was nearing the end, he knew what he had to do.

on the last note, he stopped in his tracks and pulled her closer to her body. She did not even have time to react before he dipped her. Wide eyes met his leisurely smile.

“This was not in the original dance.” She says holding on to him for her dear life. She may be a witch but she is not immune to bruises. He just shrugs. Their faces were so close he could feel her talking before he heard it.

“I guess not.” With that, he straightens them up, but not letting her go just yet.  She just looks at him as he swings them in this makeshift hug.

“That was hard.” She whispers just enough for him to hear. He lets out a laugh that rings throughout the whole ballroom.

“Wait till you have to do in a dress and heels.” He says and takes a few steps away from her. She lets out a whine at his words. He once again laughs. Holding his hand out for her to take. He was well aware he said only once, but he hoped she did not register that and he could impress her more. She takes it, getting into positions again.

A coo is heard throughout the ballroom making them stop in their tracks. Suddenly from one of the open windows,  a dove comes down with a little paper wrapped around his leg.

“A pigeon?” he asks and the girl gives him a dirty look, before reaching into her pocket and giving the dove a treat while taking the note.

“A dove, I use them when someone can't reach me. Or when I need to deliver outside of school.” She explains making him look at her weirdly.

“We have owls?” He says and she just mumbles about it not being her style. An idea popped up in his head. He runs to his bag and quickly scribbles something on a piece of paper. He runs back and hands it to the girl. She looks at him confused and she just flashes his smile.

“I do have a free delivery, no?” he asks and she just sighs and nods taking the note from him. She goes to put it in her pocket but he stops her.

“I need it to reach my mom,” he says and her eyes just widen. Before she can ask he shooks his head and answers her.

“You have about the same foot size, she might have some shoes that would feel nice while dancing.” He says and her eyes widen again.

“How do you know this stuff?” She asks but ties the note to the dove before letting it fly away.

“God forbid man express an ounce of girlish whimsy.” He says rolling his eyes. Before extending his hand to her for another dance. She hesitates but takes it nonetheless.

“With no dipping?”

“With all the dipping honey.”

Taglist: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[raconteur-wanpi]

OK, let's talk eyebrow theory a bit.

I've seen a lot of posts on eyebrow theory, and there's probably other people who've expressed it better than me but I'd like to get my thoughts out just in case.

Anyway, eyebrow theory posits that, the direction of the Vinsmoke children's eyebrows showcases whether and which augmentations are/were successful on them. This is mostly based on the fact that Sanji's left eyebrow (our screen right) flips direction when he activates the "full power" of his mutation (or the "power of love", as he calls it).

Now as far as the rest of them go, some notes; For Reiju and Ichiji, this hasn't been 100% confirmed, and if somebody can find those 3D model screenshots again, I'd really appreciate that, since I don't remember what they were ripped off of! But even excluding those, there are a lot of panels in the manga (and anime screenshots) where it's pretty clear, despite their hair being in their way, that their eyebrows actually do have this symmetry, unlike their other three brothers. Also point to be made, that the swirls themselves are just something they all got from their father, and it's rather the strange directions they face toward that seems to be the result of the modifications.

Now for Ichiji, there is an inconsistency in how the edges of his eyebrows are drawn; there are a few cases where it matches Niji and Yonji, but whether that's a mistake or whether he "flips" like Sanji does, is unknown. It is interesting though, that the 3D model does indeed have him match with Reiju (again, please if somebody can find those again it'd be stellar).

That being said, a specific element of the theory is that their left eyebrow represents the body modifications, while their right eyebrow represents their emotional/brain modifications. If that's the case, than it'd suggest that Sanji's flip is only actually happening on his left eyebrow, the uncovered one that we get to see. This would make him match up with Reiju, which makes sense, since at the moment he is most like her, only having the body modifications with intact emotions. We can't actually know for sure until we get to see both at the same time during one of his flips.

This does, however, imply a lot of things about Ichiji if it were true, which doesn't really have any other evidence to it, but it sure is interesting to consider. Maybe Ichiji, like Sanji, isn't "consistent" and he experiences mutations, as a result of Sora's actions affecting more than just one child. He is easily the coldest and one of the cruelest of the quadruplets, but could that be him overcompensating and hiding? Perhaps that's wishful thinking, but I would genuinely find it very very intriguing if it were true!

EDIT: Here's the post with image additions, including the 3D models.

[fortunatelyuniquepeach]

141 with a partner who opens the door with their butt𓆩♡𓆪

Pairing: task force 141 x gn!reader

cw/tags: cursing, fluff.

a/n: inspired by @homicidal-slvt! . sorry for not posting much i have finals oh and HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! you're seen, you're loved, and i'm so proud of you💕. enjoy🫶🏼.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Johnny and you were setting the table to have dinner, only for you to remember you forgot drinks and your favourite sauces before sitting down.

He offered help, but you thought you could manage, and you did, in a way. You did have all you needed but you were using both hands and it left you feeling a little helpless in front of the fridge's open door before you got an idea.

Johnny was just coming to the kitchen to see what was taking you so long. He's met by the sight of you kicking the fridge's door closed with your butt. You nearly dropped everything in hand when a loud, surprised laugh comes out of his mouth.

John Price

"for fuck's sake johnny, you scared me" you say and try to sound upset but you can't help but smile at the sound of his laugh. "sorry bonnie, i've just never seen anyone close a fridge like that. you're really using 100% of that smart head huh?"

˚ ･✧･ ˚

Price has called for you in his office, asking you to bring him all the files he needs from his room, and his coffee too. You instantly did, always obeying your captain's orders.

You stop in front of the office's closed door, hands full and mouth too, how else were you going to hold the extra files?, you look around for help but you find no one, so you decide to do what you normally would do, sure your captain is used to your weird habits by now.

"oh serganet here you-" before price gets to finish, he almost panics seeing you've put your whole body weight on the door handle, pushing it with your butt to open the door, and he thinks you might fall before you stand steady.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A disappointed sigh leaves his mouth before he speaks "sweetheart, what the hell was that?", you're about to answer but your voice is muffled, and you remember to put the files down. "well it got the door opened, didn't it?"

˚ ･✧･ ˚

Ghost has finally came back home after a long, hard mission. And the same three things were in his mind, you, food and sleep. After showring you in kisses and holding you tight for nearly twenty minutes, he couldn't stand anymore, feeling like he was about to collapse if he didn't go to bed right then.

You insist that he has to eat first, knowing him and his bad eating habits, he must've been starving for hours but he's too stubborn to listen to you and ends up going to bed anyways.

You wait a couple hours before you start preparing food for him, deciding even if he still needs more sleep he can take a little break to eat. You've brought him so much food, knowing how much your big guy needs to eat.

Not only both of your hands, but your arms too have got plates full of food laying on top of them. You knows it's a risk but you go for it anyways. You push yourself up a little before you push the door handle down with your butt. It takes you a couple tries before you finally open it, awakening your partner's from his sleep.

"are you fucking serious?", is the first thing that comes out of simon's mouth, a little grumpy from having his sleep interrupted. "i just wanted you to e-" you starts defending yourself before he cuts you off, "but did you have to open the door like that?"

Gaz "kyle" Garrick

You try not to laugh but him being so upset about such a silly thing causes you to giggle. "you know, modern problems require modern solutions."

˚ ･✧･ ˚

You and gaz were out with your friends at a restaurant for the first time in a long time. You really tried to enjoy it, considering this is the first time you both got to enjoy your friends' company in about three months due to gaz's last mission, but your friends' choice of a place that was just too shitty didn't allow you to do so.

the smell of the whole place, the tables that looked like they were 100 years old, the babies' crying and the food spilled on the floor really weren't going to let you have a good time. Lucky for you, your friends decided to go home early, meaning that you would too.

Relief washed over you as you were finally going to leave but feeling bladder pressure, you let out a whine knowing you were going to have to use the restroom since your house was 45 minutes away.

You tell gaz that you have to go and seeing your anxious face, he decides to go with you. Unsurprisingly, the bathroom's door handle was covered with god knows what, there was no chance either of you was going to touch it. You'd rather stain your pants than your hands, so you lightly sit at the door handle, using the pressure your butt is applying to open it.

gaz has too many questions, but knowing your absurd techniques and ways he just laugh at you, shaking his head in disbelief. He grabs your face kissing you gently, before he laughs again. "you just always amaze me with your bright ideas, baby".

[noramoons]

what lies beneath | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren au, artist!reader

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, slight horror themes, mentions/descriptions of food, Family Issues as a plot point (💀)

word count: 13.5k

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

You had been sure of several things before you spent the summer at the beach with your cousins.

One, that you were not an "outside" person. You couldn't stand fishing, you hated lying underneath the sun to tan—you could swim well enough, you supposed, to keep yourself afloat—but that was it.

Two, that there was nothing more embarrassing than being a tourist in a town you'd practically grown up in.

And three, that sea monsters of any kind were absolutely, completely, 100% fictional.

It was fun to pretend as a child, sure—you remember plenty of summers playing in the ocean with your friends, or listening to your uncle tell scary stories to you and your siblings about the creatures he'd seen in his time in the navy or deep-sea fishing—but that was it. Pretending. You knew that just as well as the rest of them did.

Which is why it's now somewhat embarrassing to be back here—spending yet another summer with your extended family, and now seeing your younger cousins now running up and down the side of your uncle's small pontoon boat. "Fish-man!" one of them cries out, pointing towards the water. "I saw it! I swear!"

The other one nods. "He was huge!"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel behind you. "I bet he was! I always heard they like to catch the sides of the waves the boats make for speed—can't get too close, though, or they'll get chomped by the propellers!" He makes a chomping gesture by opening and closing his fist, and your cousins giggle.

"You heard?" you ask, turning around from the seat near the bow. "I thought you always said you'd seen those fish-men with your own two eyes back in the day, Uncle."

He smirks at you. "Those were the deep-sea days. I've never seen any creatures this close to shore, but who knows?" he shrugs, winning at you. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn back around, the spray of the saltwater coming up on either side refreshing enough to distract you from the stories your cousins are now hurriedly making up behind you.

The rest of the day is decidedly less painful; your uncle is considerate enough to let you stay on the boat when he anchors it on a nearby island, so you're able to at least attempt relaxing while your cousins run amuck on the shore. By the time you're finally pulling back in to the dock behind your uncle's house on the bay, you can already see the hues of pink and orange growing in the sky as the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon.

Your cousins make a mad dash for the house once they're within leaping distance of the dock, and you let out an exasperated sigh when you realize it's just you and your uncle left on the boat. You know exactly what that means—all the work's been left to you.

He grins at you. "You remember how to tie her to the dock, don't you?" As if this hasn't been your job on-and-off for the last ten years.

You offer a faint smile in response, but you keep yourself from saying anything negative while you pull out the ropes from beneath the seats, tying them into the knots you know from memory around the poles on the dock. You don't want to complain in front of your uncle—he's never been anything less than kind to you, especially letting you stay at his house this summer out of nowhere when you told him you needed a place to stay for a while, even when it's been over five years since your last summer here. No questions asked, although you're sure he's curious.

You might tell him the truth. Eventually.

His voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. "If you've got it covered, I'm gonna head inside and start on dinner."

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. "What are we eating?"

He smiles at you. "Guess you'd better hurry up and find out."

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don't complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it'll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it's then that you see it.

There's a face in the water—and it isn't yours.

No. You're seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it's not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thoughts out of your head of what you know you couldn't have possibly seen.

When the knot's finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you'd been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as you peer over the edge of the dock—and it isn't your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don't know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren't sure. You're finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It's then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That's strange—you'd been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you've just awoken from a dream. You don't know how you've gotten here so suddenly, but you've definitely moved—you've turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it's gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

Your mind races to find an explanation. You've been in the sun for hours. You must not have had much sleep last night. Your cousins are driving you insane and they've finally pushed you past the brink. One of those, surely, has to be the answer for whatever the hell you've just seen.

It's all you can think about during dinner—you hardly touch the clam chowder your uncle had prepared. He notices the small helping you've poured for yourself when you sit down at the table, and you see him frown out of the corner of your eye. "Feeling alright, Y/N?"

You nod quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine. Think I might've been out in the sun for too long today—I'll probably just get some water after dinner and head to bed."

He nods, visibly relaxing at your words. "Ah. That certainly can happen—I saw far too many colleagues faint back in the day after a long shift. It's brutal, that sun. That reminds me of one particular instance, actually—couldn't have been less than twenty years ago, I'll bet, when..."

He launches into another fishing anecdote, much to the delight of your cousins, while you continue to mentally spiral for the duration of dinner, locked in your own thoughts and what you know you couldn't have possibly seen. Your behavior, however, means your uncle doesn't mind at all when you go up to your room early—and when night finally falls and everyone else has gone to bed, no one notices you creeping back downstairs, either.

You have to know. You'll never be able to go to sleep tonight if you can't confirm whatever the hell you saw in the water earlier.

Your stomach interrupts your thoughts, piercing the quiet living room with an unfortunate grumble.

"Shit," you swear softly to yourself. You're hungry—it's no wonder. You barely ate dinner, and you only picked at a few snacks on the boat earlier. It certainly won't assuage your fears if you scare away whatever that thing was if your stomach growls the minute you step outside.

You quickly grab the first thing your eyes land on out of the first shelf in the refrigator—an apple, before finally striding over to the door and making your way back outside as quietly and nimbly as you can.

You practically run back to the edge of the dock, peering into the inky blackness of the water illuminated simply by the moonlight, only to find your own reflection staring back at you. There's nothing.

And you want to be reassured by that fact. You had to have been seeing things earlier, then—a result of the afternoon spent under the blistering sun, doing things to your eyes and your mind, and yet—

You have to check. You'll just dip a toe in, maybe—you're already barefoot, anyway. Nothing bites at your toe when you do, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting the waves lap at your skin.

Well. You suppose to be really sure, you'll have to get in the water. It feels much better now than it did earlier today, you think as you lower yourself in up to your waist, still holding onto the dock with one hand, apple in the other. You don't remember the water ever feeling this good—this inviting. You wonder what it would feel like to go all the way up to your neck. Maybe even to go all the way underwater, to feel it enveloping every inch.

That last thought particularly entices you, so you let go of the dock, holding your hand (and the apple) above the water while you submerge the rest of your body beneath the waves. You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater. Does it even matter, though? It wouldn't be so bad to stay here like this forever—

"...What is this?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by a muffled voice above you, piercing the silence and suddenly reminding you how long you've been underwater. Panic sets in almost immediately as you kick toward the surface, gasping for breath when your head breaches the waves again, breathing in sweet, fresh air as your arms attempt to tread water.

Well—arm. Singular. Someone else is holding on to your other arm, you realize far too late—the arm that's currently clutching that poor, stupid apple. A hand is wrapped around your wrist, and you feel dread sinking through your chest when your eyes follow the hand back to its owner. Perhaps that dread is why you aren't at all surprised when you once again lock eyes with the creature from earlier, this time his head and chest above water.

He looks at your sputtering form, unsurprised, before turning back to stare at the apple in your hand, head tilting to the side. "What is this?" you hear him repeat. His voice is incredibly raspy—as if he hasn't used it in years.

His lack of recognition towards you is almost irritating—as if he's disappointed that you exist. "...What?" you finally ask.

He brings another hand out of the water to tap at the apple. "This," he says. "I don't know what this is. Tell me."

You're still struggling for breath. "I...I'll tell you what it is if you let me back onto the dock."

He turns back to face you—quickly, head shifting far too quickly for something human. "No," he says, grip on your wrist unrelenting. "Tell me what it is."

Shit. "It's an apple," you say, frustration suddenly blooming in your chest. You're going to die because of an apple. Because you couldn't be bothered to eat your uncle's clam chowder for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you ever get out of this, you swear on every god listening that you'll eat second helpings of every meal that man makes for the rest of your life. "You eat it."

Apparently you eat it to this creature means you can eat it—because he's lunging forward suddenly, bringing his teeth that look much more like that of a shark's than like the teeth in your own mouth onto the apple in your palm, tearing away a bite and swallowing it whole. God, you hope you aren't about to meet the same fate.

He makes a face, turning to look at you. "It's weird."

You heave a sigh. This is insane, you think. Maybe you really did lose your mind earlier on the boat—it's all your cousins' fault. Has to be. Hearing that constant, nonstop chatter about the overseas vacation they just went on (their third this year alone), and the toys the twins got for their birthdays, and the teacher at school they really don't like, has finally made you snap. "I don't know what to tell you," you say. "You said you'd never had it before. And you're stealing—I was going to eat that."

He lets go of your wrist from his damp grasp. "Hmm. You can have the rest of it, I guess."

He has let go of you. Every logical nerve in your body is screaming at you to start swimming, to pedal back up to the dock as fast as you can and scream for your uncle—but you don't. He let go of you. He had just wanted the apple.

You stare at him. You'd been right before—every feature of his is far too sharp to be human. The edge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones—everything except his eyes. They're dark, as dark as the night sky behind you, but they're soft. They hold none of the sharpness of what you can see of the rest of his body.

You think back to the beginning of the day—to the stories of the fish-men your uncle had tried to spook your cousins with as you drove around the inlet. Damn him to hell—he was right.

You aren't sure who you're angrier at—him, for being correct about something so utterly insane, or you, for not being smart enough to realize he was telling the truth.

The creature in the water notices you staring at him. He blinks at you, tilting his head to the side. His gaze hasn't left you for a single instant, but there's something else spreading across his face now, tugging up the side of his lips in a faint smile.

"You aren't afraid," he says now, the rasp in his voice gradually beginning to ebb away.

You notice him watching your arms treading water now, apple bobbing beside you, but you don't say anything about it. You also don't say anything about how he isn't treading water but is still staying perfectly afloat—something else is propelling him to stay upright. And you think you may have an idea of what it is. "I...I don't know. I don't think so," is the only thing you can offer in response. "I don't know what you are."

He thinks for a moment. "A...a siren was what your people called us the last time we went to the surface."

A siren. You'll admit you didn't always pay constant attention in school, especially reading the Odyssey nearly three years ago, but you have a clear enough recollection of what these creatures were. Their entire purpose was to lure sailors to their deaths with their charms, wrecking their ships with a few words of a song.

"We couldn't come up to the surface very often then," he adds thoughtfully, remembering. "Too much of that black smoke in the air. That's what my father said, anyway."

Black smoke? You're confused for a moment before it dawns on you—you distinctly remember your uncle telling you that the railroad used to lie almost perfectly adjacent to the bay his house now resides on, back in the day before they'd decided to reroute the tracks to make room for the neighborhoods they were building. And if the trains the siren in front of you remembers were still billowing out black smoke...

Christ, how old is he, anyway?

"I'm supposed to drown you," he says plainly.

You furrow your brow at him. "You can try, I guess. I used to be pretty good at swimming."

He laughs at that too. The sound of his laugh is unbearably musical—light and gentle and not at all comparable to the rasp his voice had been at first, nor is it fitting for a creature who had just said he was here to kill you. "I almost did. That's how you ended up in the water—don't you see?"

Oh. Fuck. He must have been in your head, practically—convincing you to get in the water. It's what'd he done earlier in the day too, you realize—when you'd gotten in all the way up to your ankles without realizing. "How...how'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "I just hum. Some of my brothers are good at singing, but I think humming does the same thing at a much quieter rate. Harder to get caught that way." 

"Does that happen to you often?" you ask. "Getting caught?"

He seems to ponder that for a moment. "No. I...I didn't have any plans on telling you this, but I've never actually drowned anyone before. You've been my first attempt."

You scoff at that. "I guess you're not a very good siren, then."

He stares at you, and you wonder for a split second if you've just made a fatal mistake by running your mouth, like you always do—but the edges of his lips quirk up in a strange smile. "That's not all we do, you know. We were the record-keepers of the ocean, back in the days before that fool Homer decided to only focus on our...occasional people-drowning habits. Once you become known for something, no one really cares what you used to do."

You blink at him. "Sorry, I...are you trying to make me feel bad for you? After you tried to drown me?"

His smile widens. "But I didn't drown you! I decided not to. Because I wanted to know what that was in your hand." He looks down at the apple bobbing in the water between the two of you. "Do you have anything else like this?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Why? Do you want to go through all the fruit in our fridge and take a single bite out of each one?"

He cocks his head slightly at you. "Why would I do that?"

Because it's what you just did, you want to yell at him—but you don't. Some semblance of common sense must be returning to you, now that you know you aren't in mortal danger.

He continues anyway. "I want to go back to our record-keeping ways. I like learning things. I've never spoken to a human before now—I've already learned so much. I know what an apple is. I know how easy it is to tell you to drown yourself."

You try to ignore the way your blood freezes cold for an instant at that last comment—and the way he gives you a knowing look after it leaves his lips. You think you may have a better understanding of what your situation is, now. "So you decided not to drown me because you wanted to know about the apple. You...you're only going to keep me alive if I keep bringing you things that you find interesting?"

But he shakes his head no. "You can go back up to the land now. I won't stop you. I was just suggesting that you'd think about doing me a favor, since I did one for you."

Deciding not to drown me isn't much of a favor—but you keep that to yourself. "You really wouldn't stop me if I went back up the dock? If I never set foot in the water again? Won't you...I don't know, get in trouble with the siren police or whoever you answer to?"

A bemused expression flashes across his face. "No, I don't answer to anyone. We used to travel in packs—and I think some still do, especially in the southern sects of the Pacific, but most of us are solitary, now. I do whatever I want."

“Must be nice," you reply before you can think to stop yourself.

He frowns a little at that. "What do you mean? You're the masters of the world as we know it, aren't you?" There may be a little edge of mocking at the end of that sentence, but neither of you comment on it.

Instead, you take one arm out of the water briefly to try to wave your words away, accidentally flicking a few drops of water on his face—but he doesn't even flinch. "Look—I shouldn't have said that,” you say.

"Who could possibly be telling you what to do?" he asks again. "I'm serious."

Now you do let a small laugh pass your lips. "You'd be surprised."

He just blinks. "Surprise me, then."

He did say he liked to learn. "Listen, I can't—" You cut off your own sentence when you see a light on the second story window flick on out of your peripheral vision. Shit. "I've got to go."

He casts his gaze upwards to the soft light emanating from the house. "I see," you hear him say as you plant your elbows on the edge of the dock, hauling your body back up to the wooden surface. Once you're out of the water, a sudden thought occurs to you—you never even asked the siren for his name.

Who cares? a voice in your head cries out. Your conscience, most likely—whatever scraps of common sense you have left. That thing was going to drown you. You don't need his name; you're never going to see him again.

Well—that you aren't entirely sure of, even if you may not be completely prepared to admit it. As much as you had apparently intrigued him, he had certainly kept your interest too. For crying out loud—he's a goddamn siren. How often did you get to have a sit-down conversation with a sea creature you had been perfectly convinced wasn't real an hour ago?

Even more intriguing, you think, was that air of freedom about him. I do whatever I want, he'd said. You can't imagine the last time anything like that left your mouth—or if anything like it ever had. You're drawn to that feeling of freedom—either out of jealousy or a desire to live vicariously through it, you aren't sure. But you do want to experience it again.

So you turn back around, the question of his name on the tip of your tongue—but it never gets any further. By the time you're looking back into the water below you, he's gone. Had you imagined the entire thing all along, you wonder for a brief instant?

But that thought shatters when you hear a splash to your right, at the very edge of the canal before it opens back up into the ocean, and you see the edge of a long, blue tail flicker in the moonlight before it disappears below the surface.

You let out a short laugh of disbelief at the sight. And the small smile that lingers on your lips—even as you hurry back towards the house, open the back door as quietly as possible, hurry back upstairs, throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, and jump back in your bed in a fresh pair of pajamas—doesn't fade away for quite some time.

Three days pass before you see him again.

You'd run out to the dock three nights in a row after everyone in the house had fallen asleep, peering into the water only to be met with the ripples of your own reflection staring back up at you. Disappointed, you had trudged back to the back porch and snuck back up to your room, lingering confusions about that damn siren swirling around in your head. You won't go check again tomorrow night. That entire meeting with him was apparently a one-time thing. It was a miracle that he'd let you live, anyway—a miracle that you aren't ever supposed to see again.

You still find yourself padding down to the dock on the fourth night—and this time, you aren't alone.

There's an apple sitting on the very last wooden plank on the end of the dock, water dripping off the edge and forming a small puddle around it. You almost let out a laugh at the sight, but it's swallowed by the yelp you accidentally let out when the siren's head emerges suddenly from beneath the surface. He stares at you, unblinking as he hauls his forearms onto the edge of the dock, propelling himself forward to look up at you.

"You're surprised," he says.

You take a breath to calm yourself before speaking. "You're observant."

He blinks once. Twice. "That's for you," he says, gesturing towards the singular fruit on the last plank of wood. "Since I ate the other one."

You look down at the apple, deciding you're safer not asking where he got this one—and then you look lower, peering down off the edge. The siren has pulled himself up to rest against the dock, which means he's only about halfway submerged into the water now. You see his arms, crossed on top of each other to support him resting on top of the dock. You see his chest, his abdomen, droplets of water still rolling down the toned muscles. And you swallow the gasp that threatens to escape you when you finally lock eyes on the dark blue tail that begins past his waist, swishing back and forth as it glistens with every beam of moonlight it reflects.

If he knows the cause of your sudden amazement, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he speaks again. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

You manage to pull your eyes back up towards his. "I, um...I realized I never got your name the other night. I figured you didn't just go by 'siren.'"

He smirks. "No, I don't. But I've never had to say it out loud before, like this." He thinks about it for a moment. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong. "Hongjoong," you repeat. 

You aren't sure if it's the moonlight playing tricks on you, or if his cheeks really do twinge a shade pink at the repetition from your lips. "What's yours?"

Now it's your turn to smirk a little. "You won't, like...gain some kind of terrible power over me once you know my name, right?" You think you remember reading about the fae having that kind of ability in school, but that was ages ago. And at the time, you didn't think you'd ever need to remember information about creatures you were certain didn't exist.

The siren—Hongjoong—shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I can look into it in our historical records though, if you'd like."

You shake your head quickly. Probably better off not knowing.

But you do tell him your name, and he smiles too. "Pretty," he says, and you think you understand how someone like him could talk someone like you into walking off a boat—but the thought doesn't scare you the way it might have the other night. He's so beautiful, you're realizing—almost impossibly so. To hear him say he thinks you're pretty, or at least your name is, almost makes you want to laugh.

Hongjoong pulls you out of your thoughts when he taps the space on the dock next to the apple with one hand. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Oh. "Oh!" you say, bending over to pick up the fruit. "Sure. Thank you for bringing this to me—" and then, before you can stop yourself from the most sudden and peculiar act of boldness in your entire life so far— "do you...I don't know, want anything in return for it?"

He seems taken aback by your proposition at first, but only a moment passes before that soft, self-assured grin appears across his features again. "What would you want to give me?"

Christ. Why did you say that? "Well—um..." You glance down at your shoes with wet sand still caked to the sides, the green charm on the end of one shoelace, the fraying ends of the jacket you'd hastily pulled over your shoulders before walking outside tonight, before you see—

You quickly work it off of your wrist and hand it over to him. "Here," you say, sitting down at the dock's edge and handing Hongjoong the bracelet you've been wearing since you came to your uncle's house this summer. "You can keep it."

Hongjoong takes the bracelet delicately from your outstretched hand. He peers at it in the moonlight. "What is it?"

"It's a bracelet," you explain. "You can just wear it on your wrist for decoration—it doesn't have to mean anything. This one, um...it was actually from my parents, but believe me—it doesn't mean anything," you finish, trying (and failing) not to let that all-too-familiar drip of malicious venom back into your voice at the mention of the people who raised you. Who bought you this bracelet—a week-late birthday gift from your mother who had missed it while she was on a 'girls trip' in Italy. And yet, you still turned out like this—

Hongjoong continues studying the bracelet, poring over each individual charm. If he notices your attitude about your parents, he doesn't say anything—but after that first conversation you'd had with him, you think he may understand what you mean anyway.

The silence is starting to make you drowsy, so you move to stand back up. "Look, Hongjoong, I'd better head back. It's late. Will I, um—" Why does he make you so nervous now? "Will I see—"

"What are you bringing next time?" Hongjoong interrupts.

You blink. "What?"

He taps the bracelet with one finger. "I'll bring something else the next time I see you, if you bring something too."

He had said he liked to learn. "Okay," you say. There's a sudden warmth in your chest at the thought of seeing him again, even despite the cool breeze suddenly drifting off from the sea. "When will you be back?"

Hongjoong tilts his head to one side, thinking. "The next half moon. It should be in a few nights. I'll need time to find something good for you," he says, grinning.

You can't fight the grin that tugs at your own lips. "I'll be here, then."

You think about how the first two weeks of your summer had dragged by. Every day had felt like an unending loop of babysitting your cousins while your uncle went to work, of making an effort to laugh at said uncle's intentionally not-funny jokes, of picking up groceries and running errands and getting lost in the monotony of the mundane—but the second half of your summer is the complete opposite.

Going out and meeting Hongjoong by the end of the dock goes from a once a week occurrence to a nightly routine. And it doesn't stop at just bringing each other different little trinkets and knick-knacks and snacks that you find—you and Hongjoong both discover that you're better conversationalists than you'd previously thought. The two of you find yourself talking for hours about anything you can think of; you learn that Hongjoong's family is several times larger than yours, and that sirens swim further south when the water gets cold in the winter ("the same as everything else in the sea with any sense," he points out). And you tell Hongjoong about you, about all the summers you spent here with your older siblings when you were all still children, about the nights you snuck out with them and went to the gas station for ice cream—both of you hanging on each other's every word.

You find yourself looking forward to seeing him all day. You're in far better spirits than you were at the beginning of the summer, your uncle teases on several occasions, but you can't find it in yourself to be bothered.

You probably could try to make it slightly less obvious, though. After nearly a month of spending almost all your nights with Hongjoong, you find yourself one midsummer day back on the pontoon boat with your cousins and uncle, looking for an island to go for a picnic on—just like you had been that day you'd first seen him. You still keep to yourself on the bow of the boat the same way you did at the beginning of the summer, but your thoughts are full of nothing but the siren, now. You'd found an unfinished scrapbook of you and your siblings from years ago in your uncle's garage last night, and you're practically beaming at the thought of showing it to Hongjoong tonight. You wonder if he'll be able to pick out which one is you in the photos if you don't tell him. Maybe you'll—

"There's something in the water!" one of your cousins cries out, pointing towards the right side of the boat.

You practically shoot out of your seat. "Where?" you ask, rushing over to her side of the boat.

She blinks up at you, caught off-guard by your sudden enthusiasm. "Um...right next to the boat." She points again with a shrug. "There was a face, but it's gone now. I swear I'm telling the truth."

You nod, giving her a knowing grin. "I believe you."

Her eyes widen, a smile growing across her own features. "You do?"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel of the boat behind you. "You mean your reflection, bub?"

Your cousin shakes her head quickly. "No, it wasn't. It was something else, I know it."

Your uncle looks back and forth between the two of you, landing his gaze firmly on you. "Well—if you see anything else, you just let me know. It's almost the end of the summer, you know," he points out. "I've kept you all under my watch this long—I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

The little girl next to you nods before going back to her seat with the rest of your cousins, but you stay planted at the side of the boat for a while with them.

It's almost the end of the summer, you know.

What's been wrong with you for the last several weeks? Befriending a siren, of all things—where did you think that was going to go? Did you think you'd get to pack him up in your suitcase with everything else and take him home? Stupid, you think—you've been completely, utterly stupid. It's the only explanation for it.

No—that isn't entirely true, either. You may have been foolish, thinking you could keep a friendship with a siren, but that wasn't the only place those feelings were coming from. You've been distracting yourself, you realize now. You're trying to run, still—from the very same thing that led you to stay with your uncle this summer for the first time in years.

Maybe you've had your fill of running. It may be time to try facing the thing you've been avoiding all summer before it's too late—which is how you find yourself alone in the kitchen later that night, holding on to your uncle's home phone with one hand while you read her number to yourself off of your own phone (you're fairly certain she won't answer if she recognizes your number on her caller ID).

You almost hesitate before punching in the last number to dial and sealing your fate, but your uncle's words float back to you again. It's almost the end of the summer. What do you have to lose now, anyway?

You finish dialing the number.

She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" She sounds slightly out of breath, as if she'd ran to catch the phone before it stopped ringing. The thought gives you a momentary sense of hope—maybe she won't hang up on you immediately once she realizes who's calling.

You take a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom," you say, slowly. "It's me."

She's silent for a long, long time—but she doesn't hang up. "...Oh," is the first thing your mother says. "I thought this was your uncle calling." You hear her take a breath, hesitating on saying what you know she's about to say. "I guess that's why you called from his phone, huh?"

You know there's no point answering that. "Mom, I...I wanted to talk to you, since the summer's almost over. I thought we could possibly talk about, um...about me staying at home for a little bit before school starts—or maybe coming home during winter break."

There's another long period of silence—and like the fool you are, you allow yourself to hope, for a brief moment, that she won't say exactly what you've known she was going to say the minute you dialed her number. "Hmm...no, Y/N, I don't really think that's a good idea." Your heart sinks, but she continues to push the dagger (that you practically handed her by making this call) further into your chest. "You know what—it's not really a good time right now, anyway. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"

"Listen, Mom, I'm—"

Click.

She's hung up.

You told yourself earlier you wouldn't cry if she did this (you knew she was going to). And yet—you still can't fight those tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids, threatening to spill over. As you try to blink them away, your gaze is drawn towards the back window—towards the head of blue hair you can just barely see at the end of the dock, waiting expectantly for you already.

God. You cannot talk to Hongjoong right now—but you can't just blow him off entirely, either. You'll make something up, tell him you've gotten sick and can't see him for a few days, and hope he'll just forget about you and find some other human to trade apples for bracelets with.

You pad as quickly as you can down the end of the beach to the dock, peering over the edge to see Hongjoong's dark eyes looking up at you. "I can't talk tonight," you say sharply. "I'm sorry."

Hongjoong frowns. "What's wrong? Did you forget to bring something? It's okay, you know. I don't mind just talking to you. If you want."

Of course that's what he's concerned about. "No," you say, somewhat shakily. "I just can't, alright?"

You move to turn around, but the siren is a step ahead of you like always. He lunges forward onto the dock, grabbing ahold of your ankle with a strength you hadn't known he'd had. You think, for a moment, that if he had really wanted to drown you that day—he could have. "That's not good enough," he replies firmly, but his gaze softens the minute he sees your face closer. "I want to know what's wrong. Please."

It doesn't take much pleading from him for you to succumb to his wishes, so you relent, turning back around and sitting down on the edge of the dock. Hongjoong props himself up with his forearms before pushing the rest of his body up onto the dock, sitting upright and facing the sea beside you, just like you—something he's never done before. Only the last few scales on the edge of his tail just barely brush the water. "Tell me," he asks again, gentler this time.

So you do.

"It's my mother," you tell him, slowly. "Both my parents, really—they planned out me and my brothers' lives from the moment we were born. We were all supposed to be doctors, or lawyers, or scientists—something to make a ridiculous amount of money for them, just like they did for their parents. It was the only way to make them proud. They sent us to private schools and paid for expensive tutoring for years to ensure it, and they only spoke to us when we did well. They didn't want children—they wanted trophies. Things they could show off to their friends who were just as selfish and conceited as them. And they got them with my brothers—they did exactly what they were supposed to. Graduated law school or got their doctorates or PhDs, and now do nothing except work and get filthy rich. I'm the last one to fulfill what my parents had planned out for us. But I guess things don't always work out the way you planned," you add, somewhat bitterly.

Hongjoong keeps his gaze fixed on you. "No," he says, as gently as the water lapping at your ankles. "They don't. And...you don't want to do what they want you to."

You nod. "That's right. I don't. I think I should get a choice in what I make of my life, not slaving away forever at something someone else picked out for me. To do something of my own volition. And I told them so—and they told me I'd be on my own, forever, because of it."

"What do you want, then?" he asks.

You feel tears brushing against the edges of your eyelashes again. "It doesn't matter," you say, trying to keep your voice as steady as you can. "I'm screwed as it is. I have enough money saved for this semester of college, but they've cut me off entirely. I tried to call and make an attempt to patch things up tonight, but she wouldn't even listen to me. I'll be coming here every other semester to work, save up for the next semester, and stay with my uncle. I'm extremely grateful to at least have him on my side, to have someone who will allow me to stay with them—but I don't know if I'll ever get to see my parents or my brothers again. And I knew that would happen," you admit, voice definitely shaking now.

"I knew that was the choice I was making when I told them I didn't want to just be a stupid trophy for them to display, that I wanted to make something worthwhile, that I deemed worthwhile with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy and that I was taking the harder route, but I thought I'd be able to just cut ties with them. Go no contact, and all that, but it...it's hard, Hongjoong," you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks. "So fucking hard. And it's so stupid. Even after all this, after she's told me she doesn't want anything to do with me, now that I've chosen to 'waste my life away' and she 'doesn't know who I am anymore—' I still care what she thinks of me, for some stupid reason. She's still my mother—God, what am I supposed to do?"

Hongjoong turns to you almost instantly, cupping your face in both hands, and the sudden touch alone almost makes your tears stop falling. "Nothing stops the flow of the sea," he says, quietly. You want to move your gaze, to move your head away so your eyes aren't locked onto Hongjoong's so intensely, but he keeps you there anyway. "You just have to keep moving through it. With it. I think it's the same with your mother. It won't immediately be better tomorrow, just like how the sea isn't immediately perfectly calm after a typhoon—but it will be better, eventually. A little bit every day, as the waves return back to their normal rolling patterns."

"You don't think it's stupid?" you ask, quietly. "That I'm still so desperate to hold on to my mother, even if she's practically already thrown me away?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "Nonsensical, maybe. But not stupid. I don't think there's anything stupid about reaching out for someone who's taken care of you. My family has always been spread across the oceans—no matter where I go, it seems, I can find someone. I think it would be a much harder life if I was told none of them wanted to see me ever again. I'd feel stranded. And I haven't lived the same life as you, so I don't know what the exact circumstances are like, but I don't think it's a stupid aspiration. Just slightly nonsensical—but I think I'm realizing that a lot of things you do—that humans do," he corrects, "are that way."

That makes you laugh, even as his words settle into your ears and you begin to feel a kind of lightness in your chest. His world is so different from yours, you think. You're almost jealous of it, in a way.

And still, when he says things will be easier, eventually—you believe him.

"What is it that you want with your life?" he asks.

You laugh a little again. "It's cliché."

Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. "How would I know what your clichés are?" His hands are still firmly cupped against your cheeks.

Now the smile that ghosts across your face is real. Genuine. "Art," you say, quietly—as if you're afraid of admitting the truth even to him. "I love drawing—always have. It's all I've ever wanted to do. It used to be my escape when I came here in the summers with my family; I'd sneak away from everyone and paint on the beach for hours until my uncle would call for dinner. I begged for paint sets as a kid for birthday presents—even stole a set of charcoal pencils from the art room in middle school once. The teacher let me keep them even after finding out," you add, laughing a little. You bare your soul to Hongjoong, the parts of you that you've tried to squash for years but have failed to completely erase—like charcoal marks on a piece of paper that just won't quite go away.

He seems to ponder this for a moment. "Could you draw me?"

You laugh, feeling like a dam of relief is beginning to break within within you. He knows what has practically been your deepest, darkest secret for your entire life, and he doesn't want to shun you forever for it. "You know, I've always heard that's the one thing you aren't supposed to ask an artist."

Hongjoong blinks. "I didn't know that." There's only a single beat of silence before he asks, "Can you draw me anyway?"

"It won't be very good," you say with a shrug, smirk still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I've never been very good at portraits. Landscapes and still life are easier for me."

He moves one hand to wrap around your wrist. "Try anyway."

The tenderness of the action coupled with his words—blunt as always, but reassuring in a way you've never known from him, never known from anyone—is enough to cause tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes again.

This time, Hongjoong notices, moving his free hand up your cheek to gently brush them away before they ever have a chance to cascade past your lashes. You see him sniff once, then look back up at you—realization dawning on his face.

"Salt," Hongjoong whispers in awe. "There's a piece of the sea in you, too."

That dam inside you breaks.

You meet his eyes, dark as the bottom of the ocean—feel the cool grip of his hand wrapped around your wrist and his fingers resting gently on your cheek, and you feel the pull towards him like the magnetism of the Earth's core.

When your lips land on his, it doesn't surprise either of you. It's a chaste, careful kiss at first. Hongjoong takes only a moment to breathe, forehead touching yours so lightly you almost wouldn't know he was there, before pulling you back to him and pressing his lips against yours again.

You've never experienced anything like it before—the tenderness of his hands on your skin, the softness of his lips on yours, his warm breath skating across your jaw. It's like he's everywhere, taking over every sensation—but not at all like that first time he had met you and influenced your thoughts. You feel fully in control right now. You're the one who's let him in.

If this is what drowning feels like, you think, you'd never complain.

You taste salt on your lips when you wake in the morning, and the sensation immediately sends a flurry of butterflies through your chest. A smile tugs at your mouth before you can even think to hide it from yourself.

Had last night even been real? Hongjoong reassuring you, kissing you so gently that you thought you might melt right into the water below the two of you—God, how could it not have been real? You could never have dreamed something like it.

If your uncle and cousins notice your uncharacteristically chipper mood at breakfast, a stark contrast to your melancholy behavior at dinner the night before, they don't say anything—but your uncle does look surprised when you offer to help load the cooler and towels onto the boat for the day.

"I've enjoyed having you here for the summer," your uncle tells you later that afternoon, when you've dropped anchor on a nearby island and your cousins are eating their lunches peacefully—the only time of the day you find that they're quiet. "Reminded me of the old days, with your brothers. It's been good to have you here."

You smile at him. "I've enjoyed being here," you admit, even if he doesn't know all the reasons why. "Thank you for letting me stay the summer. I really, um...really appreciate knowing there's someone who has my back."

His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. "Listen, Y/N. I know it's hasn't been easy after what happened with your mother—I don't know the whole story, but I'm not old and senile enough yet to not know something's up. But you'll always have a place to stay here. I want you to know that."

Your heart jumps. "Thank you, Uncle," you say. "You've always gone out of your way to make this feel like home for me, and you did the same when my brothers were here too. I can never thank you enough for that. And I—"

He just waves your words away. "That's what family does, you know? I've always felt like a bit of a black sheep living out here—compared to my sister, anyway. She always had big plans for all of you. But I've wanted this to feel like a good place for you, and your brothers, and now your cousins too—no matter what. Even when you all would sneak out for late-night gas station runs back in the day...or whatever it is you're doing now," your uncle adds, pointedly.

Your stomach twists. "I've...been taking moonlit strolls. It's helped me relax, with everything going on."

He doesn't seem convinced, however. "Honey...you know, you can always—"

But he's interrupted by one of your cousins shouting. "Jay won't give me the binoculars back!"

Your uncle frowns. "Jay, let your sister have a turn. Only fair, you know."

Jay crosses his arms, tucking the binoculars under one elbow. "No way! Every time Bianca uses these, she keeps telling me she sees somebody staring at her in the water."

Bianca scowls, lunging for him. "And I did! Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean I didn't."

Him.

After what your uncle had just said about your moonlit strolls, you restrain yourself from running over to the edge of the boat immediately like the other day—but your eyes still scan over the water ahead of you hurriedly.

You can see your uncle's gaze flicker back to you out of the corner of your eye, hesitating for a moment too long, before turning his attention back to the twins. "You guys have seen more stuff on the horizon in the past month than I saw in twenty years on the sea," he quips, forcing a tight laugh. "Might need to get you kids back to living in the city soon if you're seeing this many things in the water—not everyone's made for the sea life," he adds.

The knot of worry tightens itself a little tighter in your gut, and not for the last time this summer.

You still smuggle your sketchbook down to the pier once night falls, slipping out the back door with it tucked securely under your arm.

Hongjoong, of course, is waiting expectantly for you, peering up at you from the edge of the dock. "Is that for drawing?" he asks, and you can hear the twinge of excitement in his voice.

Your heart does a little backflip in your chest. "Yes," you admit, a little more sheepishly than you'd meant to. "Do you know how you want to pose for it?"

He thinks for a moment. "Can I sit up here with you? I want to be close to you for it."

Oh—now there are serious acrobatics going on within your chest. "Sure," you say, grinning as you sit on the far edge and watch him scoot up to sit beside you, leaning on the support beam at the very edge of the dock.

You gaze at him for a moment after flipping open your sketchbook and finding an empty page. His tail practically shines in the darkness around the two of you, moonlight reflecting off of each dark blue scale. His torso looks practically sculpted by the gods—arms and chest full of just as much unearthly beauty as his face, jawline sharper than the tip of the pencil you're sketching him with.

Not for the first time, you think to yourself how beautiful he is.

Hongjoong's cheeks turn the fairest shade of pink as you continue to stare at him, but he doesn't say a word as you begin your initial sketch. You find it slightly difficult to get the right shape of the tail flicking against the edge of the water beneath you. "Can I ask you a question?" you say instead, putting down your pencil for a moment.

Hongjoong blinks. "You've asked me questions for weeks, now."

You laugh. "This is a different one. I...I think one of my cousins saw something in the water today. When we were on my uncle's pontoon boat. Any chance you might know something about that?"

His cheeks turn pinker than before, but he doesn't flinch. "I suppose I might."

You can't bite back a grin. "Are you...following me, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong frowns a little. "I wouldn't call it that. I've...just been in the area. Keeping an eye on things. Not just you."

"Just at the same time as me."

"Right," he says, clearly relieved. "Exactly."

Your grin widens.

Hongjoong points at your sketchpad. "Are you finished with the drawing?"

You laugh a little, picking your pencil back up from beside you on the dock. "No, not even close. I've never drawn anything like you before—but I love a good challenge."

He seems somewhat pleased with this admission. "Will you show it to me once it's done?"

“Of course," you tell him, and he beams. That smile—God. You only hope you can put even a fraction of the way it makes you feel back onto the paper in your palms.

Your uncle corners you in the kitchen after breakfast the next morning. You feel yourself panicking inwardly at first, thinking he's going to continue pressing you on your "moonlit strolls" conversation from yesterday—but he just informs you that he's planning on a big seafood broil for dinner tomorrow night, as a send-off for the summer. And more importantly, he wants you to pick up a few pounds of shrimp from the seafood store in town today.

It's been a while since you ventured that far back into town—God, probably since the very first week of summer. And now your uncle is preparing a feast for the end of the season. You've never known time could pass you by this quickly.

That thought lingers as you ride your uncle's bike down the boardwalk and across the bridge, gradually making your way onto the mainland. You've put off thinking about what will happen once the summer comes to a close since that night you called your mother—but it's an inevitable fact that you'll have to leave, obviously sooner than you think. How can you even begin to bring that up to Hongjoong? Does he know, already, somehow? Will he be disappointed that he can't obtain any more knowledge from you and dip back into the sea, never to be seen again?

Your racing mind quiets somewhat when you realize you've made it to the seafood store—or shack, as it's always been affectionately known. You gaze for a moment at the neon sign outside, realizing that "THE CRAB SHACK" only has a few lights that actually work. "T E CR B S H  C K" is what the sign displays now. 

You remember that the lights didn't work when you were here years ago, either. The whole bottom row of neon was always out, meaning that the sign only read "T E CRB." You wonder if there's a meaning in that—that the sign was broken then and broken now, just showing it in different ways.

Or maybe it's just a neon sign for a seafood shack, and your suddenly gloomy mind is searching for meaning where there is none.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, park your bike, and make your way inside. The smell of seafood is nearly overpowering the minute you step through the door and doesn't fade for an instant, even after you've collected your pounds of shrimp in bags and make your way to the register in the very back. You wonder if the employee behind the counter even smells the seafood anymore, or if he's completely accustomed to it now.

He clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, God—how long have you been standing here? "Are you ready to check out?"

"Yes! Yes," you say hurriedly, laughing at yourself. "Sorry. In my own head this morning."

The cashier laughs good-naturedly in reply. "It happens." He looks down at the bags of shrimp after weighing and typing them in. "You visiting a friend here or something? That's quite a few pounds of shrimp—and I don't think I've seen you in here before."

You nod. "I'm staying with some family on the other side of the bridge. We're doing an end-of-summer broil tomorrow night."

He grins at you. "Can I come by if I only charge you for one of these?"

"If there's any leftovers," you reply coolly. "My cousins are pretty ravenous."

The cashier just laughs again, handing you the bags. "Fair enough. You have a good day, now."

"Same to you," you tell him absentmindedly—because you've noticed something in the open door behind the cashier. It's probably not meant to always be open, as it leads to a boardwalk out to the sea. Another Crab Shack employee is lining up a few crates of stock not yet loaded into the store. A couple canisters of fruit, three or four crates of sodas—and at the very end of the boardwalk, you think you might just see a head of blue hair peeking out of the water.

Shit.

You wonder as you quickly make your way out of the store, as you duck under the Sea You Later! sign at the exit, as you pedal the whole ride back over the bridge and back onto your uncle's property—a trick of the light, maybe? (When has that ever been the case this summer?) Will Hongjoong even say anything about it tonight, if it was him?

He does, of course. When evening falls and you make your way down to the dock, you haven't even taken your pencils out of your drawing bag before Hongjoong is pulling himself up beside you, gazing at you intently.

"What was so funny?" he asks, in a tone so innocent you almost think he's being genuine. "I want to know."

You make an exasperated face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hongjoong."

"The man in the store today," he answers plainly. "In the apron. You laughed at something he said."

"Nothing," you say. "I was being polite—I promise. He was the one trying to make jokes about inviting himself over. Not nearly as funny as he thought he was."

He isn't quite satisfied with that. "Did you know him before?"

"No," you tell him. "I was just in there getting shrimp for my uncle to cook tomorrow."

Hongjoong frowns. "I could've gotten you shrimp. There's plenty around that cove near the bridge."

You laugh. "I appreciate the offer—but where would I have told my uncle several pounds of live shrimp came from?"

He frowns, thinking for a moment. "The apron man wasn't too bright, I think," Hongjoong says. "I saw him come out onto the boardwalk not too long after you left—almost fell over trying to help the other apron man pick up those boxes."

His words hang in the air for a beat. Then two. "What would you have done if he had?" you ask, partially teasing and partially serious. "Drown him?"

Hongjoong ponders that. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"For what? Talking to me?" you ask, somewhat incredulously. "What were you doing watching me in the middle of the day, anyway? Just 'in the area' again?"

He crosses his arms indignantly. "I didn't plan to. I heard your laugh when I came up for air, so I wanted to know what was funny." He seems to pause on that for a moment. "You're almost a siren yourself, in that way."

Now that makes your heart stop—maybe more than he had intended it to. You have to hide the smile that threatens to creep up the edges of your mouth. "So you really aren't going to drown that poor cashier? Or me, for talking to him?" you ask,  still only partially teasingly.

Hongjoong's face softens slightly at that. "I don't think I ever really intended to. Not from the moment I saw you."

You wonder, for a split second, if he can hear your heart thundering in your chest—if he has any idea what kind of effect he has on you, siren abilities or not.

He seems to have an idea of your thoughts, either way—because he reaches for your hand, intertwining it with his. "I want to show you something."

You stare at him for an instant too long. "Where?" you ask, nervous laughter accidentally escaping you. "In the water?"

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Of course."

You give him a look. "Hongjoong—I don't know how far this is, but you know I'm not nearly as good at holding my breath as you are."

Hongjoong laughs a little at that—that bright, airy, musical laugh that almost instantly sets you at ease, reminding whatever sane parts of you are left that he's still a siren. "Don't worry," he says plainly. "I'll make sure you can breathe."

Just as always, there's no malice in his tone, no hint of a hidden plot behind his eyes, although you wonder if you would even know if there was, skillful siren that he is. Regardless, you squeeze his hand in yours and let him lead you off the dock and beneath the waves, taking one last gasping breath before your head slips underneath.

Hongjoong keeps your hand in his, tail swishing as he leads the two of you further beneath the surface—the scales across it continue to reflect moonlight as brightly as if you were still above the water, giving you just as much visibility in the dark water as if you had a flashlight with you.

What's a flashlight?

You nearly let out a yelp before you remember the two of you are underwater. That was Hongjoong's voice, no doubt about it—and it was in your head.

You can talk to me this way too, you know.

It's like he's invaded your head—his thoughts are suddenly yours. Can you always hear my thoughts? you wonder. If that's been the case all along—

But you can just barely see Hongjoong shake his head in front of you through the darkness. No, you hear him say. Only when we're here, like this. Do you need air?

God, you definitely, definitely do—the shock of Hongjoong's voice in your mind had completely distracted you for a brief moment from the lack of air in your lungs. It's nothing at all, though, compared to the shock you feel when Hongjoong cups your cheeks between his hands and presses his mouth to yours.

He's kissing you.

No—he's not, you realize suddenly. He's breathing into you, pushing air down your lungs and filling them up until you feel like you can breathe again, despite being completely submerged beneath the water.

Hongjoong pulls away after a moment. Good? he asks.

You nod—you're slightly embarrassed now, especially now that you know he could hear your confusion in your head.

And especially considering the smirk you can see on his lips right before he turns back around to push the two of you further through the water. He's well aware of the confusion he's caused.

Hongjoong only has to give you air two more times before you finally arrive at what he had wanted to show you—and it nearly takes your breath away once more.

It's a shipwreck. A massive one, sitting completely undisturbed at the bottom of the bay. The ship has three broken masts, some of the sails slightly submerged in the sand with several of the cannon openings peeking out at you, which you know can mean only one thing.

This ship is hundreds of years old. One that had clearly gone down in a fight.

Hongjoong beams at you taking in the scene. My cousins did this, you hear him say, and you nearly laugh at the clear pride in that declaration.

You think about your own cousins, playing pirates on the beach while they throw buckets of water at each other, stomping over sandcastles and leaving childlike destruction in their wake. Yeah? you finally ask. Sounds like something my cousins would do.

Hongjoong stares at you thoughtfully for a long time after that—you wonder, for a brief moment, if you shouldn't have compared your family to his in this way. You're just about to formulate a thought to apologize when you feel his lips on yours again, one hand on the back of your head while the other cups your cheek gently.

You stare at him, confused once more when he pulls back. I didn't need air, you tell him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He stares right back. I know.

Hongjoong waits to see the realization on your face before he touches you again, clasping your chin between two fingers gingerly. He's giving you a chance to push him away, if that's what you want.

It isn't.

You hold his face in your hands when you press your lips to his this time, and you can practically feel the relief emanating from him in your own mind. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as he can. Everything else—all your fearful thoughts about the end of the summer from today, your suspicions about your uncle, your constant stress about your mother—all fades away past the point of existence, and in that moment, there is nothing but you and Hongjoong at the bottom of the ocean.

"Sure you don't want to go out on the boat today?" your uncle asks the next morning. "It's your last chance for this summer."

But you shake your head again. "I got pretty sunburned across my back yesterday," you fib. "I'll watch the house here until you all get back. Do you need me to run any errands for you while you're gone?"

He doesn't quite stop himself from narrowing his eyes at you. You've been out in the sun enough times this summer that the half hour you spent in the backyard watching your cousins' impromptu performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday shouldn't have burned you at all. And you know he's fully aware of this. "...Don't know how many times I've told you kids to wear sunscreen," he says after a moment. "And reapply."

"I know," you wince. "I'm sorry. I'll put some lotion on it after breakfast."

"There's some in the closet upstairs with aloe," he informs you. "That usually speeds up the healing process for me."

"Good to know," you tell him. In truth, the only thing you plan to do while everyone is out of the house is work on your drawing of Hongjoong. You've solidified the outline, gone over it with an ink pen, but you're still trying to decide how to place the shading. You want to show the finished product to Hongjoong tonight—your last night of summer. You've put off that dreaded conversation with him until the very last minute—but you know you two will have to talk about what happens two nights from now when you're across the country, moving into your dorm room for your first night at college.

At least—you think you will be. There's a mad fantasy, of course, of staying here, of sneaking out to see Hongjoong every night for as long as you can, of running away with him somehow to some island where no one will ever bother the two of you—but it's just that, a fantasy, and you know it. Even if the entire summer has felt like a fantasy in its own way.

You don't know how that conversation will go tonight. But you want to at least be able to give this piece to him, regardless of what happens.

You're hunched over your sketchpad for hours, messing with the combination of paints for your watercolors until they're just right (or at least as satisfactory as you can get them). The scales on his tail are the hardest—you want so badly to show how ethereal they look with the moonlight reflecting off them, making him look like he's glowing from the waist down. You lay down a base color first and paint over it with different shades of blue and green, creating several different layers until you're pleased with the color's result.

Your work on the contours of his face and torso comes much easier, and the full painting is almost completely dry by the time you're heading back outside, moon high in the sky to greet you as you step onto the dock.

Hongjoong is waiting for you too, forearms resting at the edge of the pier. You roll the painting into a cylinder shape as you walk down to meet him, but you know he knows exactly what it is.

He grins. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admits, immediately, and you feel an entire enclosure of butterflies fluttering through your chest at the statement.

But you steel yourself. Take a breath. "Before I show it to you," you say, "I want to talk."

Hongjoong nods. "The end of the summer. Right?"

You raise one eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"

"I heard you talking about it. With your uncle, that first time that your cousin spotted me from the boat." He grins a little at the recollection. "I heard him say there wasn't long until the end of summer, when you'd be leaving, so—I imagined this conversation would happen soon."

You exhale, slightly relieved. At least you wouldn't have to break the news of your sudden departure to him. "And how did you imagine this conversation?"

He takes a breath now. "I know I can't ask you to stay here. That's not fair to what you want—to the choices you've made with your own family for being able to make your own life. But I was thinking—"

"Y/N!" You hear a voice cry out from behind you.

You'd recognize the sound of your uncle anywhere—and you feel your blood practically freeze over in your veins. "Get back here. Now!"

You turn around quickly, trying to block the view of Hongjoong from your uncle—but it's too late. And as you turn to face him, you see that he's come prepared for this exact situation—a shotgun raised to his shoulder now, eyes peering down the barrel pointed at you, and a long fishing spear beside him on the dock.

"Uncle," you say, as calmly as you can. "Put that down. Please."

"Get back here, Y/N," he says, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Get away from that thing right this minute and get out of my way."

You take a shaky breath. "Uncle, please let me explain. He's—"

"I know exactly what that is!" your uncle spits, pulling back the safety on the shotgun with a loud click. "A goddamn monster. You have no idea what those things do," he says, voice cracking. "I've seen men—good men, my friends taken from me, by its kind. Yanked right off our ship's railing and into their waiting mouths. It's nothing but a bloodthirsty animal that—"

"Stop!" you interrupt him with a shout, surprising yourself with the tenacity in your voice. You feel Hongjoong's hand wrap around your ankle, probably trying to tell you to stop—but you can't. You won't. "He's not a single thing like that. His name is Hongjoong. He's never even drowned anyone, let anyone killed and eaten anyone, Uncle. You have—"

"It's got you under it's spell," your uncle says, horrified. "Oh, my poor Y/N. I'll kill this nasty beast and free you from this trap."

You practically scream the next time you open your mouth. "No! You can't!" There's tears streaming down your face now, and the intensity of your emotions must be a surprise to your uncle, if the look of shock on his face is anything to go by. "Uncle—I'm begging you," you plead, sobbing. "I'll do anything. Please, please don't hurt him. He's my friend."

Something strange flickers over your uncle's features. He drops the barrel ever so slightly from being pointed at you. "Your friend, huh?"

You nod as you choke back another sob. "I love him." It's the first time you've admitted it—to yourself, let alone out loud—but you know it's the truth. Has been for longer than you've been aware, most likely.

That admission causes your uncle to drop the barrel entirely, holding the shotgun down in one hand and letting his other arm rest at his side. "My Y/N," he says, after a moment with a sigh.

"I've always wanted the best for you. I lived with your mother for eighteen years growing up, up until she met your father and had you and your brothers. I know how...how demanding she can be," he says with a laugh, one you don't reciprocate. "I know her tendencies all too well. She's my sister, and she'll always be my sister—but that doesn't mean I think she's a good person. I've tried to show you that there's a different path in life. That you don't have to do things her way. This...isn't what I thought you'd do," he says, laughing emptily again. "But I would never want to do anything that would hurt you on any level close to what I know she's caused you."

Your uncle swallows. Takes a breath. "I swore an oath," he says, steadier now. "In the navy. When I see anything like this, when any of us do—I'm honor-bound to report it. The local unit will be over here in under half an hour. Maybe even sooner."

You feel yourself holding your breath.

"So," he says, sighing as he meets your gaze down the dock. "You two...had just better not be here by the time they show up."

Before you can say anything in response—or perhaps before he can change his mind, your uncle turns on his heel and walks back towards the house.

You turn back around to face Hongjoong, sinking to your knees—and the minute you do, you feel tears streaming back down your face again.

He immediately pushes himself up onto the dock, grabbing hold of your face and brushing away the tears the instant they fall. "Y/N," he whispers. "You didn't have to do that. I...I love you. I would've gladly taken a bullet from your uncle if it meant you'd be safe."

Your eyes well with tears again, a shaky laugh leaving you. "Shit," you whisper back. "I don't—I don't know what to do, I just...just wanted to show you this stupid drawing," you say, laughing shakily. "And now I've ruined both of our lives. I'll never see you again."

"No. You haven't," Hongjoong says firmly, squeezing your cheeks in his hands.

You grab hold of his wrists. "Hongjoong—you have to get out of here. You...you said you have family everywhere, right? Go anywhere else. Please."

"No," Hongjoong says suddenly, straightening up the instant your hands wrap around his wrists.  "Where did you say that school you were going to for your art was?"

You tell him. "It's on the coast, but it's not nearly as close to the sea as we are here, I—"

He interrupts you again. "I'll find you."

You let out an unbelieving laugh. "Hongjoong, there's no way—"

"I'll find you," he repeats, hands still cupping your face firmly. "On the name of the full moon that night you found me—on that stupid apple that led me to you. I'll find you. And then, you can let me see that drawing."

He leans forward, his lips pressing against yours in a messy kiss—all teeth and salty tears and hands squeezing too tight, or maybe not tight enough—before he lets go of you, pushing himself off the dock and into the water. You see one flick of his tail before he descends deep beneath the surface, and it's not long at all as you sit there, chest heaving and cheeks stained, before the waves are gone and the sea stills, and it's like Hongjoong was never there at all.

Fall semester has left you busier than you could have ever dreamed. You've never done this many sketches in a week, never tried this many different techniques at once, never spent this many all-nighters on a single project—but you'd be lying if you said you weren't still enjoying every second of it.

Your job keeps you plenty busy, too—your roommate had been kind enough to put in a good word at the campus library and gotten you a job in the coffee shop on the first floor. You're taking as many shifts as you can, but the pay isn't bad, all things considered. You may not have to take a semester off after all.

But the diving club keeps you almost busier than both your work and assignments combined. You've already logged more hours than any of the other freshman, and some of the upperclassmen, too. If the club captain has noticed how you're always late packing up after a dive, she hasn't reprimanded you. Maybe she's noticed the unique shells you seem to always come back with, or the skip in your step as you pack up your scuba gear, rolling a shiny bracelet over your wrist—or maybe she's noticed something else, entirely.

After all—last summer, you had been so sure that there was nothing like Hongjoong living below the water's surface. Of course, that didn't mean other people didn't already believe otherwise.

a/n: happy holidays !! i hope everyone is staying warm and healthy and having a lovely week so far <3

and finally…this title escapes my wip list 😭 y’all. i have been working on this on and off since late 2021—sometimes you can have an idea, have absolutely no inspo to write past halfway through, and then write 5k in one night. 💀 no such thing as a perfect project ofc but i do hope you enjoyed this oneshot! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 🫶🫶 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore @fireheaurt

©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.

[mellowwillowy]

Olympus

You can't possibly just come here just for fun and leave everyone be once you're bored right?

Credit 🥂 (Ares, Loki, Hades by Starlxxd)

[ GN Reader but stuck with them instead of the the mystics ]

Hades

Hades = Gaslighting

The underworld may be damp but with your pressence alone, the underworld seems to be the best place Hades could ever find

Sure, 'Mistress/Lover of Olympians', but how about changing it into 'Mistress/Master of the Underworld' now?

See? Cerberus will be upset if you leave the underworld for well, the Mystics, Mortals or just play around with the other Olympians

Don't worry, Hades has made sure that Cerberus will always be there to block the way out either by having them roll around begging for your attention or just, making you ride them (hey, you have always enjoyed riding them at full speed)

"It's fun riding them right? Faster, boys!"

And you being the dense, naive one will not realize Hades' true intentions at all

You'll be sat on a throne just like him, well, except of sitting on each other's respective throne, Hades will sit on the floor with his head resting on your lap

You are his sunshine in this damp world, you are his fresh air in this damp world, you are his sweet flower in this damp world

Now now, where are you going to? Hm? Leave? You are going to leave the underworld to see Zeus again? How about a game with Cerberus and him?

Surely that King of the Gods is not worth your time so better spend it wisely on the King of the Underworld instead, hm?

"Mmh, how about a trip in the Underworld?"

"But I've explored all the places here?"

"Nuh uh, there's still more love~ come on"

Yeah he definitely did not just create something for this

If the pom is effective, he'll trick you into eating it when you are drunk from the alcohol he made you drink

If not then he'll just have to find another way to trap you here

Koei : God, if Yang Jian is the one who's gon escort you back then he'll 100% go feral once you leave lmaoo

Loki

Honestly idk much about him but he'll just be a persistent one

Will do few tricks to trick you into staying

Ah, you've seen that one? Fine how about this one? And this one?

Mmh, have you ever seen this? It's one of his many weapons. Ah, you have? How about this? And this?

"Let's play this game, shall we?"

"But we've been playing this for the whole week, Loki"

"Ah... how about this game then, here's how.."

He'll do whatever it takes to make you stay with him

Ares

Angy baby who'll bite everyone if you tell him you are going to leave

He just turns into a ticking bomb, someone greeted him and they'll have to hear him curses non stop

What do you mean by you are bored? Is he not enough as a companion for you to kill your boredom?

The mystics? Phah! Screw them, you are coming with him to this banquet

You just nod along while tailing him behind, completely oblivious with his attempts in not letting you leave

How about you join him to this one war? It'll be a nice change of scenery for you no? You won't be bored watching him fight, he promises

"Ares, I just wanna go see Hundun and have a tea with him-"

"Hmph, that ugly arrogant four-handed monster? If you want a companion for your tea party then you can just have me!"

If he won then he'll puff himself with pride and boast non stop on your face, making you sing praises to him while tending him

If he lost then you'll also still sing praises for him, just gotta make sure your wordings won't hurt him. Also since you'll give him extra special treatment whenever he lost, he won't sulk that long

You? And Aphrodite? He'll choose you over her silly

Remember how easily flustered he is when you just approached him without warning? Yeah he's still the same

"Let's ride together into the battlefield hm? Just... don't leave"

Well, it's really rare for him to be this soft considering how he just started another war to distract you

Zeus will have to give him a few words again after this

[sycamorality]

@ceruleanstarbreak okay SO

making this a post bc i love yelling about scavengers.

quick note bc im not sure where else i'd put it: eyes are either really dark, really light, bordering on white or a solid inbetween vibrant color, at least from all the scavengers i've seen and can remember.

the most common colors are grays, whites, blacks, browns and oranges - colors you'd usually see in animals irl like cats or dogs. the rarest are yellow (actual yellow and not an orange that looks yellow) and cyan. accent colors (this is just a term i use - but i use it to refer to the color that sometimes appears on frills/spines and as eartler deco, and on occasion the belly) of these two are much more common than body/head.

i have a folder of the first 11k scavengers (+ a few extra above 11k if they had colors like blue/etc so the numbers are a Little inaccurate but i think they work just fine), and the color commonality (is that a word?) goes as follows: orange - 142* pink - 100* blue - 70 red - 42* ** green - 33 purple - 32 yellow - 0 cyan - 0 *there may be more/less, this is my own view on colors. **there might be more, i'm not sure if i organized all of them yet, i wouldn't be surprised

not counting gray/brown/etc because those are extremely common

all scavengers have heads that are darker than their body, however, there is something called bodyblack that makes the body darker, and sometimes this causes the head to be lighter than the body, because techncially the head is still lighter than the body. 973 is a VERY good example of this!

scavengers also have arm blend - it is always the head color, but can sometimes look like it isn't because the blend doesn't go all the way. (their legs and tail never have a gradient) and we can't forget eartler deco! to my knowledge (i don't exactly know everything about scavenger code but i do know at least a decent bit from observing a whole bunch), eartler deco can be the same color as the eyes, or be a completely different color. eartler deco color can also be used for spine blend (which means the spine blend can also match the eyes or not), even if the eartler deco isn't visible on the scavenger. 6194, 7491 and 4572 are good examples of this!

their head color tends to not stray too far from their body, but sometimes, they do stray pretty far from it! i've noticed some combos are much more common together while others just don't exist at all (to my knowledge of course - i don't know every scavenger but i've seen a whole bunch of them). here's some examples!

whole bunch of interesting combos, yeah? the ones that are more wild like the last three are usually much rarer than the ones you see reoccuring (like the pink/orange + blue and pink/orange + green). sometimes the belly can also get an unusual color (and i'm not exactly sure how that works, it tends to seem like it has a color of its own and tends to be lighter than the body, and on occasion seemingly match the head but not exactly).

now i can really mostly only comment on 0 through 11k, but other combos i've seen (listed [body color] + [head color]) are:

white/gray + green

white + pretty much any* color

cream + pretty much any* color

yelloworange + purple or blue

red or orange + dark brown

gray + purple or blue (most commonly, but any* color is possible)

any pale color + its brighter/more vibrant variant (like pale purple + bright purple)

...and probably more, but they usually tend to match together well, unlike mr no scavnificant harassment (51620372) over here.

now, usually scavenger frills are rather. well, normal looking, and sometimes they just get SUPER frilly, but other times... they can get a little weird!

these are the best examples i have on hand right now, but i think they suffice well enough. 3222 looks like a hunchback, and 1646 has frills that do quite literally float off its body, as does 8804 (while also just having an interesting shape to them). of course there's also the frill colors that can theoretically be practically anything, and those also get wild pretty often

now these aren't the wildest i know of, but they're the ones i have images on hand of.

the rest i can't really comment on at length is the eartlers, 'teeth' (weird little shapes by their mouth) and head shape. sometimes eartlers are really thick and tall, really thin and small, or somewhere inbetween. sometimes scavengers have eartlers on the bottom of their face and sometimes they don't. sometimes two points on the eartlers visually 'merge' together, which is mostly visible if a scavenger has eartler deco, because it still applies to the separate points.

that should be all! unless i forgot something... in that case, oops, my shitty memory strikes again.

[pharawee]

So. Addicted Heroin Thailand.

A small disclaimer first: I have neither watched any of the Chinese adaptations of Addicted Heroin nor did I read the novel. No wait, that's not true. I watched a few eps of the first series years ago but I barely remember anything about it (just global pandemic things, I guess).

Also, I only watched the tv-version of the first ep, which is apparently a whole 10 minutes shorter than the uncut version (and whatever they decided to cut, it's probably not spicy - unless it involves som tam or something) but ... I really like it so far? The cheap cash-grab argument that I've seen on MDL (🙄) doesn't hold up at all because they clearly put a lot of thought into this to turn it into an adaptation that (to me as an interfan at least) feels genuinely Thai - from ror dor to the public school backdrop to Pop reciting a poem by Sunthorn Phu (fun fact: it's the same poem that was prominently used in I Feel You Linger in the Air).

I also really like the production quality. It feels light and soft, kind of nostalgic actually - and while that's not how you'd describe the tone of the original novel (which is at least somewhat dark and toxic, I believe?) I don't think it necessarily has to since it's an adaptation and not a remake.

This is only the first episode of course and if you're hesitant about how this show will navigate around the age gap of the actors in light of the mature source material I'd hold back on watching for at least a few more eps.

That being said, I'm reasonably sure that Addicted Heroin Thailand will be a lot more soft and lighthearted than the original(s) - not unlike Jinloe's last show Hit Bite Love that had the younger cast in a separate, much more fluffy storyline.

Unfortunately, some people seem to expect or even want the show to be as dark and explicit as the novel, and there's of course nothing wrong with that, except that's not really a possibility with a cast that young. Going by what I've seen of the show so far, Jinloe are aware of this and have adapted the source material accordingly.

Granted, they could have chosen another, more lighthearted novel to adapt, but personally I don't think that an adaptation needs to be 100% screen-accurate (or is it novel-accurate?) to be an entertaining watch. There's plenty of themes to focus on, after all. Afaik, Stay With Me (the second Chinese adaptation) was well-received and the main characters didn't even kiss, so why single out this production as exploitative and unsafe* before it's even aired?

*Oh, and I've also seen people explicitly bash the show for its Thai-ness which is another matter entirely.

With the way things are right now (and I say this in good faith - don't go where I can't follow, Jinloe! 🙏) I don't really see how this show could ever live up to the controversy. Right now at least, it's got gmmtv-levels of toxicity (so, uh... about none).

tl;dr: The first episode of Addicted Heroin Thailand was cute and well done. That's about it.

[notmorbid]

...best american short stories.

dialogue prompts from 100 years of the best american short stories, edited by lorrie moore and heidi pitlor.

death-bed promises should be broken as lightly as they are seriously made.

the dead have no right to lay their clammy fingers upon the living.

if you're going to snore, go to bed!

you look as if you'd seen a ghost or found a gold mine. i don't know which.

i don't expect to marry anybody.

don't ever bet on anything.

i didn’t realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and i was gone.

we've suffered like everybody, but on the whole it's a good deal pleasanter.

we were a sort of royalty, almost infallible, with a sort of magic around us.

i should think you'd have had enough of bars.

don't you want a cocktail before dinner?

i want to get to know you.

i don't really need much taking care of anymore.

i don't want you to forget.

have you got a picture of ___?

family quarrels are bitter things. they don't go according to rules.

i was caught in a trap. it wasn't set for me, but it got me all the same.

you wanted a story, so i gave you a good one.

write me a letter. don't forget. i'll be waiting.

my dreams never renege on me. they're all i have to go by.

i don't put the respect on dreams i once did.

are you sure nobody knows where i am?

i don't see why you should ever be afraid of anything.

you know i'd take care of you if anything ever happened, don't you?

don't go away. stay and talk.

you don't have to worry, you know. i wouldn't ever let anything happen to you.

i wish you wouldn't look so unhappy.

i didn't think you saw me. not at first.

how can you get away from anything here?

we're all human on earth.

we couldn't get away from each other if we tried.

i don't want to do a thing from now on till evermore.

sometimes there are about fifteen or twenty minutes in the week when i feel like myself.

i thought it might make you happy. i wanted to make you happy.

and what if they can hear us? who cares?

i thought you were too smart to get hung.

i swear if i'd known what i was doing i would have never hurt you so.

maybe it does some good if you believe it.

i hope you'll remember the things i tried to teach you.

honey, there's a lot that you don't know. but you are going to find it out.

don't you forget what i told you, you hear?

i think people ought to do what they want to do. what else are they alive for?

i can't forget where i've been, and what i've been.

i can't really talk about it. not to you, not to anybody.

don't be a martyr.

with the world in the mess it's in, it's a wonder we can enjoy anything.

if you know who you are, you can go anywhere.

buck up. it won't kill you.

i wish you'd talk to me.

don't you ever want to rest?

i think death is a wonderful thing. i look forward to it.

what tone? i didn't take any tone.

you give everyone too much. that's your trouble.

mad at me, huh?

i don't know why i did it. i'm sorry for it, isn't that enough?

god listened and didn't say yes or no.

you should have gone after them with an ax.

you've been lucky. you always have been.

i bet you're afraid of me.

why aren't you married? you're not ugly. are you gay or something?

how nice. you always try to say the right thing.

you can't seem to keep your mind on one thing for more than a minute at a time.

it's not exactly the kind of thing you can bring up over lunch.

can you keep a secret about what i did today?

i thought when i left, it would just go away.

i want more days like that.

you don't have a heart. there's nothing to love in you.

would you tell me something if i asked you? would you tell me the truth?

other people's dreams are boring.

two salaries and no kids, that's the way to go.

i always seem to miss you.

i don't think i'll ever be dead enough --- or dead long enough --- to get the taste of this life off my teeth.

your optimism always surprises me.

pick on someone your own size.

promise you won't get mad?

i could yell at you, but why waste my breath?

better late than never. i was sure i'd see you someday.

you're a regular whirling dervish.

i don't watch tv. i don't own one.

how do you connect with the rest of the world?

did you like growing up there?

i don't usually say stuff like that.

i've been getting these mixed signals from you. i can't tell if you're attracted to me or not.

you don't have to love me. i love you enough for both of us.

group sex is for teenagers.

i think our hopes are made when we are young, and we can never adjust them to the real world.

how long can you use your parents as an excuse?

a life is like a house. one has to plan carefully where all the furniture will go.

mr. grief and i went a few rounds.

if you think about fear, then you'll be afraid.

i want to be a hero, you know?

you can always trust unhappiness.

i will keep coming until you speak to me.

what brings you here after all these years?

can i hug you? i'd really like to give you a hug.

i worried about you the whole time.

i wanted to be with you all the time.

the moment you fall in love with someone, you are lost.

i had to let you make your own mistakes.

[cerberus-new-owner]

it'sssssssss tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime

Barbie Doll and Diablo

(as my friend likes to call them lol)

it took me a good few days of day dreming about barbs and scrolling through the barbatos tags (and the simeon and solomon tags) to acctually get the motivation for this soooooo here it issss

Part 1 - The Brothers Part 2 - The Angels + Solomon Part 3 - Diavolo + Barbatos

WEE WOO WEE WOO Content Warningggggsss: Darbatos and Diavolo are implied to be dating mc but it CAN be taken as platonic, GN!mc, maybe like a teensy tiny bit suggestive idk i do these before i write the hcs, could be ooc (i've never written for either of them, i dont think so atleast), mention of mamms and asmo but only tiny after thought type stuff i think

the energy is pumpinggggggg and the headcannon drabble things are a flowin'

Barbatos

w/ out mc - does not sleep, will only sleep if diavolo orders him to and if any of you have seen my take on the brothers sleeping he is the same as luci, but instead of the brothers having to be kept in line its the demon prince who does his best to sneak out when he thinks the butlers guard has been lowered enough to do so, other than that i do belive barbatos if tired enough will fall asleep standing continuing to do what ever job he was doing around the castle occsionally finishing all of his tasks whilst alseep (dia and the little d's take bets to see how far through his list barbatos can go before waking up again so far little d no. 2 and diavolo have the most wins) i also think barbatos will sleep walk into diavolos office on ocassion and just stand there like he would if diavolo was having a meeting with lucifer or mephi (i dont know how to spell his name someone help please) also no fan or ac or anything in his room im fairly sure his tail has / would have some form of protective slime kind stuff on it and that drying out would require a few weeks worth (and a couple thousands invested) of lotion applied every few like hours (it'd be like lipbalm or gloss on crusty dry craked up lips)

w/ mc - now with mc and diavolo trying to get him to sleep more often its a much bigger challenge for barbatos to deny going to sleep therefore he goes to sleep more often, with mc around the little d's and diavolo can't make as many bets on barbs work sleep habits so the bets have changed to how long will it take for mc to notice that barbs fell asleep again / how many chores can barbs get through before mc guides him back to his room and takes over barbs creepy standing in dia's office has stopped and been replced with a slight restlessness in his sleep (beware mc for he may kick), and mc better beware of the tail it's 100% getting wrapped around them as they sleep it will be cold it will be slimy it will be slightly gross and it will soak any and all sleep clothes (can't tell me barbs doesn't find enjoyment in feeling how mc jumps as they wake up suddenly due to how cold and wet his tail is 'whats wrong little lamb? did i accidently wake you during your slumber') still no fan or anything by the way not unless you want to be the one applying lotion to his tail every hour (bonus sleepy cuddly barbs like early sunday morning look like shiz and gotta get up but partner is still sleep and gooooodddd they look cute sleeping and don't wanna disturb the peace and then the overgrown toddler with daddy issues barges in asking for breakfast because he was a second late to waking him up saying theres pancakes if he does all his paperwork in which barbs does not remember saying at all (it was all a dream that dia thought was real) and waking mc up, gosh dang it now i gots ideas for another fic from these things)

Diavolo

w/ out mc - another sea creature guess what it isssss, thats right! its a starfishhhhhh, mans has a massive bed cant tell me he doesn't starfish accross it wings out and everything, thinking of wings.... wings can be blankie, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand like beel he. is. a. heater. no need for blankets when have wings and are heater, he snores and sleep talks majority of his sleep talking is telling dream barbs that dream him wasn't trying to escape his duties or saying those really creepy things that alot of people who sleep talk say in their sleep something like idk 'doont go in the closet' and it'd be like right as mammons trying to find secret treasure in the castle and somehow ended up in dias room and is about to open the closet

w/ mc - still sprawled out but don't worry mc he left space for you (in his arms) still a heater be prepared to wear your summer sleep clothes in the middle of winter (or sleep au natural like asmo probably does) he still snores and sleep talks pretty much the same as before also refuses to get up in the morning (mans went to bed late let him sleep in and get his sleepy morning cuddles before barbs comes in and says theres pancakes if he does all his paperwork before 9am the drem stirkes again 'but barbatos i got all my paperwork done before nine and pancakes sound good and the dream felt way too real for it to be just a dream, come on love you had to of heard barbatos say something about breakfast being pancakes today surely' dont break his heart help him gaslight barabtos instead/hj)

That ws fuunnnnnnnnnnn

btw quick little tiny baby question would people perhaps be interested in perhaps me writing a little bit more for barbs and/or simeon maybeeeeeee (the inspiration hit and oh mah lordy loorrrrrd it is difficlt to not want to write more about themm) (btw dont really care how many of you answer yes or no im probably gonna do it anyways)

alsoooo i will gladly accept requests for more headcannon drabbley things for other stiuations if anyone has any ideas, (i don't really do full on fics btw)

other than that i hope you all have a great day, afternoon, night, morning, tea, door, pencil and thank you for reading (i hope it was as fun to read as it was to write) MasterList thingy-o

[mrghostrat]

Okay I cant -- I need to say it out loud.

I am 100% sure, at this point, you are my favourite artist so far. And I have to honestly thank you for a lot of stuff so let me get to the point before my anxiety takes me back --

I came across you less than a month ago. I don't remember if I saw your art before reading your fictions (Mon Horrible Cherì was my first) or the other way around, but both inspired me so much I can't describe it properly. Art itself is my absolute weak spot. In my past years I always struggled working on that, I was never happy with my results, and mostly had drawn to pay bills than for my own happyness. In the end I hated it at the point that every line I drew was a cut on my hand instead of a moment of joy. And that was horrendous.

But then I came across your art, at some point - and I was amazed. Your style is something I wished to achieve years ago, or very similar to that at least, so I was totally into looking for more, and more, and more. I can't produce art of that quality, but for the first time I wasn't envious of another artist's ability and talent, I was just... Amazed. I felt very happy, can't say why, but your style totally fascinated me. It still do. Anytime you post something new it gives me a shot of serotonine, it makes me feel happy and inspires me to get back on my Huion and draw something too. I started to push it through everyday, and in less than a month I grew a lot. You don't know that, but you pushed me into art with a passion I didn't had since I was 16, and I turned 30 couple months ago. Now it gives me joy everytime I draw. It doesn't matter if the art I produce is no good, or if I change my style everytime (I'm trying a lot of styles right now), the only thing that matter is the way I feel when I sit here and just let my inspiration go. And I feel happy. Happy to draw. Happy to experiment. Happy to share. Somehow I don't feel ashamed of my art anymore, and I was for a long time. I improved so much in these weeks. I watched carefully almost all of your timelapses (I am in love with all of them btw) and followed your tutorials more than once. Your examples, the way you work, is just inspirational for me. I've seen someone was thankful to you for the way you use references and says people out there to do it too: I want to thank you for that too. References was a taboo until last month for me, and I was SO wrong! Those helps so much!

So, well. I am not sure I wrote this all correctly, english is not my native language (I'm italian) and I may have done some mistakes, well, I do not care. I just hope I was able to express you my gratitude for all you did for me - I had to let you know how much this means to me everyday.

Oh also: I love every part of your art, but I could stare at your linearts for days and never get bored by that. And the way you color! Don't make me start on that. I could speak for hours. Not sure you'll want that, believe me.

So, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for making me believe in myself again. Thank you for giving me back my passion. Thank you for reminding me everyday I can draw for myself, for my own happyness. And thank you for making me happy.

You are a great artist.

Thank you! <3

i put off replying to this because i wanted to draw you something, but i just haven't had the energy after work and dont want u to think im ignoring you 😭

but i dont have WORDS. i'm so fucking proud of you. i'm so happy for you. browsing your blog and seeing the sheer amount of art and AUs you're making is so inspiring. your happiness is contagious and i hope you only continue to grow, and continue to foster all that joy for art.

thank you <3

[lavendergalactic]

Gray & blue for the azk game !! :3

gray: talk about the colors you tend to use in edits! do you like making bright or dark edits? are there colors you dislike editing?

i tend to lean towards making pink edits i think! i love making pink and red edits mostly :D

and i HATE editing yellow or a light green, i don't know why i can just never get it right- except for this yayoi edit i think the yellows in this one are really nice

blue: do you have favorite editors? is there any specific reasoning for your choosing?

@llocket !! 100% locket i really love anything he makes and i am VERY biased but hey i am locket's #1 fan forever >:) she's been improving their graphics so much recently, i love the married in red edits they did today... the improvement is crazy

@saeriji PROUD SAE OG FAN SINCE DAY 1 BRO 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 i love all the gifts she's given me, she's so generous and kind T_T and i'm pretty sure she does all her colouring and editing on ibis paint and literally she is just so good at colouring on ibis paint i strive to be like that

@necroangelz OFC! i've seen hir improve SOO much over the past few months, and idol even hit 1k followers recently which is so incredibly deserved

@hiddencircus i always find myself staring at radio's edits for 5 mins straight like... they're all so incredibly detailed and i just feel so much intention and effort that was poured into the edits

@doveish the way shi colours stuff is so nice on the eyes, and i've got to talk with macalo like two times on discord and shi's such a blast to talk to! shi also got me hooked to the lolitawardrobe account on twitter

@narcbf got me super inspired to make shiny buttons / imvu badges, thanks to their tutorial i can make them too now 🙏 also .co/pixelprism is like an angel sent from the heavens i love going there for any resources or really pretty shiny buttons

@herrscherofmemories (YOU!) the absolute IMPROVEMENT i've seen from amaru is so wild to me like i love to see it fr. im in love with this psd of hers, also i forever associate them with any melusine- i see a melusine in the wild and go "OMGG AMARU!! NO WAY!!" also with s = z typing quirks too, i remember my S key hurt too much to press so i settled with what i called "an amaru typing quirk" it was actually really fun

@spiralssyndrome i love love love her colouring on anything, and their melanin edits she does!!!! im a sucker for genshin melanin edits omg... also they're super helpful when it comes to making renders; it's so sweet how willing she is to help me with rendering an image :D also they helped with colouring on my chappell roan buttons 🙏 my hot to go button would be very different without her help thank u

@ideallyadored SUPER DUPER SMOOPER HELPFUL WHEN IT COMES TO GRAPHIC TIPS!! recently told me i should use sharpen on my stamp gifs, i still have yet to figure it out but i can't stop thinking about that tip it lives rent free in my head, i also love their clean aesthetic approach to things all of it is so nice on my eyes

that was such a yap fest i would have gone more but i'd be here for years guys LMAOFOA

[tacticaltaxonomist]

Can you tell me more about your experience with the blackberry key2?

Sure! I'll assume this is in context of "Should I get one".

I have the Blackberry Key2 (BBF 100-1)

The short version:

It's an outdated phone, and while I love it (so much, I'll cry when it dies), I can't in good consciousness recommend to BUY it, except under specific circumstances.

If you want it for browsing, chatting, notetaking, and similar casual use, and don't necessarily need it for important things like bank apps (see below), then... you're possibly still better off with a Unihertz!

Why? Used Blackberrys very often have keyboard issues, and unopened/unused ones are *expensive*, you can get something like a Unihertz Titan Slim for the same money or cheaper, and that has Android 11, not 8. (I have not used their phones yet, but when my Key2 will eventually die it's where I'll look first, for lack of better options).

If you can get a used one for dirt cheap (and have 2nd phone/pc for banking apps) AND you can test the keyboard, go ahead. If you have tried the Unihertz and Blackberry keyboards, and just like Blackberry better, and are willing to shell out for the sake of the keyboard, that's of course up to you.

Hope this helped :)

The LONG version:

I love hardware keyboards on phones and had many (Sony Ericsson P900, Sony Ericsson M600, Blackberry Q10, Blackberry Priv, Blackberry Key 1). The Key2 was released in 2018 and I got mine in 2021. It's still my "daily driver" and use it for all my browsing, tumblr, discord, music, train tickets, etc. For those purposes it works perfectly good.

I do not watch videos, or play games on my phone.

The Keyboard has been super reliable for me, it even survived having a full mug of tea pured into it (don't recommend). The spacebar was sticky for a couple days after drying, but has been flawless in the months since.

The phone sits well balanced in your hand to type (unlike the PRIV and SEP900) and the keys are pleasant to type on. After 3-4 years of constant use it's got a couple dings on the black coating of the keys, but that's happened on every keyboard phone I've had so far, and is well within expected signs of use. I write the majority of my stories (and all my discord chats) on my phone, it's seen *a lot* of use. Think 90% of ALL my typing in the last 3-4 years.

Other than that, it's a different proportion than most phones on the market right now, I've not had issues, but I do remember that Pokemon Go struggled with the Key1 (same proportion) and I wouldn't be surprised if that might be an issue with other game apps too.

I LIKE that the screen (and phone) isn't enormous. In comparison I hate the Redmi Note 10 Pro's huge screen, it's inconvenient. On the Key2 you can comfortably reach everything with your thumb. Also, the screen has been REALLY GOOD about scratches, compared to non-blackberry phones. It's got some micro scratches that are only noticeable in really bright sunlight (but in no way disruptive), and a couple months ago a good 3 mm corner on the top of my screen broke off (because I dropped it on tile without a case, like an idiot), but it's got NO CRACKS, no color or light issues. Completely fine. (Comparatively: the Redmi Note 10 Pro has a huge gouge through the screen.... from... somethign???? Within the first month of owning it lol)

Big Cons of a 6 years old phone:

1. Android 8.1.0 is the newest OS, and the last security patch was in 2020. Some new apps don't work, especially ones that require high security like Banking apps! Neither my bank nor my post app work on this phone, and I do not recommend using them on it even if your app allows it.

2. You can't break a Blackberry and install a different OS like you can a Xaomi.

3. Battery is weakened. We all know this, the older batteries get, the weaker they become. If I use my phone all day on wifi and bluetooth headphones I have to charge it by the evening. I take a charging block with me when I'm out a couple hours just in case it dies. Things like mobile data browsing, location tracking, videos and games, are *hard* on your battery.

Other issues I encountered / dislike:

I hate the camera, it's a lot worse than Key1 and PRIV's. If you like taking photos with your phone this ain't it.

Fingerprint scanner. Does it have one? Sure. If no phone has ever struggled with your fingerprints you're probably fine. EVERY phone (and airport) fingerprint scanner ever has had trouble with my fingerprints, but none fail as hard as Key2s. I don't use it lol (this might be an issue with my phone specifically, the Key1 wasn't as unreliable).

If you still have more specific questions, or use cases, or "that's all fine so long it runs one(1) app can you check that for me", feel free to ask o/