#many bc theyre good barter tools but also bc ooooooooo shiny

[snickerdoodlles]

#something something how viscerally the realization that Pran was the only thing keeping Pat afloat ripped through me #why is that hot #cookie explain the feelings you are inciting in me #TAKE RESPONSIBILITY #bad buddy#bad buddy fic (via @faillen​ )

hello friend!! ilu dearly and i’m here to make it worse!! :D

did you know fish have taste receptors almost all over their body?

not only do they have a lot more taste buds and have a wider taste spectrum than we do, but they can also taste food just by swimming near it. i might not have been able to fit in Pran licking water from Pat’s skin, but he’s still savouring his favorite snack >:3c

📚

Give me the chaos of your mid you little hellion. Give me the au’s that are stewing away in there. Give me the angst and the fluff and the found family and the shenanigans and the love and allow me to go fucking feral as I read the brain rot.

PatPran mermaid AU. which, tbh, is as far as i've gotten for the most part. idk what the story is that accompanies this *waves hand* fic bit, but there's definitely something in there to discover

other kind of splendor (rated T, 1484w)

Pat visits his grandparents in their small coastal town in Chumphon. It's a small, charming place, where the homes and the trees are nestled close to thing strips of white sand beaches and the waters are deep blue. Pat takes the drive alone with only the radio and nostalgia for company and gets fussed over twice as much by his grandparents as soon as he arrives. On his first night there, Pat escapes after dinner and stands on a sliver of rock littered beach and lets the cold salty air wash away the city from his skin. Under the endless starry night and before the black sea dripped in silver, his stress and worries dissolve like sea foam on the shore.

In the morning, he's conscripted by his grandpa to help with home repairs and by his grandma to help her with her market run, but Pat's afternoon is all for him. He turns to the sea, just as he always does. The shore here dives away steep and quick, delightfully alien compared to the shallow sand beaches closer to home. Pat has many a fond memory of him and Paa diving as deep as they could bear, until their ears popped from the pressure and they floated free from gravity. This afternoon, Pat takes his grandma's old surfboard and paddles until his arms grow heavy. This far out, the beach is just a white scratch between the ocean and the forests, and the sea below his wiggling toes is an endless dark abyss.

It's peaceful, way out here. Pat can lay back on his board, limbs trailing through the cool waters like a balm to the warm sunlight beating down on his chest, and it feels like it's truly just him alone in the world. Storm season is a distant memory this time of year, with only the most gentle lapping waves to disturb him, and Pat drifts peacefully as time trickles by.

Pat's singing his favorite radio songs to the wind when something brushes along the sole of his foot. He yelps and yanks his feet onto his board, wobbling dangerously as his board protests his jerky movements. Pat manages to stay upright, not that it means much. The sun's sunk deep towards the horizon and its warm golden light slants across the water's surface in a golden mirror, only disturbed by the ripples flashing peeks of the deep dark abyss rising closer as the sun sinks lower. Pat thinks it was kelp that tickled him, but it's hard to tell for sure—anything else that's with him, whether that be innocent kelp or fish or something far more sinister, it well and truly hidden. Suddenly, the far distant shore is keenly missed. Pat tries peeking into his shadow to see if that might reveal anything, legs and arms still firmly tucked on his board, when a voice comes from behind him.

"You're a terrible singer."

Pat startles and whips around, rocking his board dangerously once again. A small laugh inflames Pat's ire, but all is forgotten when Pat gets a good look at his new company. A man smoothly bobs beside him, in the patch of water where the sunlight shines the brightest. His lips are curled into a bemused, close-lipped smile, and the golden light catches and gleams a fiery gold in the trails of water trickling down his skin. He's the most beautiful man Pat's ever seen, and Pat stares at him dumbly until his brain comes back online well enough to properly register what the man had said.

"Hey! I'm not that bad!" Pat protests hotly. The other grins meanly and Pat's nose scrunches defensively. "It's not like I'm out here trying to sing opera or something."

The man tilts his head, eyebrows faintly wrinkled as he mouths the word 'opera' to himself. This is also when the rest of Pat's brain finally catches up to him and Pat goes stiff with newfound wariness.

They are a long ways from shore. It is very, very odd for a swimmer to have swum out this far and not sound winded in the slightest. Even stranger for him to have arrived without Pat having heard his approach at all.

Pat opens his mouth, questions bursting on his tongue, but then the man opens his as well, and out comes the sweetest sound Pat's ever heard.

"Kwam rak man keu lok ti suay ngam—"

Pat blinks dazedly as the singer drifts closer. The sunlight seems brighter than it did before in a brilliant halo around them.

"That's not opera," Pat protests dumbly.

An outraged dimple flashes on the man's cheek before he goes back to singing, just as sweetly as before. "Reu bpen arai ti du chang ying yai—"

Pat doesn't realize he's put his legs back in the water until kelp tickles his leg again. The sensation jerks Pat's attention back to the golden lit water. "Hey—"

"Tao gap tongfa tao gap phukao, tao gap tale reu dtong mak kae nai—"

The song sweeps through Pat's mind like a gentle but overwhelming wave. His gaze is pulled right back to the vision bobbing alongside his board. The light shines brilliant gold around them. This close, Pat can see what he'd mistaken for water droplets on the man's chest are little scales reflecting the sunlight. The tickling sensation along his leg confirms it when the man's tail sweeps against it.

The mermaid's no longer singing Thai, but rather some strange yet sweet language that echoes like gentle tides upon the rocks and curls softly like rainfall upon water. He rises from the sea like a dream, hands outstretched to cup Pat's cheeks. His fingers are impossibly smooth and petal soft. Pat has the distant notion, in a part of his mind that feels far away as the rest of him is pulled into a trance, that he's about to be kissed.

The mermaid continues to sing to him, bobbing in the water, and Pat leans closer in millimetre increments, until his board wobbles threateningly. The mermaid's fingers trail across his jaw to tangle in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Pat can feel the mermaid's breath breeze across his cheeks as the mermaid's song reaches its peak. It's only because Pat's watching those sweet lips so close that he sees the instant the mermaid's smile turns wicked. Pat has just enough of a second to suck in a startled gasp of air before the fingers in his hair turn cruel and the mermaid yanks him into the water.

In and down they go. Air bubbles from his lips and catches in beads between them. Pat's ears pop furiously and the mermaid's tail beats against his legs as they go down and down into the dark waters below them, until Pat's lungs ache and he struggles in the mermaid's hold. Then the mermaid flips and pumps them back to the surface.

Pat bursts through the water with his head thrown back and gasping desperately for air. Water streams into his eyes which ache from the salt, and Pat clumsily treads water as he tries to wipe down his face. "Prannnnnnnnn."

Pran's laughter is the lap of small waves on beach rocks, the gentle gurgle of a stream letting out into the ocean. Pat manages to find his surfboard so he can prop one arm on it and spit out the rest of the brine he'd swallowed on their dive. His mermaid circles him like a predator, laughter ringing out across the waves all the while. His tail, shining with the deep golds, pink corals, and warning reds of a sun setting before a storm, teases the surface of the water around him.

Pat shakes the water from his hair and combs it back under Pran's hungry stare. "Aren't we a little old for this game?" he complains without ire.

Pran smiles wickedly. His teeth gleam like knives. "I can find someone else to play with, if you'd like."

Pat snaps his head around and glares. "Pran."

Pran vanishes underwater with another giggle. He's invisible from the surface, barely even a ripple to be seen. Pat doesn't dip below to find him, too eager to be prey in their game, and soon he's rewarded with a hand on his hip and Pran emerging soundlessly between Pat and his board.

Pran stares at the board before he shoves it away, turning smug when Pat scrabbles to grab hold of his shoulders instead. Pat laughs and tucks his head into the soft skin in the crook of Pran's neck, Pran effortlessly treading water for the both of them.

Pat drags his nose against Pran's cool cheek. "You playing with me, Mr. Pran?"

Pran's grip around his waist tightens and he grins, his dark eyes gleaming hungrily. "Always."

Pat laughs and claims his kiss, and his mermaid pulls them beneath the rippling waves.

[[ask me about the fic im not writing]]