#i never know how to end these i was just thinkin abt this

[v-arbellanaris]

i think the problem (?) is that the only kind of (fictional?) love that interests me is the kind of love that changes the world. the kind of love that derails the narrative, the kind of love that changes everything -- not necessarily by how special or unique the love is but by the very mundanity of it. the love that grows, not in spite of the barren lovelessness of Before, but out of it. i think that's why I'm always so invested in ships that are two people diametrically opposed to each other, or enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, or two people on separate sides of the morality issue coin, because i love it when love... not that it changes a person but it allows the person to Become. the space, the grace, to change. to love the monster, to love the unlovable and the intolerable, is to make it something other than a monster, than unlovable, than intolerable. i love it when being loved at your worst, ugliest, most horrible self is what makes you want to be someone worth loving. like is this ANYTHING to anyone or

[moechies]

toji n his bunny gf ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

thinkin’ abt toji’s bunnie gf that lies to him bc she doesn’t want him to be mad :(

your ears point down and your gaze lingers away from his, and he already knows his pretty baby is lying to him. but even after he knows, he likes watching you stutter over your own words, and creating fake scenarios on the spot when both you and him know never happened.

it’s almost comedic how your eyes visibly light up when you find something believable to say, just to be brought down with a condescending chuckle that leaves his lips.

“is that so?”

“mhm..”

“are you really telling the truth bunny? you know what happens when you lie, don’t you?”

“y-yes.. i..”

“you what?” your ear perks up at a sudden ‘clink,’ upon taking a look up, you see the man undoing his belt, slipping the leather rope out of the hooks of his denim pants.

“m-m tellin’ the truth..” your tail begins to flutter, a sign that you’re beginning to panic. he changes his hold on the belt so the ends are held in one hand, still a stoic expression spread across his face.

you can’t stand to look your lover in the eyes, knowing you’re lying directly to his face. after all he’s done to take care of you, pamper you, and love you, you still find it inside you to lie.. but it’s okay;

“look at me.”

you nervously peer up at the man, a slight shiver down your spine when his piercing cold eyes with a certain glint, stare directly back into yours.

“are you really telling your owner the truth?” he lifts your chin with a gentle finger,

and that’s when you begin to feel the tears weld in your eyes, your bottom lip quiver as you build the courage to reply to him.

“bunn-“

“m-m sorry..!” your arms flail out to wrap around his leg, small hands with a tight grip on his pants, as short tears fall down flushed cheeks.

“i-i lied ! i jus— didn’t wan’ you to get mad. pleasepleaseplease, d-don’t be angry, sir.. please—‘m sorry.!” you stammer in broken whines.

“there we go,” he whispers, followed with a grin. he brings his hand down to your head, short but sweet pets to your head and saddened ears.

“it’s okay bunny. i forgive you.”

“r-really..?” your head swiftly turns to his, eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, and your lips swollen with a slight shake. he groans at the sight, but says nothing to intrigue you.

“but..” his thumb runs over your cheek, using the same hand he holds his belt with,

“bad bunnies get punished. remember ?”

[moyazaika]

omg doe brought up this AMAZINGGG idea abt the crime lord yan and his lawyer darling hello hey hi!!!!!!

this kinda got away from me because it is 3am but i nEEEEEDED to get this out bjsjsjjs i blame @carnivorousyandeere

i know i wrote the initial dynamic for his darling to be his lawyer, in that they’re on his side in court to keep him from getting sent to prison BUT BUT BUT hear me out T_T

lawyer darling who put yan kingpin away.

as in ,, you are the reason he was found guilty. you are the one, when the judge announced the final verdict, that his gaze turned to and that he smiled for, then. sentenced to death, before it was appealed to multiple life sentences; the beginning of the end of his empire.

you, you, you — the cause of his downfall.

after the infamous internationally documented case, your career soars to unprecedented heights. you’re the lawyer on every newspaper in every country, all the tv channels and glossy magazines. every law school wants you to speak at their graduation ceremonies. every firm’s reaching out to you. the whole world knows your name; you have everything!

—so why do you keep going back to the man who now has nothing?

the kingpin looks the same as he did that fateful day in court. only now, there’s bags under his eyes, and a five o clock shadow on his jaw; lips still curled in an easygoing smile. he laughs when he sees you, as if the two of you were merely old friends who hadn’t caught up in a while.

as if you’re not visiting him years later in the city’s most high security prison.

he grins. “come to gloat, have ‘ya?”

“you’ve committed countless crimes.” you state. “stolen lives and livelihoods. broken up families. killed good men. and still, all these years later, no remorse?”

“don’t get ‘yer panties in a twist,” he huffs, lazily leans back in the rickety prison chair so that he’s swinging it back and forth on its back legs, like a child. how absurd that even the garish orange uniform of a prison should suit him, “comes with the job description, don’t it?”

“i think about you,” you admit, eyeing the chains that bind his handcuffed hands to the desk in front of him. you look up, meet his gaze through the thick, dirty pane that separates you from him. keeps you safe. out of his reach, if only just.

a low whistle. “you sure know how to make a man feel special, y’know. been followin’ your cases. never put another one like me away, did ‘ya?” he grins. “i like that i’m special. makes me feel all warm ‘nd fuzzy inside.”

“wow,” you let out. “you really have gone insane.”

“always been a ‘lil crazy! like i said, part of the job description. though i’ve been thinkin’ recently,” he starts.

your fascination prompts you to lean closer. a sort of morbid curiosity that yearns to solve the puzzle of his twisted mind, slot the pieces you’ve already got in a way that makes them fit. you’ve got this weird feeling that you’re missing something. a big piece, maybe. one of the central ones.

“thinking about what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost conspiratorial. he leans in, too, all wide eyes—

—and then he jerks forward with the chains around the cuffs on his wrists pulled taut as he suddenly yanks them all the way, like a feral dog pulling on its leash. he looks like one, too, with that glint in his eyes.

“fuck!”

you barely even register that you’re on the floor until he laughs, low in his throat. he makes a vague gesture to your chair, toppled over on its side.

“oops.” he says, coyly. “didn’t mean to scare ‘ya.”

“liar,” you hiss, standing up to dust yourself off. this was stupid. why would you even entertain the idea of a civil conversation with a madman?

he gasps dramatically. “this is slander, your honour!”

“i’m leaving,” you scoff. “i don’t even know why i even came down here. you’re clearly fucking crazy.”

“and you’re no fun!” he pouts. “how ‘bout you stay just a little longer and i’ll make it worth ‘yer time, pretty please?”

“no can do,” you turn on your heels and reach for the door, fingers curled around the handle as you spare him one final glance over your shoulder— “have fun rotting in here for the rest of your life, psycho.”

—except the door won’t open. you try again, and again once more. the handle won’t budge. an awful sense of urgency overcomes you as you desperately shake the handle in a futile attempt to get it to just—

“funny ‘yer calling me crazy, ‘cus einstein once said real insanity is doin’ the same thing,” he beams. “over and over and over and over again, and expecting different results. door’s locked, lovely. ‘yer not getting out from there, ‘m afraid.”

you turn back then, still holding onto that door like a lifeline. he’s standing up, rubbing sore wrists that are, you realise with a sinking feeling, no longer bound by the handcuffs that kept him chained; on a short leash, like a good dog.

“what are you doing…?” your voice shakes, and it’s a far cry to the headstrong, unwavering lawyer who put the world’s most notorious criminal behind bars. “what the fuck—”

“i told you i’d make it worth your while t’stay,” he rolls up his sleeves, before pushing all of his hair (longer and greasier than the last you saw him) out of his face, features set in a determination you’ve never glimpsed before. familiar eyes twinkle with mischief. “and i meant it, y’know. the world’s very best lawyer came so far to see me! least i can do is greet ‘em properly.”

“‘cus see, the other prisoners wouldn’t be so nice. but i’ve been thinkin’ about you too.” he pulls his arm back and his fist comes flying at the pane. “don’t wanna have a conversation or nothin’ like that, nah, we talked enough.”

“you’ve been thinking about me, i’ve been waiting around for you…” bloody knuckles against cracks in the one barrier that is keeping you safe from him. you watch, helpless, as it threatens to break beneath the brute force of his trained fists.

“now let me just come over there,” he pulls his arm back again, ready to strike; knuckles raw and red, like the maniacal grin carved onto his pretty, flushed face. a deep blush and a shaky smile as those fists bring it all crashing down. “and show you how much i missed my faaavourite lawyer in the whole wide world.”

“—that be a good enough reason to stick around?” he asks slyly, before catching himself. “oh, silly me.” he shakes his head, apologetically, as he steps over broken shards on the floor, tainted with his blood. “doesn’t matter what ‘ya say.” a low hum when scarred hands reach out for you. “i waited so long for you…”

“… so, let’s make up reaaalllll good for all that lost time, okay?”

[norrizzandpia]

can we get pt 2 of 34+35 where yn releases nonsense or positions, everyone is more confused because are we talking about the same guy?? in response all yn does is mention his thighs 💀💀

YES MAAM OFC I LOVE THIS STORYLINE

WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI? (OP81)

Summary: Oscar and Y/n always loved to mess with the fans. Fortunately, the best way to do that is spill their sex life.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language

Note: THE THIGHS 😫😫😫😫😫 SO MANY WORDS NOT ENOUGH TIME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ynnn Nonsense out now! 💋

Comments:

osc81fan I- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

piaosc ARE WE SURE ALL OF US ARE TALKING ABT THE CORRECT MAN?

- mclarenpiaandlan YEAH WTF HOW IS THIS OSCAR

mclarensgirlll SHE DID THIS LAST TIME AND WE NEVER RECOVERED

- landonorris ILL NEVER RECOVER.

oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT MEEEEEEEE 🤭🤭

- danielricciardo we are aware.

- maxverstappen i think youve said that enough

- charlesleclerc YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE LITTLE OSCAR 😰😰😰

- ynnn definitely not LITTLE oscar 😏

- alexalbon STOP.

——

ynnn maybe i lied? Lookin’ at him doesn’t have me thinkin’ nonsense, it has me thinkin…

Comments:

oscarpiastri my girlfriend everyone 😀

- mclarensgirlll hes probably giggling at his phone at this very moment

- landonorris and youd be right!

maxverstappen IM SO SCARED FOR MY LIFE

- danielricciardo WE CANT ESCAPE IT

- alexalbon HE PLAYS THE SONGS EVERYWHERE

- landonorris IT NEVER ENDS.

ln4andop81 anyone else curious abt what shes going to say on that podcast next week where theyre infamous for asking abt sex????

- oscpastry i bet you oscar will forever be changed for us

- mclarensgirlll he already is 🥲

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 IN HONOR OF 24 HOURS BEFORE Y/NS PODCAST EPISODE, DROP THE MOST SHOCKING LYRICS FROM NONSENSE DOWN BELOW

- oscpastry “you said you like my eyes and you like the make em roll” SOOOO BASICALLY WHEN WERE THOSE WORDS FALLING FROM OUR BABY’S LIPS????

- mclarenpiaandlan REAL BECAUSE HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS 😭😭

- mclarensgirlll I THINK THE LYRIC “opposite of soft” LET US KNOW HE IS WAYYYY MORE EXPERIENCED THAN WE THOUGHT

- piaosc DOM OSCAR????? FUCKING HOW. IN. WHAT. WORLD.

- ynnn this world! 💋

- piaosc IS THIS SOME SORT OF GAME???

- mclarenpiaandlan THE PATTERN IS PATTERNING

- mclarensgirlll ITS SO ICONIC MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 hows everyone doing after that podcast….

- mclarensgirlll “WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI?” trending on twitter makes me feel less alone after listening to Y/n’s tell all

- mclarenpiaandlan host: “whats your favorite body part of oscar’s?” Y/n: “his thighs” BY THEN I ALREADY KNEW WHAT WAS COMING BUT THE HOST HAD TO KEEP GOING host: *giggling* “why?” Y/n: “10 out of 10 for riding” I THINK MY BRAIN WENT DEAD FOR A SEC

- piaosc GIRLY KEPT GOING TOO host: “did you ask or, like, how did that come about?” Y/n: “well, he was just kind of sitting there, manspread ya know, and he caught on the minute he saw the way i was looking at him. Ive never see him so excited before.” *laughing* “i think he enjoys it more than me!”

- ln4andop81 no words. Host: “so he knows you like his thighs?” Y/n: “Oh my god, yeah! I hate him for it but he purposefully wears his shortest pair of shorts around the house so when he sits, that’s all I see. I’m telling you, Oscar knows how much I love his body and he knows EXACTLY how to use it.” Host: “what do you mean?” Y/n: “just that the shirtless photo i posted of him is one of many and the rest of them could not be up on the internet for longer than 5 seconds before being taken down because they’re borderline all pornographic” OSCAR???? BABY BOY??? WHO ARE YOU.

- mclarensgirlll BRO AND THEN host: “your new song, Nonsense, mentions things being more rough than soft. Is that really true with him?” Y/n: “Are you kidding?! The fans who think he’s super innocent and pure are in for some serious whiplash when i say that he is anything but that. He’s not Oscar when we’re in bed. He’s some alter ego who has no problem fucking against a random wall.” UHHHHHHHHHHH RUE WHEN WAS THIS????

- oscarpiastri now THAT is one thing i wont be answering 😊

- ynnn knowing myself ill probably reveal it in some song in the future 🤦🏼‍♀️

- mclaren maybe try and hold off on that one plz bestie 😙

- landonorris ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^🙏🏻

- danielricciardo ^^

- alexalbon ^^^

- maxverstappen ^

- charlesleclerc ^^^^

[delighted-mirage]

YEAHAHAHAHA that sounds so fun and sweet. it’s a basic typed up american diner cookbook of recipes aligning with what caspar thinks they should serve like burger and fries, sandwiches, salads. then his notes of variations scribbled into the margins for certain galaxies for food and a big circled one of that one vegan cult planet with red marker DO NOT SERVE MEAT and many other warnings. and then another page for how both his moms like their night breakfast. and maybe another recipe for how his son likes his night breakfast. hurriedly written in the margins of his moms’ night breakfast page like he wasn’t sure if he should write it but did it anyway.

then some notes and recipes written out by caspar for effie and zebulon full of their butchering techniques, best ways to use even old produce scraps into the best casseroles, their favorite way to grind up and blend tea leaves so it’s *just* right (and how to read them and people drinking it), and generally hardy recipes that can feed lots of people they used to use for church that caspar usually pulls out for big crowds when he needs to use the most that he can. they also have the best blueberry pie recipe that caspar Says he’s doing exactly like he says they are! but they Know he’s doing it wrong and it’s not nearly as good as the one they are enjoying right now over the radio.

*they are also the only bakers and I feel like they deserve to have that category cornered. and I feel like zeb’s the cook. effie likes figuring things out and building it so she enjoys it too but I think zeb likes the work in knowing what he needs to do and fill it with as much love as he can. if it’s effie’s recipe it’s down to the minute what you need to do, if it’s zeb’s it’s pretty well structured with room to do what you want and has a little note on which work song he likes humming while he’s working

then some of leif’s recipes on notebook paper and a few popular alien ones he picked up from all around the galaxy. like cocktail recipes for trusk’s dreg and sigius’ wine? *can substitute for beer and dessert wine - or maybe even like. alcohol made from pacific islands? I looked up hawaii’s okolehao and awa made from kava roots and stuff which would be super neat in incorporating making those types of alcohol with sigius being a planet of volcanic islands*

^also probably some cocktails that range from regular to chemically explosive of which many feature a silly straw and tiny umbrella. one of the drinks is called the xeliac and it comes with a smoky black froth in a black sparkling drink that’s physically cold but chemically hot and bitter in the moment but after a moment it’s sweet and warm.

then could even have a couple of ava’s comfort foods from new york too. like her version of a club sandwich if that’s something they Know she likes. or how to make the best new york style pizza. or quick homemade chinese food she knows how to make and helps her focus and think of tons of chinese takeout nights. and a few other street foods like mediterranean, filipino, korean, soul foods, and honestly I think she’d be pretty international.

I don’t think she’d be so nostalgic for the flavors but probably brings it up a few times when the gang eats out at some alien restaurant like this tastes like the halo halo drink from hart street I used to drink like a drug when I was still writing my first thesis. then they turn to look at her and immediately want to know what halo halo/whatever other recipe she’s talking about to make from earth ingredients while they’re drinking/eating this absolutely delicious alien drink (if you’ve drunk/eaten halo halo you know it’s a very solid mix of eating and drinking)

also probably some fun sharp traditional cocktails and coffee recipes that she memorized and by taking one sip of the drink, can tell exactly what’s in it.

then gloria comes in with her whole taqueria menu and recipes all official and with some family recipes like her abuelo’s chocolomo recipe and the best champurrado and horchata and café de olla oughgh. she hand writes all of them and adds fun doodles and none of the gang can actually do the recipes bc she writes them like “add the pepper until it feels like it’s ready <3” and they all ask her about it but she’s adamant that’s Just How It Feels she doesn’t know what else to tell them!

and also got leif to help her experiment making those korean corn dogs with cheese or potato or squid ink, tteokbokki /spicy korean rice cakes or bbongupang / fish shaped bread filled with red bean or chocolate or custard. just bc I think gloria also watched mukbang / eating videos from bts and other korean artists and with an unlimited pantry and kitchen she deserves to experiment and fulfill her mukbang dreams LMAO

there’s also entries of

ex’s favorite food (she has many opinions and it needs to come from This specific galaxy because she can’t eat food but she loved the feeling of being there with people eating it)

shel’s favorite type of light and soil/kind of water/booze

tamara’s quick and easy snack recipes for long shifts and survival tips specifically for surviving for long periods of time on the run from shopzies

clementine’s favorite beets recipes and some other hardy ones she learned as a kid

terric’s favorite foods from jerusalem, england, france, brazil, and america

scribbled handwritten conversations in the margins (ava calling caspar a loser/caspar calling ava a dick) with their handwriting’s clearly distinct from each other <3

and at the end of it is a small collection of

leif’s notes on engineering (maybe the basics of some inventions in case anyone needs to fix a tool in the kitchen? or some other useful things. like a laser gun.)

ava’s theoretical notes (written in code - and one third is real notes, another third mocking caspar, and other third journal entries expressing how a part of her is afraid she is of finding the answer shes looking for)

caspar’s basic cleaning and customer service tips (based around different alien elements, points in time, and universes-he’s had 173 years of experience, I hope he knows how to clean and deal with all kinds of customers everywhere and when)

new notes on how to fix effie and zeb’s radio and their favorite songs/bible verses (“DO NOT CHANGE THE STATION- but if you do here’s ava’s code to fix it” is written in bold black ink now)

and gloria’s basic cooking tips and maybe even some self love affirmations. just as a hc I think gloria’s used to having to support herself in order to face the day and affirmations are a pretty good way to do that. and I think it means a lot to her that she gets to share them with her new family now to support them. <3

If the midnight burger pod ever release merch, one of them should be a cook book that starts off like a regular cook book that focuses on diner staples (burgers, fries, sandwiches etc) but then it transitions to mexican recipes (im thinking chile rellenos, pozole, cafe de olla). But then it transitions to weirder recipes like how to not burn coffee and how to make moonshine. Then Like the end of the cook book is like diagrams of quantum machines and math notes calculating the universe.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Starry Eyed Singer

You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.

a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)

find the bad ending here...

alright now its time for credits

@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333

@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!

@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333

@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...

wc: 7.3k

The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.

And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.

If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.

You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.

A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.

But he mistakes fascination for infatuation. 

<><><><>

You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.

His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.

“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it. 

You scoff. “What do you think?”

“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”

His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you. 

“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes. 

After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.

“Impatient, are you?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.

“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”

That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.

“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.

His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”

You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.

“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”

“They… did?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”

The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign. 

<><><><>

You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.

It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.

“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.

“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.

“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”

“Good.”

“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”

“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.

“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”

“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”

He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.

You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.

How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.

Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.

<><><><>

The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.

But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.

One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers. 

It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.

With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.

A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.

"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.

You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.

But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.

An iridescent scale.

<><><><>

Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.

“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”

“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.

Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.

“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”

“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.

“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.” 

“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”

“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”

“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”

You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.

But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear. 

Get out.

<><><><>

It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.

Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?

“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.

It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.

So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.

Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.

But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.

And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.

Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.

Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.

And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.

You’ll make sure of that.

Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You’ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.

And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.

What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits. 

In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.

As long as you come back.

<><><><>

Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.

Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.

So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.

But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches. 

Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.

Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.

Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.

Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.

It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.

He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.

And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.

Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?

<><><><>

But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.

Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.

You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong

You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.

They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.

Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.

And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.

Guess what else you were right about?

He’s no merman.

You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.

A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.

A siren.

<><><><>

“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor. 

“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.

“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.

“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”

“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.

“Mi amor-”

“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up. 

And it all comes crashing down.

“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”

His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.

You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?

The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?

You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.

But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.

“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows. 

“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”

“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”

He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?

"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."

Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.

You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.

“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.

“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.

“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”

The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.

“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.

The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.

“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

<><><><>

As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?

But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.

When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.

Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard. 

Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.

And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.

His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.

Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?

And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.

Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.

Your mother.

<><><><>

The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.

Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.

Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out. 

You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.

So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.

But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace. 

You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.

She is free. Your mother is finally free.

A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.

But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.

You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.

Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.

You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.

And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.

The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber. 

Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.

You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.

“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts. 

“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.

Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.

Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.

"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.

He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."

"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.

“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.

Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.

 "I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.

“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.

“Hm?”

“Leon.”

“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.

“What? You do not like it?”

“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”

His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.

A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one. 

And this time, you’re never letting go.

<><><><>

The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind. 

His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced. 

“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”

“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”

“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”

“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.

“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”

“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.

“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.

“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”

“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”

“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”

“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”

“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”

You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.

Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.

You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.

Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.

“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”

[almostfoxglove]

I was re-reading I’ll Carry You and it got me wondering… was reader at Javi and Lorraine’s wedding? And if so, what was going through her mind when he left Lorraine at the altar? Did they get a chance to talk about it before he left for Colombia?

sweet angel darling THANK YOU FOR THIS (also, hey! I'm crying abt the fact that you wanted to reread the series! ahhhhh) - I might have gotten a touch carried away with this... oops! hope this is alright :,) in ICY, I have javier & reader aged twenty-eight when javi leaves lorraine at the altar (so this precedes that section of part II by two weeks or so)

javier & lorraine's wedding day

an I'LL CARRY YOU drabble

Explicit (18+) | Javier Peña x f!reader | 1.2k words

You don't know, but you have a feeling.

Maybe it's the filters you had to sweep from the ashtray on your nightstand before leaving: eleven. Or the look in Javier's eyes when he took off this morning: so glassy, far away. How, when he crashed at yours last night—can't see the bride before the wedding!—he'd asked you to hold him, said he couldn't sleep, and in the gloom of your shitty apartment you thought you felt his lips skim your jaw. Just once. Then he was asleep.

Now at the chapel, you light up on the grass while sunlight flirts with the ruffle at the end of your dress. It's bad news whenever you smoke without him, but it's not over yet—there's still time for him to show. Then you meet Chucho's eye across the grassy churchyard you see it in his face, composed as it remains. Worry.

Spearing smoke from the corner of your mouth, you drop the filter to snub beneath your heel as Chucho wanders over, accepting shoulder claps and handshakes from waiting attendees, so many drawls wishing him congratulations, must be mighty proud. He falters none, loyal to his role as doting father of the groom.

Until, of course, he reaches you.

"Thought you were bringing him," you hush under your breath, careful to maintain a gentle grin as guests breeze past, romanced by the sweetness of a wedding in July.

Chucho nods, his hands two stony fists in his pockets, and looks at his shoes. Newly polished, you think. Decades worn. "Thought the same 'bout you."

A glance at the chapel, its pillared spire. The small, coin-shaped window at the very top where you know Lorraine must be waiting, entirely unaware that Javier has failed to show.

He could show up. There are still minutes to go.

And yet you now feel in your bones that Javier's not coming.

With a sigh Chucho pulls one hand free to glance at his watch, but there's no hope in his expression. "Never know what that boy's thinkin'," he mumbles as he too looks up at the chapel.

Your heart winces for the woman beyond the window who must now be fussing over the final details: her hair, her blush, the straps of her shoes. Perhaps fighting back tears while she holds her mother and sister, telling them this is the best day of her life. Gazing out into the churchyard, hoping for a glimpse of Javier. Practicing how it feels to introduce herself with a new last name.

Poor Lorraine.

"Don't say anythin' yet," you whisper to Chucho, steeling yourself. "Might know where he is."

You run a red on your way and find Javier brooding on his own back porch, having left your apartment in time to artfully dodge his father's departure—now he sits planted on the lowest step in his tux trousers and white shirt hanging open over his bronze chest, smoking like he has tired of this mortal plane.

Dry scrubgrass crackles as you walk, but he doesn't look up. "Gonna miss the party," he says dryly, when you come to stand over him.

You think you might be mad—all this fucking ache, the years of watching him love her over you, pick her over you—and here on the big day Javier's decided it's not for him. Cold feet. False alarm. Making all your suffering feel like slinking, unnecessary shame.

"Javi," you scold, your arms crossed.

His chest glistening, slick with summer heat and freckled. He blows smoke from the corner of his mouth as his free hand rises to pinch the hem of your dress where it hangs at the level of his eye. "Y'look nice," he says.

Weak, it wilts you. He's trying to distract you from the mess he's about to make, and how pathetic you feel when he succeeds bruises you. "If you wanted to make a break for it, should've told me."

He scoffs, pinches his cigarette back to his lips to drag, and continues to thumb the gauzy fabric of your dress, unwilling to let it go.

In his silence, you sink onto the porch step beside him, letting stray grass tickle at your calves. Stealing his cigarette for a turn, staring out at the yellowed pastures where the colts are galloping in the shade of their old-world oaks. Letting the summer melt you, ruin your hair. Filling your lungs with what's polluting him.

"When'd you know?"

Javier's jaw flinches. He shakes his head. "Don't think it matters now."

For a long time neither of you speaks. You finish the cigarette, then Javier lights another and hands it straight to you. The time for the wedding comes and goes, but neither of you answer the phone when it shrills from the kitchen. After the first three calls, you go in to knock the phone from its cradle before returning to his side.

"How'd the interview go," you ask him—because asking this is safe. You can't ask what you want to. You can't ask him why. Asking would be to show your hand, to admit you have hope to hide.

A resigned shrug jolts his torso, shoulders burdened by guilt's great albatross. "Dunno," he says. "Said they'll know in a couple weeks."

You nod and pass the cigarette, careful not to shiver when Javier takes it in a way that touches every part of your hand. Weak: you lean against him. Spineless: your head finds the heat of his shoulder. Terrible: you almost smile when he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. You should drag him to the chapel, make him break up with Lorraine where he can look her in the face if not march him down the aisle at gunpoint—she's a good woman. Good to him. She loves him, entertains his black humor, makes sure he eats. She'd take care of him. They'd make a gaggle of cute little kids.

But you're in love with him, self-bound to secrecy and unable to shake the shackles of your adoration. Often you wonder if this fact makes you bad. Certainly unwise, sometimes unkind. Because you don't take him anywhere, don't tell him off, don't make him fess up to you. You sit, right here on the porch that's bore your weight for most of your life, and let him get away with it.

"You think you'll take it?" you say, your temple still resting against him as a tendril of smoke bleeds into the air. The miles aren't worth counting—if Javier goes, it'll cut the cord. And worse than the feeling you had at the chapel is the doom that gathers over you when you consider this in a new light: Javier isn't getting married, won't have a wife, and therefore won't have any reason to stay.

If they offer it, he'll leave you in Laredo alone. No guarantee that he'll ever come home.

"S'a long shot," he says. "Doubt they'll offer."

"They'll offer, Javi. You'd be good."

At this he chuckles softly as if surprised. "Yeah?"

He should be saying I do right now. Kissing his bride. Rushing off down the petal-blown aisle to a chorus of collective joy.

It's dangerous to wonder why instead he's here, smoking next to you. Why he came here instead of hiding—a place he knew you'd find him. Like he wanted you to. It's dangerous, yes, but you do. Quietly you unfurl one hand, let sunlight hit your open palm, and Javier looks down at it for a long, stretching moment before sliding his over it to claim.

"Yeah, baby," you tell him, eyes sinking shut. "Course you'd be good."

*also, because this bit didn't quite fit in the drabble - I imagine that when Javier finds out he's been offered the job in Colombia a couple weeks after this, he invites our girl out for the fancy dinner in part II (intending to celebrate & tell her the news) but on the day he loses his nerve and decides he can't bear to say goodbye to her, so instead he chickens out, changes his flight, and leaves :,) ow

tag list for the series in case anyone wants to be sad w me <3

@pedritosgfreal @thundermartini @guiltyasdave @jolapeno @reluctanthalfwayoptimism 

@myownwholewildworld @sunnytuliptime @indiegirlunited @anoverwhelmingdin @pedrospatch

@bergamote08 @harriedandharassed @casssiopeia @sweetpascal @half-moon16 

@noisynightmarepoetry @theoraekenslover @luxurychristmaspudding @kyberblade @toomanytookas 

@itsokbbygrl @wannab-urs @milla-frenchy @yopossum @beezusvreeland

@katw474 @bluesweaters15 @jessthebaker @encasedinobsidian @ppascalrain

@yxtkiwiyxt @schnarfer @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @iknowisoundcrazy

@whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @missladym1981

[haowrld]

SEVENTEEN AS ARCTIC MONKEYS SONGS

NOTES : seventeen headcanon, music recs

WORD COUNT : 0.9k words

WARNINGS : none!

A/N : i love svt and i love arctic monkeys so uhh also this is just mostly just vibes and me going crazy lol it honestly makes me want to make a fic with these songs

MASTERLIST

seventeen as arctic monkeys playlist (check it out 🗯️)

SEUNGCHEOL

I WANNA BE YOURS : secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought, maybe i just wanna be yours, i wanna be yours, i wanna be yours.

this song is full of yearning, it just fits seungcheol so well since he has such a large presence but it still brings a sense of comfort.

JEONGHAN

BODY PAINT : straight from the cover shoot, still a trace of body paint, on your legs and on your arms and on your face, and i'm keepin' on my costume (keeping on), i'm callin' it a writin' tool, and if you're thinkin' of me, i'm probably thinkin' of you.

very simple instrumentals but the way it flows just really suits jeonghan. lyrics oddly remind me of jeonghan and how smart he usually is on certain occasions.

JOSHUA

CORNERSTONE : and i elongated my lift home, yeah, i let him go the long way round, i smelt your scent on the seatbelt, and kept my shortcuts to myself.

the music has a super sweet and has a nostalgic feeling to it. i honestly think this is such a joshua thing if you read the lyrics, it’s pretty angsty honestly, but the song still has such a beautiful instrumentals that i eat it up …

JUNHUI

SECRET DOOR : and the secret door swings behind us, she's saying nothing, she's just giggling along, even if they were to find us, i wouldn't notice, i'm completely occupied.

there’s something so wen junhui abt this song like it doesn’t make sense. the sudden drums that enter in the music or just the drums in general and the effects behind it with the bass is such a good part of the music

SOONYOUNG

KNEE SOCKS : the late afternoon, the ghost in your room, that you always thought didn't approve, of you knockin' boots, never stopped you lettin' me get hold, of the sweet spot by the scruff of your, knee socks.

again with the banger instrumental and the bridge BRO. the lyrics on the other hand (i actually dk what it’s on abt lol) but they have some of my favorite lyrics

WONWOO

ARABELLA : my days end best when the sunset gets itself behind, that little lady sittin' on the passenger side, it's much less picturesque without her catchin' the light, the horizon tries, but it's just not as kind on the eyes, as arabella, oh, as arabella.

wonwoo is so arabella, like ik it’s about a person but the lyrics just remind me of a person who’s mysterious and shit, and wonwoo is an enigma

JIHOON

PILEDRIVER WALTZ : you look like you've been for breakfast at the heartbreak hotel, and sat in the back booth by the pamphlets and the literature on how to lose, your waitress was miserable and so was your food, if you're gonna try and walk on water, make sure you wear your comfortable shoes.

calm song and such a vibe as hell, this is honestly so woozi, and the lyrics is pretty silly but they are still pretty good 😋

MINGHAO

DO I WANNA KNOW? : crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when, you've had a few? 'cause I always do, maybe I'm too, busy bein' yours, to fall for somebody new, now i've thought it through, crawlin' back to you.

do i have even anything else to say abt this…? i might make a fic (i wish)

MINGYU

505 : i'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a 45-minute drive, in my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.

the beginning part has me on chokehold, THIS is why it’s such a popular song and i think it’s just so kim mingyu bro

SEOKMIN

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT : you used to get it in your fishnets, now you only get it in your night dress, discarded all the naughty nights for niceness, landed in a very common crisis, everything's in order in a black hole, nothing seems as pretty as the past though, that bloody mary's lacking in tabasco, remember when you used to be a rascal?

although the lyrics are a little CRAZY i pretty much chose the song over the fun beat and vibes for dokyeom hehe

SEUNGKWAN

THERE’D BETTER BE A MIRRORBALL : so if you wanna walk me to the car, you oughta know i'll have a heavy heart, so can we please be absolutely sure, that there's a mirrorball?

it has pretty deep instrumentals plus the vocals are so soft and smooth, and seungkwan totally has the softness around it, im kind of into it LOL

VERNON

R U MINE? : i go crazy 'cause here isn't where i wanna be, and satisfaction feels like a distant memory, and i can't help myself, all i wanna ever say is, "are you mine?"

this just reminds me so much of vernon when he was in his black eye era, lyrics sounds desperate and shit i just think abt black eye with the guitar just going brrr

CHAN

STOP THE WORLD CAUSE I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU : well, i know that getting you alone isn't easy to do, with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room, and i don't wanna lie, but i don't wanna tell you the truth, get the sense that you're on the move, and you'll probably be leaving soon, so i'm telling you

this is my favorite song from them, including fluorescent adolescent, and it sounds like a pretty romantic song and just this is so chan honestly idk how it has such good feel around it

taglist (open) send an ask or fill out the form to be part of the taglist!

©️HAOWRLD

[love-toxin]

Thinkin abt scissoring w Chrissy. Our clits keep bumping against each other and she bites her lip and whines through her nose real high pitch and pretty. Grabbing onto her thigh and clinging just to keep from slipping off bc we’re both so wet ughnnughn

🎶🎵 she wears high heels i wear sneakers--

(cws: tribbing/scissoring, forbidden love trope, cheating [but it's on jason so], dirty talk)

"Close, baby?"

Your voice is barely a whisper in the dark, but Chrissy's hand clamps over your lips regardless--she's so shy about being found out that she can hardly contain the shakiness of her fingers. She shushes you quietly, but still remedies the urge with a brush of her soft mouth against yours once she pulls her palm away.

Her skirt's totally messed up with a big, wet patch on the bottom, panties in a rolled up ball in your fist as you clench it against the carpet. She's always been a bit of a priss but she's extra antsy about doing this stuff in her own house. Her mom's a psycho bitch, that's for sure--and she wouldn't take well to the town's resident lesbo rubbing clits with her prestigious daughter.

This is all a rebellion for Chrissy, though. She hates that bitch just as much as you do. But she's still a good girl at heart, the kind of girl next door that does all her homework and finishes all her chores before she invites you through her window to teach her how to scissor...again. For someone who claims not to know how, still, after so many times you've done it together, she's gotten pretty damn good at it--especially for a girl who still insists she's straight.

"Almost there-" She gasps, stomach in a concave as she hunches forward in pleasure. Her inner thighs are soaked with clear slick, those ginger hairs that she trimmed so meticulously matted down and sticky. Chrissy brings up a hand that was bracing the floor and covers her mouth with it. She can't help getting whiny when she gets close to the end, she can barely manage not to scream when her orgasm hits her like a tractor trailer.

"Take what you need, sweets." You lean in and whisper to her, keeping your fingers dug into her thigh to stop her from sliding off. You barely have to move with her humping her hips like this--she's getting you off with that swollen little clit like she's been practicing just for you. With a beat of hesitation you capture her lips in a kiss. You can apologize for it later. Chrissy only kisses you to keep quiet, not for you to catch feelings for everyone's favourite cheerleader.

"Don't stop," She mumbles it into your mouth. Her command is clear as day, just as her hand is reaching down to nudge her firm clit to help her orgasm along. You wrench her hand away by the wrist and thrust your hips against her, completely engulfing her pussy with yours and effectively pinning her back to the carpet. Only a soundless moan rumbles out of her when you finally take control.

"Not gonna stop." Kiss. "Cum for me. Let me watch." Kiss. "Pretty thing."

Her eyes roll back in ecstasy. She's gone in a moment. Hips slapping, folds squelching and kissing in sloppy rhythm, your pussy making love to hers like her shitty boyfriend never could. You watch her fall over the deep end and you won't stop until she's done, until she's had enough to shed tears and she's pushing your hips away to take a breath and tremble in the afterglow.

Maybe she isn't a lesbian, maybe she isn't a good girl, and maybe she isn't yours--but there's no doubt in the way you look at her after that you're all hers, in body and in soul.

[ranhaitanisgf]

Hi 👋. Can I have “enemies to lover” and “stuck together” head canons with Ran. They get handcuffed together by their friends. And are forced to spend the day together. And they both realize they aren’t as bad as they thought. Since they were only ‘enemies’ due to some misunderstandings. Maybe reader has to go through her schedule and Ran just in a forced to tag along. So they go grocery shopping, he sees her taking care of siblings, etc. Ran teases her a lot as well. Thanks!

— ran haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together

[𖤐] haii i once again just cranked this out w/o thinkin abt it sawr. idk !! i am so tired rn i cant even tell if this is good but wtv lmk if its good or not lol. i hope you all enjoy xoxo !

wc ; 1.8k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

❥ when you felt something cold and metal click on your wrist as you were getting ready to leave school, you were certainly not expecting to come face to face with ran haitani, and you were especially not expecting for the thing around your wrist to be a pair of handcuffs, the other end being attached to his own wrist. when you glanced at the people next to him, you could only sigh, seeing his brother and your best friend grinning devilishly, (you swore you’d only seen that look on rindou’s face when he was beating someone up, which seemed unlucky for you somehow). 

“can you guys stop fucking around and take these off? i have things to do.”  “heyyy, that’s so mean to me, (y/n)! i’ll come by your place and take them off at the end of the day, but for now they’re staying on! you’ll thank me later!”  “what?! get back here-! ugh, already gone…” 

❥ you stood there for a few moments, wondering if you should just drag ran along with you and chase after the pair until they let the two of you go. you’re not really concerned about whatever is on ran’s schedule for the day, but you’re more worried about how you have to get all of my responsibilities done. you have to go to the grocery store, pick up tonight’s dinner, cook dinner, help with your sibling’s homework, do your own homework, and one of them ask for you to bake something for their school? that was also going to take time, but maybe-

“hellooo, earth to (y/n)? you there?”  “yeah, i was just thinking. you heard of it?” “guys would probably like you more if you were cute instead of so aggressive, y’know~”  “do you ever shut up about stupid shit for more than two seconds? you know what, don’t even answer that. i have stuff to do that’s more important than your stuff, so let’s go.” 

❥ on the walk to the grocery store, you heard quite a number of complaints from ran about how ‘he’s a busy guy’ and ‘i’ve got stuff to take care of too!’, but frankly, you just dragged him along anyways. you knew that if there was anything seriously important on his schedule that he would probably be more serious, but given the teasing tone of his voice, you completely ignored him. 

❥ walking through the aisles of the grocery store was a bit of a challenge given the special circumstances, especially with the fact that ran was like some kind of child, popping random snacks into the cart when you weren’t looking. it didn’t help that the two of you received some very strange looks, people whispering about god knows what as you walked by, (you could never come back here). 

“what’s with all this stuff you’re getting anyways?”  “for my siblings.”  “you have siblings? how many?” “three younger; two brothers and a sister.” 

❥ there wasn’t a whole lot of serious talking during the shopping trip aside from that, but you noticed that ran seemed very pensive when he learned that information. you probably would have thought about his sudden seriousness a bit more if you weren’t very eager to get out of this store, (though you had to admit, he was somewhat cute when he was serious). 

❥ the walk to your home proved to be just a tad bit awkward; there wasn’t a whole lot of words exchanged between the two of you. you weren’t sure what you were even supposed to say given the situation, so you just decided to stay quiet, which is what ran had seemingly also decided. at least, until he suddenly spoke up. 

“do you do this everyday?”  “hm? yeah, on days when i’m not working.” “working? isn’t there some school rule that you can’t have a job?”  “yeah, that’s why i work in yokohama.” “yokohama?!”  “yep.”

❥ for the next few minutes there was no other words spoken, but he grabbed some of the grocery bags out of your hands, carrying a couple more bags than you were. 

❥ this was one of the only times you had ever seen him this serious, and it was throwing you a bit off. he was usually the stark opposite of serious, so to see this new side to him made you wonder what he could be hiding. just a moment after you turned the idea over in your head, the teasing tone was back in ran’s voice. 

“so, you’re finally able to be seen with me in public, hm~ how does it feel?”  “what’re you talking about?”  “just so you know, it isn’t cute to play dumb, sweetcheeks.”  “um, seriously, what are you talking about?” 

❥ you’re still unsure of how to feel about the words exchanged between the two of you during the rest of the walk; honestly, you had always disliked him because of the way that he disregarded the fact that he was quite privileged to be able to attend school and therefore almost never attended, but you’d never hated him for something small like that. and sure, maybe you thought it was stupid that he was always beating people up, but to be honest, it wasn’t exactly any of your business in the first place, so why would you care? 

❥ he revealed to you in short time that he had been informed that you were embarrassed to be seen with him at all, which was why he disliked you, (you never recalled even thinking such a thing, so you were really questioning the source of his information). 

❥ he’d even acknowledged the points you’d told him about school, ran even mentioning that he was trying to catch up on his studies so that he could maybe still graduate with the rest of the grade, (the amount of work he had missed was incomparable to any other student aside from rindou). 

❥ you felt a little bit relieved when the two of you arrived at your house, entirely because you didn’t want to think too much about ran haitani right now. you have other priorities, and thinking about ran haitani can wait until later. 

❥ when you opened the door and slid your shoes off, you could hear the pitter-patter of little footsteps running to the front door. your siblings all ran for you, wrapping themselves around your legs and hugging your side as they all talked at once. 

“i missed you so much!”  “school today was so boring, and at lunch-” “what’s for dinnerrrrr, i’m sooooo hungry!” 

❥ despite all of the overlapping of the sentences, you still responded to each one of your siblings with patience and kindness, making ran’s heart skip a few beats, (he’s ignoring why). 

❥ when your siblings asked about the boy next to you, you just said that he was ‘some guy from school’, but the teasing wink you sent his way did something to him. he had only ever seen the side of you that was always slightly annoyed with him, so this was truly the first time he had ever seen you even somewhat outside of this norm. 

❥ he thought it was pretty nice :)

❥ he helped you set all the groceries on the counter, even taking them out of the bags and handing the cold items to you as you put them in refrigerator. the sudden change in the relationship between the two of you did feel a little bit weird, but it was somehow in the best way possible. as you cooked dinner, the playful banter between the two of you as he watched you cook and helped with prepping ingredients was honestly refreshing, which was something you never thought you would think about ran haitani. 

“hmm, i bet i can shop a carrot faster than you~”  “oh really? you realize i’ve been chopping carrots for a long time?”  “you’re not the only one who cooks dinner around here, doll.”  “okay then, you’re on!” 

❥ maybe it was the fact that you were both older sibling’s, but you somehow felt like he was so understanding of the situation. despite the fact that the both of you were forced to be together after school, here he was, helping you cook dinner for your family and not trying to pull apart the handcuffs, (you had to admit though, it was a challenge to cook with only one hand). 

❥ you also had to admit that seeing ran interact with your younger siblings during dinner completely warmed your heart; his charm was turned up all the way, but with the best intentions possible. he was indulging in all the random talk about their current interests and hobbies, and he even offered to teach one of your younger brothers how to skateboard!

❥ after dinner, you helped out with any homework you could while you did your own homework, telling ran off at the fact that he didn’t collect the homework assignments that he had missed in the past couple of weeks, (he took a couple looks at your paper and what you were working on, then immediately shook his head and said, ‘next time, maybe…’). 

❥ after your siblings were asleep, the two of you even had a blast baking the brownies for your younger sister’s school event! at one point, he threw a handful of flour at you, leaving you covered in the white powder. you both stood there shocked, ran looking at you with a shocked look on his face as if he wasn’t expecting that outcome at all. 

❥ and so went to get your revenge. 

❥ your hand dipped into the container of flour throwing it right back at him, even going so far as to rub it all over his scalp so that his dark roots were now white. you were a bit unnerved by how good he looked when he was laughing, and how melodious his voice was, especially when he was calling your name- stop! what are you even thinking right now?!

❥ the fight eventually died down when the amount of space between the two of you was suddenly very small, both of you slowing down your actions and stopping, looking at each other, (was there some kind of drug in his gaze? why can’t you look away?)

“y’see somethin’ you like?” “w-what?! no! i mean, i was just, i wasn’t even-” “relax, relax, i’m just teasing. you should’ve seen your face though; it was pretty cute~”

❥ and with that, he just continued on with baking the brownies, acting as if what he just said was completely normal. somehow, this technique worked on you, since you also just pretended like nothing happened, though you didn’t step away when you realized the two of you were standing arm to arm at the counter. 

❥ even though you were pretending that nothing had happened, you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt in your stomach, courtesy of ran haitani of all people, (if somebody had told you this morning what would happen, you would have called them a bumbling liar). 

❥ maybe being temporarily attached to him wasn’t so bad…

[umeoniii]

AOT WOMEN + hange as pervs! Please

aot women & hange as pervs

mikasa , hange , annie , pieck , sasha

♪( ´θ｀)

mikasa:

she’s a perv on the low. she’s not super crazy though. and by this i actually quite literally mean it. she’s a very good girl. the most she’ll do is like look up your skirt but then it’s bcs the skirt is kind of flowy. the most “pervy” thing she’ll do is have sexual thoughts of u or touch herself thinkin about u.

hange:

NOW HANGE. she’s the reiner of this one. the restraining order is writing itself. she’s not even a perv, she’s a creep. okay im over exaggerating it a bit though… she’s thirsty as well. SUPER thirsty. super slick with her actions as well. she gets super close, like all over you. it gets passed off as the ‘super touchy friend’. ass, crotch, boobs, stomach, IM TELLING U somehow, SOMEHOW, she’s gonna find a way to touch it. if you are dating her it’s even worse, shame is a word she’s never heard of. says the most outlandish things ever spoken, her actions likewise.

annie:

she’s a low-key perv too. she doesn’t keep it too obvious that her eyes aren’t looking at yours but instead your… “heart”. tries to act as if she’s not, literally belittles u whenever you accuse her of staring at u oddly. her expressions are misleading though. she could easily be checking you out but instead it looks like she’s judgmentally looking at u which just makes u feel worse. i guess it’s good u don’t know what she was actually doing though

pieck:

she’s more obvious. i feel she might not even care tbh. bcs she’s smooth. she’ll slip in a nice compliment about your body and it’ll be taken as a compliment or a quaint joke. though it literally wasn’t. it could be something like “i’ve just now noticed how nice your boobs look” with a neutral expression. and she’s very observant of stuff but like i said she’s actually smooth with it so you’ll never ever know how she actually acts.

sasha:

CRAZY. oh my goodness. she’s not slick with it NOT AT ALL. gosh you literally can tell too, she doesn’t try to hide the perv side.. like she’ll tell you straight up. very touchy, slaps your ass all the time, holds your breasts a lot. she DOES NOT care. obviously if you aren’t even friends she’s not gonna touch you so daringly. but she will sneak a few glances and gropes… but since she’s “silly and goofy” it’s kind of kicked under the carpet.

♡

a/n: at the end of everything im posting is gonna b a personal apology to the anon for taking 2+ months to reply to these requests. if u want a short fic abt any of these characters as pervs pls do request it! (*´ω｀*) hope u guys enjoy it!!

[avo-gal]

Erm so I came up with a new au and I need to yap abt it :3

First up drawings

Alr so basically Hugo is a serial killer who works for Donella and is in love with Varian. So when he's asked to kill Ulla (which he does do) he can't beat to see how sad Varian is so he kills Donella (UwU). Hugos like a master of disguise so he's never gotten caught. And Hugo has been in love with Varian for years (to almost a stalker level) eventually they start getting closer and end up dating and eventually getting married. Now that they're married it's easier for Hugo to kill anyone that's in Varian's way (does Varian know abt any of this? Of course not!)

Varian meanwhile works at a detective agency and for years has been trying to catch the guy that killed his mother and has been stalking him, killing many people he knows, ect, ect. He starts to think the killer could be someone he knows... (Oooh) He thinks that Eugene is the killer bc he's known him longer than anyone else and has been his detective partner for years seeing all of the killers murders. So he goes to his apartment to confront him but.. (bum bum baaah!!) Eugene is DEAD! And it's pretty gruesome It seems like he put up a struggle. So naturally Var FREAKS out!

He cries and runs there's police sirens blaring. He runs into a creepy alley where he crashes into Hugo. At first he's still freaking out crying and hugging Hugo. But then.. he starts putting the pieces together like "wait why r u here? Why do u have blood on u? Why r u wearing those weird clothes?" But he figures it out and is like "HOLY SHIT UR THE KILLER!!" (Womp womp). Hugo (thinking that Varian hates him) gives him a gun and points it to his head telling his husband "what happens next is ur choice now." Whilst Varian is very tempted to pull the trigger and put an end to this he loves Hugo too much and can't do it. Eventually the police are getting close so Hugo runs but leaves Varian a hint of where he's going.

Anyways soz if not much of this makes sense but I'm not goin through and editing all of this.

Also originally I was going to make it Hugo reveals himself on a stage with all the people Varian knows watching as he decides if he loves his husband more than everyone else. But that felt a bit too mean.. (like I can say too mean all I do is bully these idiots) it's also why they were wearing some what fancy clothes in the first drawing.

Okay that's the end of my rant 😁

Edit: I was thinkin abt this and I just realized it doesn't make sense for Varian to think that Eugene is the killer since the killer always refers to var as "my love". (So if u have any ideas for this au please let me know I would love to hear them!!!)

[stuffyflowers]

Ok payback for last one I'm gonna pay you to yap now

Sans/Toriel, Ceroba/Alphys, Starlo/Dalv (Because I'm evil)

Oh, and Sona/Ceroba. I'll give you some respite after throwing in the one I know you hate :3c

Finally back from touching sand and playing with friends I can answer these

Sans and toriel is like staroba to me I honestly don’t care if it’s romantic or not I just think they’re so important to each other regardless of how you personally see em. So makes sense n compels me. Don’t have much more to say honestly no notes. um shoutout to that moment in the pacifist ending where sans steals her phone and pretends to be her im thinkin abt it again,, they’re so cute guys ]: )

Ceroba and alphys is the definition of makes no damn sense but compels me. Like the chances of either of them voluntarily being in the same room as each other for any amount of time is sooo unlikely but ‘women who project their self loathing onto each other bc they recognise their own faults and mistakes in them’ is my favourite ship dynamic right now it’s so good. Obviously alphyne and cerobas friendship with starlo is the healthiest outcome for each of them in their respective pacifist endings but what if they just made each other worse forever and ever actually 💖 Be each others outlet for their own guilt, drag each other further down into a self destructive pit, forever believing they are rotten to the core and no one could ever forgive or understand them… um!

🌽 yaoi booooooo 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅boooooooo🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅utdr fans we need to set higher yaoi standards there’s so much we could be cooking here but the one we’re latching onto is ‘guys who spoke to each other exactly once and have absolutely nothing interesting going on’ yaoi bc haha funny name + only (shippable) men in the main uty cast let’s be real here. Random thing that makes me lol when I think abt it is they’re literally standing as far away from each other as possible at all times in the one scene they’re actually in together like bros…….. there is nothing here. Sorry + no sense + not compelling + go ship starlo/el bailador or something instead im begging

Sonaroba obviously very similar boat to alphys and ceroba. My beloved trio of women who make mistakes that hurt people while trying to help/protect them. Sonaroba is even more interesting to me bc sona is essentially a worse-case-scenario ceroba: she never had that community to pull her out of her spiralling and grow as a person, she controls almost everyone. Staying this stagnant for as long as she has also means she’s even more stubborn than ceroba, too: ceroba is able to see the error in her thinking as soon as martlet is actually given the chance to reason with her, meanwhile sona in the imperfect endings doubles down on her initial perception of the monsters even when she acknowledges beforehand that she was wrong. She just can’t accept it. There’s so much to dig into 4 kcy. How would sona react to finding out what ceroba did, and how similar it is to her situation? Is there a mutual understanding that forms between them after they come clean to each other or does ceroba just become sonas scapegoat, “See? Monsters can’t be trusted! They will lie to and deceive you just to get what they want!” Would ceroba try to save her after the truth comes out by reasoning with her, even in the imperfect ending where she turns all of her friends into humans against their will?? What’s the limit for how far she’s willing to go to save a fucked up reflection of herself? Augh. Anyway. It’s a “kind of makes sense in the context of kissy cutie where the entire plot revolves around getting monsters to date frisks shitty racist aunt but probably not in any other context + COMPELS ME‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️”

[milliemuus]

Possible future stuff (just a snippet ;) ):

Dokutaro: ‘No…no! Impossible! How is my power core destroyed?!’

Kieran: Wait, his colour’s weird, this means, maybe we have a chance now? If so, then…

Ogerpon: *angrily growls while bringing out her cudgel*

Kieran: *puts his hand, blocking Ogerpon* *with rage* No,I’ll take care of this.

*Grabs Dokutaro’s neck while the True Finale starts*

Kieran:

Who are you… To think that could prevail? For all the sins you’ve done, You'll fall on your face and FAIL!!!! Now then! And In The Final hour our HOPE STILL SHINES!! BLINDING THE DARKEST OF NIGHTS… IN THE FINAL… FIGHT!!

AND THERE’S NO WAY THAT YOU’LL EVER BEAT US!!! YES, WE’RE STILL IN OUR PRIME! YOUR OWN END IS NIGH, IT’S TIME WE FLY HIGH!!

You’ll never harm anyone again Like the runt you were, You may have possessed me and and made me harm my family! But when YOU harm my friends?! You're asking for a Kieran smacking! One single KO punch, Will send you sorry runt a-packing!

*Finally, in a fit of rage, Kieran mustered up all his strength, and punched Dokutaro, sending him flying in the air. Finally the second attack is over, but it truly was a Grand Finale*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(v) PV! Pecharunt: And that’s how I got my ass handed by my Kieran.

@tealmaskmybeloved Pecharunt: *grimaced* sheesh, I hope you’re alright.

S&S Dipplins Pecharunt: Now you’re making me feel that I got off easy…

Azure Dive Pecharunt: *curious* Really? What happened?

S&S Dipplins Pecharunt: Well, let’s just say my Kieran was AN ABSOLUTE SIMP, somehow, his simping was able to shrug off my possession for a short while, but it’s really tiring, ugh, I’m SO TIRED…*internally screaming*

Azure Dive Pecharunt: ohhhh, that sounds really annoying to deal with.

(so, ANOTHER IDEA, AND A SNIPPET OF THE PECHAS. So, you said most of your stuff is inspired by BIS, so another lyrical stuff by Juno Songs (credits to him) for Kieran in the Key Change segment. Also, I changed a few things to fit the context)

(and this could be a sequel’s ending since, the final battle is sort of discussed already)

(so maybe?)

(Also, opportunity for the Pechas to interact :), also if S&S Dipplins Pecharunt confusing you, you can go to @dipplinduo and see the asks, he’s the author of the fanfic)

I LOVE THIS IDEA! I'M FINALLY GETTING TO ANSWER BUT I RLLY NEED TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG! I'VE BEEN Listening to the actual BIS soundtrack, and smth funny I've been thinkin abt is a mario-rpg style thing of Project Venus.

So, you know how in BIS the music changes depending on whether you are bowser or the brothers? Esp inside bowser? I wanna make themes based off the inside bowser themes for Kitakami, BB Academy, Area Zero, etc for PV!Kieran, since his POV is technically warped. Like when we first meet him, it's obvs gonna be normal, but it slowly but surely settles in as time goes on because I wanna say there's a side episode of him training (Like Bowser Jrs Journey was a side episode)

I'd love for everyone's Pechas to interact! I'm a bit intimidated even tho I'm mutuals with both dipplinduo (I believe) and I am definitely mutuals with tealmaskmybeloved!

However, I don't think I've heard much abt Azure Dive, but I hella love the name 👀

I wanna find out more abt them, though! I don't see them on my tl much and I get busy, but I'd love if you told me a buncha stuff, if you'd like to! You're definitely not obligated to, by any means!

Also, I'm very sure that PV!Pecha wpuld get the walloping if a lifetime for sure! Maybe not just by Kieran himself, but by Kieran's ancestor, too 😭

In fact, I think that's what I want PVs Mochi Mayhem to be about! Uncovering Pecharunt and Kieran and Carmine's ancestry with Eustace (The Mask Maker) and the sealed curse that Pecharunt has him under! Ooooghh, givin me so many ideas...

[dogcodedcatboy]

rrandom roman headcanons / traits / inane rambling cause im thinkin about him. some of these r supported by canon, some are literally just me playing toys. i have probably mentioned this all before. but. dont caare.

- roman likes sci-fi/space media. robots, ai, aliens. big fan. this is all of course written off by him as nerd shit but he secretly enjoys it. definitely more of a star Wars guy instead of a Star trek guy (who gives a fuck abt space diplomacy??? therr better be explosions + shitty cgi spaceship fights or hes getting bored and walking away from the tv). alien is one of his favorite horror movies. probably watched westworld.

- ik its like a throwaway in the show that he's given the rocket launch to be in charge of but i think itd be cute if he actually liked space. not that he knows anything about the science i just think he thinks its neat. has definitely fallen asleep on the couch to some space documentaries

- other media tastes include whodunits/mysteries. not necessarily for the murder part (i think he prefers heists bc they are less gory and more silly). he really likes the interactive aspect of bothering his boyfriend getting to guess how the story will end

- i think he is v v squeamish abt blood/gore irl and with media. less so his own but others. not very helpful if someone nearby is injured, the most he can offer is some mild reassurances but could never, like, provide any helpful first aid. he hides his face in aarons shoulder when a movie is particularly gory.

- roman has adhd (among other things) and has a hard time focusing on certain tasks. he gets bored easily and just kind jumps from thing to thing. he also loses his stuff frequently and benefits immensely from having a type-a lunatic following him around and keeping track of where he leaves his keys and wallet.

-he's not /messy/ per say. he likes his spaces immaculately neat (because,. hes always had housekeepers...) in absence of that he is Kinda bad at keeping things under control and is woefully unprepared to be a human due to the chronic and incurable rich dandyboy disease. grossed out by washing dishes. has definitely fucked up somehow and flooded aarons apartment while trying to use the washing machine.

- he cannot cook to save his life. again. personal chef, never had to do it for himself. obviously knows how to like. boil pasta and stuff but is so horrifically bad at it. he only needs to employ the tiniest bit of weaponized incompetence and aaron will take over anyway

- roman likes crunchy salty snacks (chips/pretzels/popcorn/etc) but also has a sweet tooth :3c he likes mostly fruity sweets, sour candy, baked goods with berries + lemons and stuff like that. i think he likes mocha, or really any use of espresso in desserts. BIG fan of salty sweet combo ... salted caramel is a favorite. also anything w nuts. he loves hazelnut in particular (nutella right out of the jar in moments of weakness) ... also floral flavors

- he's not a picky eater per say. he's open to eating a lot of different stuff bc he grew up traveling. but his tastes are /expensive/. aaron can easily get him to try weird foods if they're somewhere fancy, but had to literally bribe him in to trying fuckin panda express (even tho he loves noodles. the chain restaurant for commoners is too scary)

[scourgefrontiers]

havin thots. if this makes u uncomfy i understand and u have the freedom to unfollow or block, curate ya own experience i wont be mad

prefacing this by saying i still have my own standards and havent flipped to Supporting certain things, my opinions on the way i view things have just kind of shifted

so theres a convo going on on a post ive reblogged elsewhere abt the morality of portraying certain things in fiction and how it may or may not reflect on the creator irl and it rly made me think abt stuff

ive always been a believer in the idea of fiction 100% affecting reality and that if u write smth nasty theres gotta b a reason for that somehow. but after reading some pieces im kinda thinkin like. idk. i do agree that fiction can affect reality still, i think thats undeniable, and sometimes ppl who write certain things in fiction CAN and ARE actually into those things irl. but now im also of the opinion that not everyone is in that category and some ppl just want to explore things in fiction that they would never ever support or do irl for one reason or another. fiction can affect or reflect reality but in the end fiction is not reality. i think both can be true. just...make sure things are tagged bc a lot of ppl Including Me dont want to see certain shit in their fandom tags.

like idk. i hate certain subjects in fiction like of course pedophilia and underage torture porn and incest and i will never ever support or tolerate those things. but at this point ppl have the right to write about them themselves if it stays in fiction. fiction has always been a place to explore shit without it being done in the real world (even tho again i do know some ppl Do like these things irl. just not everybody). i feel like i would be a hyprocrite if i condemned everyone who writes content like that and then turned around and continued indulging in my own interests like at the very least the violence and murder in dragon ball and the other evil/problematic characters im interested in. ive literally written some brutal murder shit and...well. zamasu and goku black. thats all i rly need to say abt that lol.

that being said the anti/proship shit is still stupid as hell to me. i dont condone attacking ppl and dogpiling and witch hunting for writing nasty shit even if it grosses me out personally, but i also cant stand ppl who make being into fictional gross shit Their Entire Personality and act like theyre doing something by flaunting it. yknow. both extremes are stupid and i wish it would die already

so ya. i most likely wont b making any posts abt that shit in the future, im getting too old to be stressing abt shit like that. if someone squicks me out im going to block. thats it. and if you dont tag your shit im also blocking and then strangling you on top of it. thats all