#striped anchovy

[t00thpasteface]

54 common fish of texas, part 3: bay anchovy (Anchoa mitchilli), striped anchovy (Anchoa hepsetus)

[ask-annamary]

Oh you like fish? Then name every fish!!!

(/j)

Halibut, Ranchu, Tilapia, Sarcastic Fringe Head, Molamola, Salmon, Bluefin Tuna, Wolf Eels, Butanding, Plecos, Pacific Spiny Lumpsuckers, Brown Smoothhounds, Bangus, Lapu lapu, Betta Fish, Cookie Cutter sharks, Moray Eels, Ribbon Eels, Stingrays, Mobula Rays, Great White Sharks, Thesher Sharks, Lampreys, Hagfish, Gulper Eels, Lantern Fish, Angler Fish, Barreleye Fish, Sardines, Anchovies, Carp, Koi, Stargazers, Pufferfish, Flounders, Rock Fish, Remora, Hammerhead Sharks, Leopard Sharks, Wobbegongs, California Sheephead, Pearlfish, Lungfish, Catfish, Sturgeon, Trout, Pike, Arrowana, Arrapaima, Goonch Catfish, Electric Catfish, Clownfish, Yellow Tangs, Angelfish, Alligator Gars, Striped Bass, White Bass, Sea Bass, Parrot Fish, Archer Fish, Frogfish, Batfish—

Okay, I’m tired of this joke now. I hope I was able to list off a fish you haven’t heard of before. Goodbye.

[ironychan]

Sometimes I look at the stars and think about how incomprehensibly distant and huge and violent they are, and how they do alchemy in their cores as their light shines on worlds I can't begin to imagine. I look at Jupiter and think about how it has stripes and spots and moons, and a little spinning spacecraft orbiting it that was built by creatures like me. And I'm really glad I live in the 21st century because knowing what the anchovies in the sky really are makes them ten thousand times more wonderful.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #309

Anchovies!

Some anchovy species can grow as long as 40 cm (15 and a half inches) while some can be as small as only 2 cm (1 inch)! Anchovies are typically greenish in colour but appear blue or grey due to a reflective stripe running along their sides.

[ivory--raven]

Day 19. Dagon has a good day. There is an eel. Michael appears to fishermen.

Dagon’s in an ocean somewhere. It doesn’t particularly matter where, and she isn’t sure, she’d just chosen somewhere and found them: humans. Human fishermen. They’ll regret coming out today. She’s menacing them, taking the form of a horrible creature and vanishing into the waves every time they look around. They can’t catch any fish, and she’s filling them with a horrible sense of unease, and they’re not sure why.

Dagon cackles.

Then there’s light and that annoying sound angels make when they want to be grand and glorious. “Killjoys,” Dagon mutters, hiding under the water again.

There is only one angel and it’s her. It’s Michael. She’s stunning. Dagon watches, transfixed, drawn to her like prey to a deep sea anglerfish’s lure. Not prey. She thinks about fusing, letting her carry her everywhere. She could live like that. Maybe, she thinks, she understands why anglerfish do it, for a reason other than they were designed that way.

But no. She won’t. She can’t, anyway. They aren’t anglerfish. Michael is an angel, Dagon is a demon. Having spoken before doesn’t mean anything.

Michael speaks to the fishermen, and they are stunned and awed, as well they should be, puny mortals getting to look at her. They don’t deserve to keep their eyes after this. They don’t deserve to keep their heads attached to their shoulders. Michael lets them go, sends them off, and they are fine.

“Come out,” Michael says then.

Dagon, now less a horrible creature, pokes her head above the surface. Her shiny blue-green-silver scales flash in the angelic light above the murky water. Now she’s not keeping them away fish appear, nuzzling at her hands. They trust her. Nobody trusts her.

“You,” says Michael.

“Hello again,” says Dagon.

“I should smite you,” says Michael, and summons a spear. “Leave the humans alone.”

Dagon makes a show of looking around and seeing no humans, the fishermen having left very quickly with Michael’s help. “Is that a new spear? It looks nice.”

Michael falters. “It - it is.”

Dagon hasn’t been smitten yet. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” she teases. “For the compliment?”

“Demons don’t compliment angels,” Michael says.

“Of course not,” says Dagon. “Silly me. I’m terribly sorry, O Archangel Michael, Defender, knower of demons-”

“Did you-”

“I looked you up,” Dagon says. “Knew I recognised you.”

Michael looks briefly proud, then not, as if remembering her company. “You have a lot of fish there with you.”

“I do,” says Dagon, and looking around her Michael is right. She is utterly surrounded by fish of all sizes, tiny ones to big ones, even a few Porbeagle sharks, bluefin tuna, and a basking shark. They crowd around her, brushing against her. It’s a wonder they aren’t eating each other. She kisses a smaller Porbeagle shark on the snout. “Lovely things, aren’t they?”

“I’d never thought about it,” Michael admits.

Dagon spins in the water. “Come on down then, say hello. Unless you’re too high and mighty for the wonders of Creation?”

Michael shifts, then hovers down to skim the surface. She’s been challenged. Dagon grins at her.

“Here, look. This little guy’s an anchovy.” Dagon holds him up, safely encapsulated in a bubble of saltwater, and he sits complacent in her hands.

Michael inspects him like she’s never seen a fish before. Maybe the Archangel Michael really is too important to bother with ordinary fish. “Very shiny scales. I like that.”

He does shine. He’s blue and green and silver and his stripe is gorgeous. She tells him so, releases him back to the sea, where he nips around her elbows. He’s happy. She’s made him happy. She’s smiling at him when she remembers Michael. “So. You’ve never seen a fish before or…”

“I’ve seen fish before. I hadn’t looked.” Michael locks eyes with Dagon. “I have now.”

Then she disappears. Dagon has made the Archangel Michael look at a fish. What an achievement, she thinks, rolling her eyes. Nothing commendation-worthy.

An eel nudges against her, and she runs a finger along its side, sharing warmth. “Hello, you,” she tells it. Satan help her, she’s smiling again.

[atomarium]

your ask box wanted an ask in it

do you like fish

Who doesn't

I like all kinds of fishes

Here is my top 250 fishes

1. Salmon

2. Tuna

3. Cod

4. Trout

5. Bass

6. Snapper

7. Mackerel

8. Halibut

9. Swordfish

10. Sardines

11. Haddock

12. Flounder

13. Mahi-mahi

14. Catfish

15. Perch

16. Tilapia

17. Carp

18. Pike

19. Anchovy

20. Herring

21. Grouper

22. Sole

23. Barracuda

24. Bluefish

25. Redfish

26. Wahoo

27. Pompano

28. Yellowtail

29. Rockfish

30. Bluegill

31. Walleye

32. Whitefish

33. Rainbow trout

34. Lingcod

35. Skate

36. Bluefin tuna

37. Striped bass

38. Marlin

39. Sturgeon

40. Eel

41. Butterfish

42. Wolffish

43. Opah

44. Tilefish

45. Drum

46. Tilapia

47. Gurnard

48. Threadfin

49. Monkfish

50. Opaleye

51. Triggerfish

52. Cutlassfish

53. Pomfret

54. Bullhead

55. Croaker

56. Tautog

57. Sheepshead

58. Wrasse

59. Parrotfish

60. Hogfish

61. Porgy

62. Permit

63. Amberjack

64. Bonito

65. Tilefish

66. Croaker

67. Hogfish

68. Mullet

69. Ribbonfish

70. Drum

71. Saury

72. Tarpon

73. Mullet

74. Bluefish

75. Garfish

76. Wels catfish

77. Gizzard shad

78. Bowfin

79. Stickleback

80. Freshwater drum

81. Sucker

82. Bullhead

83. Sculpin

84. Mooneye

85. Goby

86. Chub

87. Mudminnow

88. Dace

89. Silverside

90. Lamprey

91. Minnow

92. Darter

93. Smelt

94. Sunfish

95. Sturgeon

96. Shad

97. Sablefish

98. Greenland cod

99. Hake

100. Grenadier

101. Cobia

102. Tilefish

103. Pollack

104. Oarfish

105. John Dory

106. Swai

107. Largemouth bass

108. Atlantic cod

109. Kingfish

110. Wolffish

111. Skate

112. Arctic char

113. Goby

114. Lumpfish

115. Gourami

116. Gar

117. Codling

118. Butterfish

119. Blenny

120. Wrasse

121. Roach

122. Rainbow smelt

123. Peacock bass

124. Pompano

125. Pikeperch

126. Minnow

127. Leatherjacket

128. Jackfish

129. Halibut

130. Gurnard

131. Grouper

132. Grunion

133. Grunt

134. Greenling

135. Grayling

136. Gray mullet

137. Grass carp

138. Goldfish

139. Golden perch

140. Ghost carp

141. Garfish

142. Fusilier

143. Flathead

144. Filefish

145. Electric eel

146. Dogfish

147. Doctor fish

148. Dory

149. Dolphin fish

150. Dolly Varden

151. Dogfish

152. Drum

153. Dusky grouper

154. Dunkleosteus

155. Dusky shark

156. Duckbill

157. Driftfish

158. Dragonet

159. Dorado

160. Donzella

161. Dolphinfish

162. Dogfish

163. Dogtooth tuna

164. Dogfish

165. Dory

166. Dusky grouper

167. Dunkleosteus

168. Dusky shark

169. Duckbill

170. Driftfish

171. Dragonet

172. Dorado

173. Donzella

174. Dolphinfish

175. Dogfish

176. Dogtooth tuna

177. Eel

178. Emperor

179. Eleuth

180. Elephantfish

181. Eelpout

182. Elver

183. Escolar

184. European flounder

185. European seabass

186. European perch

187. Flathead grey mullet

188. European eel

189. Eagle ray

190. Eastern mosquitofish

191. Eastern little tuna

192. Eastern mudminnow

193. European minnow

194. European sprat

195. Emperor tetra

196. Emperor angelfish

197. Emperor bream

198. Emporer red snapper

199. Emperor sole

200. Emperor shrimp

201. Emperor scorpionfish

202. Escolar

203. False trevally

204. False cat shark

205. False scad

206. False trevally

207. False cat shark

208. False scad

209. Fantail darter

210. Fathead minnow

211. Fathead sculpin

212. Featherfin squeaker

213. Fingerfish

214. Fire goby

215. Firefish

216. Flabby whalefish

217. Flagfish

218. Flat loach

219. Flathead catfish

220. Flathead grey mullet

221. Flathead

222. Flathead sole

223. Flounder

224. Flying gurnard

225. Flying fish

226. Freshwater butterflyfish

227. Freshwater drum

228. Freshwater eel

229. Freshwater garfish

230. Freshwater hatchetfish

231. Freshwater shark

232. Frigate mackerel

233. Frill shark

234. Frostfish

235. Fuji fish

236. Finescale triggerfish

237. Four-eyed fish

238. Fringe-scale sardine

239. Fullscale sculpin

240. Fulmar

241. Fusilier

242. Galjoen fish

243. Gaper

244. Garibaldi

245. Garpike

246. Ghost fish

247. Ghost flathead

248. Giant catfish

249. Giant danio

250. Giant gouram

What is your favorite fish ? :3

[heaven-surrounds-you]

your cats... show them to me... please...🙏

I have too many cats but that’s bc I also take care of an outdoor feral cat community. Anyways here’s the indoor cats going in birth order.

MY TUMBLR WONT LOAD THE PICTURES FOR SOME REASON??? ONCE IT DOES ILL SHOW THEM TO YOU.

Beans (5 years old, gray tabby with orange eyes)

Her real name is Athena but when she was a baby she almost got crushed by a family sized can of Bush’s Baked Beans so. Beans.

I trained her to high five and do handshakes last year when I was extremely high and waiting on my food to warm up. I’m currently teaching her the difference between my left and right hand.

Got in trouble last week for ripping open and eating bags of kitten food for the outdoor cats even though she has plenty of food.

Val (4 years old, tortie with orange eyes, Beans’ niece)

Her name is short for Valentine but I mainly just call her Mouse bc she has a very tiny face and big ears

She is married to my dog. They are wives and there’s no debating it.

Her favorite color is dark blue. And her favorite toy is a dark blue spiral hair tie. She chirps whenever she finds it and will carry it around the house.

Cupid (4 years old, brown tabby with a bit of tortie and orange eyes, Val’s sister)

She will mother anything. She loves playing mom.

Insanely moody with me and everybody except Anchovy for absolutely no reason.

Is generally pretty good but will try to kill you if you touch her feet.

Beetlejuice (almost 3, brown tabby with mostly black on his back and orange eyes)

My son. He never stops screaming. He yearns at all hours of the day and has woken me up multiple times.

His name came from the pattern on his back, which I don’t have a good picture of. But it’s mostly black except for two brown stripes that run down his spine, and then he has symmetrical circle shapes on either side of his stomach — which resemble the segmentation of a beetle.

The name also stuck bc he insists that everything is about him and he needs to be the center of attention. He is a menace and has been permabanned from my bedroom for trying to eat one of my joints.

Mr Hyde (almost 3, brown tabby but with a more silvery-tone in the browns, orange eyes, Beetle’s twin)

His name became fitting bc his brother chases and attacks him relentlessly to the point he spends all of his time hiding in the master bedroom closet.

Whenever he comes out he will stand up and give me hugs, so his nickname is Mr Huggy. If you pet him for long enough his eyes drift apart and he purrs while sticking his tongue out.

He’s a sweet little man and has the same beetle-like pattern, just in a cooler tone of browns.

Anchovy (almost 1, orange tabby with orange eyes)

I found him outside getting bullied by the other feral cats with no nearby siblings or momma. He was sick and tiny so I brought him in and took care of him myself. Cupid and Val adopted him and took care of him whenever I wasn’t feeding him. I think he might be inbred or at least stunted bc he’s very very Small for his age but that’s ok bc we love him.

He gets along with literally all of the other cats??? Which is insane to me bc I stg every other day they’ll just start having beef with each other. But he loves them and they love him.

Genuinely has never done anything bad in his entire life. He’s literally always happy and it amazes me. He’s just a little guy and he loves to play. The worst things he’s done has been eating frowup (that was not his) and messing up the blinds trying to eat a stinkbug. He’s just the perfect little boy.

[kate-les-bridge-stewart]

I have more misc and osgate merfolk au hcs

Kate being an orca makes her a carnivore naturally

Also the rest of the lethbridge-stewarts are all whales and dolphins. The Brigadier was actually a sperm whale

As for... the inevitable problem that comes with a world of anthropomorphic animals, carnivores can eat synthetic meat products if they so choose. However there are also nonsentient animals that it is socially acceptable to eat.

For example krill, sardines, anchovies, minnows, typically small fish like that never manifest as merfolk so they are considered the same way we see cows or chickens as livestock

Though because it's the open ocean some people, including kate, prefer hunting for their food for fun

Osgood being a blanket octopus makes her a carnivore too, but she prefers to just buy her food rather than go thru the effort of hunting it.

Kate would've loved going hunting with her dad as a lil calf which carried to her adulthood :3

Also, another bit of world building lore, certain merfolk who are especially slow moving are considered disabled and use certain mobility gear to help them in everyday life!

For example, Clara being a blue dragon sea slug, her top swimming speed is like 6 mph or 9 kph... and that's when she's drunk 5 redbulls and taken a shot of pure adrenaline

So for merfolk like her, they'd use something like the seaglide from subnautica, a handheld propeller that they can use to swim much faster

Another thing, although human/merfolk civilization in this universe is very much like irl society, there are certain things in merfolk civilization that we might consider, sticking to more "wild" behaviors, if that makes sense?

Like kate and her kids being porpoises, kate an orca, Gordon being a striped dolphin, and her other kid being an orca, they often like swimming together and can communicate with echolocation

Fun fact, orcas and dolphins actually communicate using their own very complex language made up of squeaks, whistles, clicks, and so on. I think the Stewarts would not only be fluent in this but they speak it to each other when they wanna have a more private conversation or just for fun

@technicallywrite @callmekamel so yes, karaoke nights at the stewarts is very loud, very loud 😅😂

Here's a cute little addition related to that, whenever kate laughs she makes squeaking noises on top of her normal laugh hehehe :3

Now it will vary between merfolk but even though kate and osgood are carnivores, they can still eat seasonings and plant based spices

Because they're in such small quantities it has barely any effect on them so they can eat it just fine. No bland spiceless food in the Osgate household!

[fssgsetlunch]

Nước mắm miền Trung ( Central fish sauce )

Dọc miền Trung là biển, các con thuyền ở đây ra khơi mang về con cá cơm tươi ngon và đây là nguồn nguyên liệu tuyệt vời để người dân nơi đây làm ra những chai nước mắm nhĩ thơm ngon.

Những người dân làng chài với kinh nghiệm của mình bằng phương pháp thủ công ủ cá cơm trong vòng gần 1 năm và lọc để thu được mắm nhĩ. Khi mà các loại nước mắm công nghiệp có sự góp mặt của hoá chất khiến mọi người lo lắng, thì nước mắm nhĩ truyền thống của người miền Trung là lựa chọn tuyệt vời cho bữa cơm của mỗi gia đình.

Nước mắm được làm thủ công nên vị thơm là tự nhiên và vị mặn đậm đà hơn nước mắm khác, nhưng đảm bảo an toàn mọi người yên tâm sử dụng. Mọi người dùng nêm nếm món ăn hay pha làm nước chấm thì vô cùng tuyệt vời.

Nước Mắm Cá Cơm Nguyên Chất đặc sản miền trung được sản xuất hoàn toàn theo quy trình thủ công, truyền thống, không phụ gia hay chất bảo quản, không thạch tín. Thơm ngon đến giọt cuối cùng. Cá cơm loại 1 được chọn lựa kỹ càng, ướp muối chuẩn tỷ lệ. Khi ra thành phầm, nước mắm có màu tươi tự nhiên, thơm ngon vô cùng Nước Mắm Cá Cơm Nguyên Chất được lấy nguyên liệu từ con cá cơm đen - loại cá cơm có giá trị dinh dưỡng và cho màu sắc cao nhất trong các loại cá cơm khác như: cá cơm trắng, cá cơm sọc, cá cơm thường. Và khi làm mắm sẽ lấy nguồn nguyên liệu đánh bắt theo mùa vào khoảng từ tháng 8 - tháng 12 âm lịch hàng năm. Cá cơm thời điểm này mình dày, mập mạp khi làm nước mắm cá cơm sẽ có mùi đặc trưng, độ đạm cao hơn. Để làm nên chai nước mắm cá cơm ngon nhất phải trải qua công đoạn muối mắm kì công giữa cá cơm + muối và quá trình thủy phân các protein từ thịt cá. Những enzym nằm ngay trong ruột cá là một trong những yếu tố quan trọng tác động đến quá trình này. Đó cũng là lý do vì sao tỉ lệ giữa thịt cá và ruột cá vừa đủ sẽ đảm bảo chai nước mắm ngon nhất. Và cá cơm là loại cá có tỉ lệ giữa thịt cá và ruột cá hợp lý nhất. Là yếu tố giúp Nước Mắm Cá Cơm Nguyên Chất có rất nhiều điểm được đặc biệt được ưa chuộng trên thị trường.

Central fish sauce:

Along the central region is the sea, the boats here go out to sea to bring back delicious anchovies and this is a great source of ingredients for people here to make delicious bottles of fish sauce.

The fishermen with their experience by manual method incubate anchovies for nearly 1 year and filter to obtain ear fish sauce. When industrial fish sauces with the presence of chemicals make people worry, the traditional fish sauce of the Central people is a great choice for every family's meal.

Fish sauce is handmade, so the aroma is natural and the salty taste is stronger than other fish sauce, but it is safe to use. Everyone uses it to taste the food or make a dipping sauce, it's great.

Pure Anchovy Fish Sauce, a specialty of the central region, is produced entirely by traditional, manual processes, without additives or preservatives, and without arsenic. Delicious to the last drop. Grade 1 anchovies are carefully selected, salted with standard proportions. When it comes to finished products, fish sauce has a fresh natural color and is extremely delicious. Pure Anchovy Fish Sauce is made from raw anchovies - an anchovy with the highest nutritional value and color of all types. other anchovies such as white anchovies, striped anchovies, regular anchovies. And when making fish sauce, we will get seasonal fishing materials from August to December of the lunar calendar every year. Anchovies at this time, I am thick and fat when making anchovy fish sauce will have a characteristic smell, higher protein. To make the best bottle of anchovy fish sauce, it is necessary to go through the process of salting the fish sauce between anchovies + salt and the hydrolysis of proteins from fish meat. Enzymes located right in the gut of the fish are one of the important factors affecting this process. That is also the reason why the ratio between fish flesh and fish intestines is just enough to ensure the best bottle of fish sauce. And anchovies are fish with the most reasonable ratio between fish flesh and fish intestines. As the factor that helps Pure Anchovy Fish Sauce have many points, it is especially popular in the market.

[fictionyoubelieve]

Lead Navigator: Well, you may be aware of the previous attempts at this expedition?

Player: No, what happened?

Lead Navigator: Well, the first barge had some serious design flaws... it didn't float.

Lead Navigator: The second barge suffered from 'feature creep'. Senior museum staff stuck their oar in and added unnecessary features: 'go-faster stripes', a portable fossil centrifuge and a walk-on mini-museum.

Lead Navigator: Needless to say, it had... buoyancy issues.

Lead Navigator: The third barge made it out to sea, but a special sealant was used that attracted sea monsters. They didn't make it very far.

Lead Navigator: The fourth also used a special sealant, this one attracted icebergs.

Lead Navigator: The fifth barge crashed into the sixth.

Lead Navigator: We lost the seventh one.

Lead Navigator: The eighth barge is still here, we think. An accident involving a magical explosion and some talking anchovies means that it is now believed to reside 12 seconds out of phase.

Lead Navigator: The ninth version was built using magic logs. The barge gained some form of rudimentary sentience. It developed serious depression and ran itself aground near Crandor.

Lead Navigator: So, now do you understand why we need your help?

sometimes the OpenAI approach looks like a sick joke: "we pre-trained a network with ten billion parameters on all the joke books from the 1950s we could find, then we fine-tuned it on the manual for Microsoft Flight Simulator and used it to design aircraft, seven of which immediately exploded, three succeeded in taking off before exploding, and one took off and maintained level flight, circled back around, executed a perfect landing, taxied to the gate, and exploded."

[catsoftheclowders]

Groups Outside of Clowders

Deserts Cliffs Barn Cats 

Ducky - massive, fat black and white tom with a short, bent, thin tail. He has a scruffy face and beard, with grey marks on his muzzle. He has orange eyes. He wears a blue bandana. (15 years, 9 months)

Bugs - large, grey and white molly with large, pointed ears. She has a fluffy tail and fluffy cheeks. She wears a green bandana and has green eyes. (7 years, 4 months)

Patches - large, tortoiseshell molly with fluffy cheeks and a fluffy tail. She has a dark chin and cheeks, and wears a purple bandana. Her eyes are orange. (7 years, 4 months)

Cooper - chubby white tabby tom with a long, thin tail, and small pointed ears. He has a bandana around his neck, and is missing his left back foot from the ankle down. His eyes are yellow. (5 years, 2 months)

Haling Cove Dock Cats

Captain - large, imposing brown tabby molly. She has a fluffy, broad head, and a fluffy tail. Her fur along her back drapes over her like a cape. She wears a red collar and has blue eyes. She has a scar across her lower back. (17 years, 6 months)

Blackbeard - massive, grey tom with a black beard and underbelly. He has large, bushy eyebrows and a large fluffy tail. His eyes are dark blue. His left ear is torn, and he has scars on his right wrist and right flank. (11 years, 7 months)

Treasure - extremely tall, white molly with large, floppy ears. She has a long thin tail and a domed face. She wears a gold collar and has yellow eyes. She has a small scar across her muzzle. (10 years, 8 months)

Ahoy - small, fluffy white molly with a dark tabby tail. She has fluffy cheeks and large pointed ears. She has a large, fluffy mane and wears a pink collar. Her eyes are red. she has a scar across her belly and her right cheek. (10 years)

Voyage - lanky, slinky black molly with large, goofy ears, and a long thin tail. Her eyes are green. She has a scar across her left flank, her right shoulder, and the right side of her throat.  (9 years, 5 months)

Neptune - lanky, slinky blue swirled tabby tom with a fluffy tail and mane of fur on the back of his neck. His eyes are yellow. He has a scar across his right knee and up the right side of his jaw. (9 years, 5 months)

Brine - tall, black tom with scattered white spots across his pelt. He has a scruffy neck and a long thin tail. He wears an orange collar and has orange eyes. He has a scar over his left eyebrow and his left hip. (8 years, 7 months)

Cthulu - frazzled, grey swirled tabby jack. Their fur sticks out in all directions, and they have bushy eyebrows. Their eyes are bright green. Their left ear is nicked, and their right shoulder is scarred. (8 years, 3 months)

Nessie - small, grey spotted molly with curly fur. She has no tail and has bright green eyes. Her eyebrows are bushy. She wears a purple belled collar. She has a scar on her right hip. (7 years, 8 months)

Kayak - lean, brown bengal tom with rosettes across his pelt. He has blue eyes and a long, thin tail. He has a small nick on his muzzle. (6 years, 10 months)

Selkie - lean, grey bengal tom with rosettes across his pelt and seal spots down his legs. He has yellow eyes and a fluffy tail. He has a bite mark on his left hip. (6 years, 10 months)

Diver - scrawny blue point molly with wide orange eyes. She has a large, bushy tail and large, rounded ears. (5 years, 8 months)

Anchovy - tiny, skinny silvery grey tom with an extremely long, thin tail. He has large, yellow eyes with beady pupils. (4 years, 9 months)

Guppie - tiny, skinny, dark grey molly with a large, fluffy tail. She has fluffy ears and large, orange eyes with beady pupils. (4 years, 9 months)

Sailor - small, tan and black molly with a white underbelly. She has a dramatic mustache and her fur flows down her back like a cape. She wears a blue and white striped collar and has brown eyes. (3 years, 11 months)

Mahi Mahi - large, yellowish tom with a dark dorsal stripe. He has a large, fluffy tail and a muscular neck. His muzzle is small and domed and his ears are small and usually pinned back. He has a bright green collar around his neck. (3 years, 10 months)

[thedancemostofall]

susan sontag’s likes, dislikes

(Note: this list was published in the second installment of her collected journals here.)

Things I like: fires, Venice, tequila, sunsets, babies, silent films, heights, coarse salt, top hats, large long-haired dogs, ship models, cinnamon, goose down quilts, pocket watches, the smell of newly mown grass, linen, Bach, Louis XIII furniture, sushi, microscopes, large rooms, ups, boots, drinking water, maple sugar candy.

Things I dislike: sleeping in an apartment alone, cold weather, couples, football games, swimming, anchovies, mustaches, cats, umbrellas, being photographed, the taste of licorice, washing my hair (or having it washed), wearing a wristwatch, giving a lecture, cigars, writing letters, taking showers, Robert Frost, German food.

Things I like: ivory, sweaters, architectural drawings, urinating, pizza (the Roman bread), staying in hotels, paper clips, the color blue, leather belts, making lists, Wagon-Lits, paying bills, caves, watching ice-skating, asking questions, taking taxis, Benin art, green apples, office furniture, Jews, eucalyptus trees, pen knives, aphorisms, hands.

Things I dislike: Television, baked beans, hirsute men, paperback books, standing, card games, dirty or disorderly apartments, flat pillows, being in the sun, Ezra Pound, freckles, violence in movies, having drops put in my eyes, meatloaf, painted nails, suicide, licking envelopes, ketchup, traversins [“bolsters”], nose drops, Coca-Cola, alcoholics, taking photographs.

Things I like: drums, carnations, socks, raw peas, chewing on sugar cane, bridges, Dürer, escalators, hot weather, sturgeon, tall people, deserts, white walls, horses, electric typewriters, cherries, wicker / rattan furniture, sitting cross-legged, stripes, large windows, fresh dill, reading aloud, going to bookstores, under-furnished rooms, dancing, Ariadne auf Naxos.

[notecardpasta]

gonna ramble about something dumb here because I’m procrastinating (long post with lots of images below the cut)

I love yellowfin tuna a LOT, they’re cool, they can get fucking huge, blue and yellow are the best colors, they’re warm-blooded,

they got this cool ass tail spike look goin on that can do THIS ( fishingaroundus on ig for gif credit )

you can catch them in animal crossing

and I also just kinda like their face shapes, they’ve got really pointy mouths that make them go like ���< which I think is funny and I’ve even made an OC of one so you know I’m in it deep now naturally I look for merch of these guys a lot, there’s plenty of hats and some cool models but what is sorely missing and what I’d love is a plush, I think its a cute medium let’s go thru a plush journey together. I’ve found that I’m way too picky for my own good

one of the first results is this guy. this one honestly is a pretty good first candidate but its got incredibly juicy cartoon fish lips instead of the •< which gives me immeasurable disappointment

 this one does that as well but also this is a bluefin why are they comparing it to an entirely different tuna. There’s bluefin pics out there

yknow what this one gets points for a decent shape and finally the head looks right but I’m taking them away cuz the stark black fins

The lips are kiiinda beaky? it’s way better than the previous ones that do this but this guy looks emaciated and I feel bad for him. I feel like he’s dried like jerky and I can take a bite like an anchovy snack. saddening because this one actually pays attention to the top and bottom fin being offset a little which I think is cool

....big boy...I know this is that cheap printed material but Big Boy. I can’t properly judge this one. big b

NOW WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. Missing the lateral yellow stripe I like so it might be a bigeye I think? but the fish lips aren’t too heinous and the fins are pretty good shape wise

this one has one of the best faces I’ve seen so far but its a BLUEFIN

b

ohh you’re not a plush but I love you

VERY cute guys but neither are yellowfin

bluefin are more popular to eat because they’re fattier so it explains why the better looking plushes often resemble them but yellowfin are the one I’ve decided to fixate on and they need the gotdamn yellow fins saving the best for last of course: This next fish has the most detailed markings technically speaking but

I think maybe I’ll just make my own someday

[today-only-happens-once]

missing from here, missing from me

Fic title: missing from here, missing from me

word count: 3347

summary: Alberto goes missing. Luca manages as best he can, which is not very well at all. Alberto/Luca, Luca and Giulia as close friends, and some dad!Massimo angst in the background. 

warnings: angst with a happy ending, crying, tension in friendships and family dynamics at times, missing person, mentions of/allusions to experimentation, reckless decision making. Please let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N: First time writing for Luca and it’s an absolute angst fest. Would love to know what you think! Played with structure and style here too, so I hope you enjoy it! <3

--

Luca knows before Giulia’s mother has hung up the phone that something is very wrong. Alberto is the first thought in his head, and it’s the one that does not let go.

He stands up so fast that he knocks back the chair he’d been sitting in as Giulia’s mother gasps. It clatters against the wooden floor and he should probably pick it up but his feet are rooted to the ground and his hands cannot let go of the edge of the table.  Giulia says something, but she sounds like she’s in a faraway tunnel. Her touch on his arm is the only thing that keeps Luca from bolting out the door.

Giulia’s mother says little. “How long ago?” she asks into the reciever, followed by a “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Luca’s stomach has a lead weight as Giulia’s mother turns brown eyes onto her daughter, and then to Luca.

“It’s Alberto,” she confirms. “He’s missing.”

--

The train ride is long. The Italian countryside passes by in a rush of greens and blues and grays. Luca looks out the window and thinks that it would be more beautiful if he was on a Vespa, with Alberto’s chest vibrating beneath his arms as he shouts with eurphoria.

Missing.

Alberto has been missing for 13 hours and Luca feels like there’s a part of him that’s missing too.

--

His own mother and father, in their human forms, are there at the Marcovaldos’ place when Luca opens the door. Giulia runs straight into her father’s embrace, pressing her tear-stained face to his broad shoulders. His rumbling voice offers words of reassurance that Luca doesn’t hear.

Luca stands in the doorway and feels lost.

His mother takes a step towards him, says his name. Luca cannot bring himself to move.

“Where is Alberto?”

--

The police had already come, Giulia’s father explains as the adults drink coffee and Giulia drinks water and Luca tries not to throw up. What if he’s dead? Luca thinks and then immediately: Silenzio, Bruno.

There’s a crease between Signor Marcovaldo’s thick brows and a hunch to his shoulders. He is gripping his mug of coffee so tightly Luca wonders briefly it if might break apart in his hand.

“We’ll find him,” Luca’s father says. Luca opens his mouth to respond when he realizes that his father is looking at Signor Marcovaldo. That the words of reassurance were not meant for his son, but for the other father in the room.

Giulia’s dad sets his cup on the table in front of him and walks out of the room without responding. Luca sees the way he about to slam the door before he stops it, and closes it softly.

--

His parents offer to take him home. Luca uses as few words as possible to explain that he would rather stay here. In case there’s news. Luca expects a fight that is parents don’t give him.

His mother hugs him extra long before they leave. Luca returns it, if only because he knows it will help his mom feel better.

They promise to come back in the morning. Luca nods. He bites his tongue from asking them to stay, too. What if they disappear like Alberto?

--

Giulia is quiet that night. Luca sleeps out on the hideout and tries not to feel like the weight of Alberto’s absence will send him tumbling through the floor and crashing to the ground. Giulia leaves the window open and for that, Luca is grateful.

“Luca?”

“Hm?”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

“Do you think Alberto… ran away?”

“No.”

“I’m scared for him.”

Luca knows that he should offer some words of reassurance. That’s what friends do. But he cannot speak past the hardening lump in his throat and he stares at the lights above him that Alberto once insisted were anchovies and can feel his chest pulse with an ache he cannot name.

Alberto was always the one to quiet the fear inside of him. Silenzio, Bruno, Luca thinks fiercely, and swallows when he realizes that voice sounds an awful lot like Alberto.

--

Luca smooths his hand over the poster to adhere it to the wall. His hand does not linger no matter how much he wants it to. Neither does his gaze. If he does either for too long, he will begin to cry.

“C’mon,” Luca tells Giulia when he can feel her worried stare boring into the side of his face. “We have more posters to hang up.”

“Hey,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He shrugs out from under her grip. “I’m fine.”

He knows that he is a terrible liar. He knows that Giulia can read him better than anyone. He waits for Giulia to call him out on it, unsure of what he will say in response.

She says nothing. She can, after all, read him better than anyone. So she hands him the next poster, and they get back to work.  

--

I’m gonna fix this. That was his promise to Alberto a year ago. He wants that to be his promise now. He wants to say it—wants to scream it—wants it to be true.

Luca doesn’t know if he can. He thinks of the clock at the bottom of the ocean and wonders if it is still counting the seconds. Luca is.

He makes it to noon before he cries.

--

Signor Marcovaldo starts to make Trenette al Pesto and stops halfway through. Luca watches from the dining room table as his parents and Giulia’s mother have a hushed conversation in the next room over. Signor Marcovaldo’s hand wavers as he reaches for the garlic cloves, then drops to his side.

“Perhaps we should… order something instead,” he says.

“Papa—”

He leaves. Giulia sighs. When she starts chopping the garlic, Luca busies himself by draining the pasta. He pretends he doesn’t see Giulia wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her striped shirt, and he decides to return her watery smile.

--

“Maybe he ran away,” the police say the next day. Early afternoon sun filters through the open windows, the salty ocean air tickling Luca’s nose.

“He didn’t,” Luca interrupts. He has spent most of his life not knowing things, but he knows this. Alberto didn’t run away.

“Sweetheart,” his mom begins, and Luca’s stomach rolls. He steps back when she reaches for him.

“He didn’t.”

“I know he’s your friend, kid,” one of the officers tells him, “but we found plans and maps at that island you said he used to spend his free time at.”

“That’s different,” Luca says, his throat tightening. “That was before. He wouldn’t run away! The life he has here is important to him. I know it.”

“Luca—”

“No! I know Alberto! He didn’t just run away.” Luca can feel his heartbeat pounding in against his ribs, like it wants to break free of his confines of his chest. As desperate to reach Alberto as the rest of him is. Luca’s eyes flit over the room to settle squarely on Signor Marcovaldo, who stands in the corner and stares at the floor.

“He wouldn’t abandon the people he loves,” Luca insists.

Signor Marcovaldo’s gaze rises and steadfastly meet’s Luca’s own. “And we won’t abandon him.”

--

“You’re going to collapse if you keep going like this,” Giulia tells him quietly the afternoon of the following day, in the middle of the town square. Luca can feel the rain against his scales and dripping off his fins.

“I’m fine.”

“Luca, you’re not yourself—”

“What do you want from me, Guilia?” Luca snaps. “I’m trying to find Alberto, and I don’t know where to look, and I don’t know who took him or why and I can’t sleep at night because I don’t know that he’s safe and I never got to tell him—”

Luca’s voice fails him when Guilia grabs him and pulls him into a hug. She doesn’t let go for a long time. And when she feels Luca’s shoulders jerk with an aborted sob, she just squeezes tighter.

--

Luca sleeps for a few hours the third night. He wakes up when the door opens and Signor Marcovaldo’s broad frame is silhouetted against the light form inside the house. He is wearing his hat and has a lamp in his hand. Luca slides down the ladder and calls out to him.

“Luca. You should be asleep.”

“Are you going to look for Alberto?”

There’s a beat, and Luca wonders if he’s going to lie to him. “Yes.”

“I want to come with you.”

“It is late—”

“Please, Signor.”

Luca looks up at him. He can sense, more than see, the way Signor Marcovaldo looks at him. Close and studying, as if trying to parcel something out. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, as he looks in the direction of the town, and then back.

“Alberto cares very much for you, Luca.”

Luca’s heart stutters a little. His lungs squeeze. “And I for him, sir.”

A heavy hand lands in his hair and ruffles it. “I know. Come. Walk with me.”

--

Luca had learned much in his year at school. He learned about stars, and spelling, and addition.

He did not learn how to deal with this.

He did not learn how to count the hours when the days bleed into sleepless nights and time itself starts to lose meaning. He did not learn how to stop counting the minutes, as if counting to sixty a million times will stave off the way his vision blurs on the edges if he stands in one place for too long.

Luca throws a tarp over the rusting Vespa and wishes that the hole in his heart could be covered as easily.

--

When Luca becomes too exhausted, he sleeps. When he sleeps, he dreams of Alberto.

The dreams are a patchwork quilt in memories. Alberto’s sun-warmed shoulder brushing against Luca’s, the teasing quirk of his eyebrow, the stretch of his spine when he planned to put himself firmly in the way of danger. Then the echo of take me, gravity as he disappears down the edge of a cliff to dive into the water below.

Luca follows, every time.

Alberto disappears.

Every.

Time.

--

Luca stares at the anchovies (stars, he knows, hot balls of gas lightyears away from here but Alberto is not here and Luca wants to hold on to the parts of Alberto that he can with both hands) when he hears the phone ring.

Signor Marcovaldo picks up on the first ring. Luca realizes he must have been waiting. He wonders how many nights he spent at the kitchen table, also unable to sleep. Luca glances at the still-open window to Giulia’s room, sees her light immediately click on, and wonders if maybe nobody in this house has slept since Alberto went missing.

Luca sits up when he hears Signor Marcovaldo knock on her door.

--

They have a lead. Signor Marcovaldo sits on the edge of Giulia’s bed. Looks at Luca through the window. Found some fabric that matched his shirt a few miles north.

Luca slides down the ladder to the ground so fast he feels his palms rubbed raw from the rope burn.

Luca tears the tarp off the Vespa and kicks it into gear. He hears his name being called from the house, the thundering of footsteps down the stairs after him.

“Wait!” Signor Marcovaldo calls to him, but all Luca has done for the past week is wait.

He feels a sudden weight on the back of the Vespa and sees Giulia yanking on a helmet.

“Go!” she shouts in his ear.

He turns the Vespa north and goes as fast as he can.

--

Luca races the moon. Portorosso gives way to a tree line, thick with the scent of dew and dirt. He thinks he can feel Giulia’s hands shaking around him, but he does not know if that is the thrum of the Vespa beneath them or if her anxiety is an echo of his own.

All he knows is that Alberto is north. So that’s where Luca wants to be.

--

“STOP!”

Luca sees it at the same time Giulia does and brings the Vespa to a lurching halt against the dirt trail they had been following. Giulia tightens her grip on Luca to keep them both from careening off the vehicle.

Luca blinks at the figure in the road, clearing the spray of dust from his eyes.

The moonlight filters weakly through the leaves of the canopy above them. Luca can barely see, but the headlight from the Vespa offers enough of a glow to make out the form that stands on the path. Just far enough away from the light to be a shadow in the darkness.

Luca tentatively climbs off the Vespa and takes a step forward. It has been over a year, but Luca has seen that same silhouette in his dreams every day for a week.

“Alberto?”

The answering voice is raspy and hoarse, but its familiarity thunders in Luca’s head. “L…Luca?”

And then Alberto collapses.

--

Luca does not reach him before he hits the ground but it’s a close thing. “Alberto!”

The bottom of Alberto’s tank top is torn, he cheeks gaunt. Parts of him are blue scales. The base of his skull has purple fins that fade up into his soft tower of curly hair. Almost like he had gone for a swim, and not fully dried off.

“He’s bleeding. And I think he has a fever,” Giulia says quietly, and only now does Luca realize that she is kneeling on the other side of him. Luca hears her voice as if he’s underwater. There’s something off about it, he knows, but he cannot place it.

“C’mon, Luca. We have to get him home.”

--

The trip home is quiet. They sandwich Alberto between them and Luca drives even faster on the way back.

Alberto’s weight and heat against him is a reminder of his presence—heavy and warm and here—but it’s not as comforting as Luca had thought it would be. He’s hurt. He’s sick.

I’m gonna fix this, Luca thinks, and guns it even faster as Portorosso comes into view again.

--

Luca does not know what he expects when he pulls up to the Marcovaldo’s home. He had not thought about it. Giulia is pulled aside by her mother, hushed and harsh words shading the concern from which they originate.

Signor Marcovaldo says nothing. He pulls Alberto up in his arm and disappears into the house. The churning in Luca’s gut spikes the moment Alberto disappears from his view, so Luca follows.

Giulia’s father takes Alberto back to his room, ducking into the small doorway. Luca lingers at the threshold and watches.

“Never do that again,” Signor Marcovaldo says as he lays Alberto down in his bed. It’s not until he turns to look at Luca in the doorway that Luca realizes he was speaking to him, not Alberto.

It is not a promise Luca can make. Not when he can see the rise and fall of Alberto’s chest for his own eyes.

“I had to, sir.” Luca takes a step into the room. “Is… Alberto going to be okay?”

Signor Marcovaldo turns to him, then sighs. He wordlessly places his hand on top of Luca’s head as he passes by.

“I need to make some phone calls,” he says in lieu of an answer. “Watch him for me, Luca.”

--

In the hours that follow, Luca does not leave the room.

Giulia’s mother comes in and lectures him about running off. Giulia tries to come to his defense—“we found Alberto, Mamma! Can’t you just leave him alone?”—but Luca shakes his head and apologizes, even though he is not sorry.

Signor Marcovaldo has a doctor attend to Alberto. Infected, the doctor says. But treatable. I believe he will make a full recovery.

Luca pretends he does not hear the relieved tremble to Signor Marcovaldo’s breath in response.

--

Luca is alone with Alberto and the sun is just barely peeking over the ocean’s horizon line when Alberto wakes up.

Alberto’s hand twitches in Luca’s. His green eyes crack open, and Luca leaps to his feet.

“Luca?” His name falling from Alberto’s mouth—dry and raspy as it sounds in this moment—is nearly enough to make Luca’s knees give out from under him.

“Sì, sì, sì.” Luca fumbles for the glass of water and straw on the table beside the bed. “Here.”

Alberto does not look away from Luca’s face as he drinks the water. Luca knows this because he, also, cannot bring himself to look away. As Luca pulls the cup away and turns to call for Signor Marcovaldo, Alberto’s grip on his hand tightens.

“Wait,” Alberto says.

In this moment, Luca does not believe himself capable of denying Alberto much of anything. So he stops, and turns back.

“You’re really here?”

Alberto has never sounded so small. When he touches Luca’s cheek, Luca goes very still.

“Sì,” Luca whispers.  

He watches as Alberto’s green eyes flood with tears, and then hears the creak of the floorboards behind him. When Luca glances over his shoulder, he sees Giulia’s father in the doorway.

“Alberto,” Signor Marcovaldo says, and Alberto breaks.

--

Luca has to leave the room when the police come to get Alberto’s statement, but he hears whispers of it amongst the adults late at night when he is supposed to be asleep.

Word of sea monsters is spreading, Giulia’s mother says. You said Alberto said they were talking of research? I do wonder if it may have been more about experimentation—

Signor Marcovaldo’s rumble interrupts her. He escaped, Giana, and they raided the warehouse. They are not a threat any longer. That, and Alberto’s forgiveness, is all I care about.

Massimo, it’s not your fault—

It is, came the firm disagreement. Dio mi perdoni, but it is.

--

Two days later, Alberto sits in the hideout beside Luca and watches the sunlight filter through the leaves above them.

The quiet between them is filled with the sounds of Portorosso around them: children playing soccer in the town square, fishermen calling to one another on passing boats, seagulls squaking as they pass by overhead. Giulia was working on selling what remained of the family’s stock of fish, so her idle chatter is nowhere to be heard. Luca closes his eyes and listens mostly to Alberto drumming his fingers against his own stomach.

Alberto had been quiet in the days since waking up. Luca didn’t press him on it. The sound of the breath passing through his lungs and his footsteps when he walked was enough for Luca.

“Hey,” Alberto says suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I never thanked you for coming to find me. That night, in the woods?”

Luca frowns and looks over at him. Alberto is still staring at the sky. “You don’t have to thank me. Of course I’d come for you.”

“Yeah, I just…” Alberto trails off, then sits up suddenly. Startled, Luca sits up too. Alberto turns to look at him, his green eyes intense. “I… I feel like I knew that. When I was… there. I can’t explain why, I just… I just knew.” He grabs Luca’s face in both of his hands.

Luca swears his heartbeat stops all together, then starts thundering in his chest. “Alberto—"

“I…” Alberto swallows. His eyes search Luca’s face like he might vanish if he so much as blinks. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. I fought my way out for you, but even then, I… I wasn’t… I couldn’t be sure, but I kept thinking—”

“Silenzio, Bruno?” Luca supplies, and turns to kiss Alberto’s palm against his face.

Alberto’s answering laugh is watery and thin as he presses his forehead against Luca’s. It is the most beautiful thing Luca has ever heard in his life.

[haifengg]

Errands - Nanami Kento

Pairing: NanamixGN!Reader

Genre: Fluff // general summer or spring feelings // Is fashion a genre?

Summary: First dating Nanami and getting to know him better. On a bigger side note also about his clothes.

Word Count: about 1.6 k

One of the things that drew you to Nanami since the very first day of working together, was the way he dressed. Not just because he was one of the very few people at the school who didn’t wear all black uniforms but because he chose seemingly the same outfit every day. Which appeared odd to you. You wondered how his wardrobe would look like and if he really owned the same set of clothes a bunch of times to rotate them on a daily basis.

Then you started observing him a little closer and not only did you mentioned his  subtle perfume but also did it come to your attention that in fact he wasn’t wearing the same clothes every day. The colours variated only in nuances and the fabric too wasn’t the same. Some shirts of his were a simple cotton blend but others were made out of a more pattern woven fabric. A lot if his shirts were in fact blue. But they tend to have all sorts of different undertones.  A lot of them dipping into a grey palette. 

His suits also differed and after a few weeks of subtly stalking his clothes you arrived at the conclusion that he probably owned three to four different suits. Maybe some darker ones as well since housed to be a regular salary man. The beige-ness of them wasn’t all the same either. Because his shirts - even though one doesn’t see it at first -  were in fact very different in warmth of the color and texture of the fabric, he had ad least two beige coloured suits. Which he always managed to match perfectly to the dress shirts. 

Nanami surely had a favourite tie. Which he wore a lot and how you later found out: Owns three of. But he had a few other choices as well which he only chose when he was tied down to his desk with paperwork and wasn’t going into the field. Just as if the yellow tie with the golden touch was his battle tie. The one that boosted his confidence. Maybe even kind of his trade mark.

After taking note of all these different things you figure that he probably had to be a man of minutest detail. Not choosing too brightly coloured shirts because different shades of blue would complemented his hair better. 

And you wonder if other people paid that much attention to him as well or if it was just you.

After that thought formed in your head you realised how much you were thinking about Nanami Kento over the past few weeks and that you had - according to your data and previous crushes you had on other people - fallen for him.

Luckily Nanami was paying just as much attention to you than you were paying to him. He simply was way more discreet about it. But when he eventually was certain that asking you out was worth the trouble and pondered the emotional dividend - he did it. He asked you out. Very bluntly, very straightforward and your heart dropped to your knees. Because you secretly hoped that all your rapture would never have to be acted on.

[…]

Seeing him out of work not only made you realise how sweet of a man he is behind all those glasses, holsters, fighting and stern face, but also gave you more inside about his choice of clothes. During summery after noon dates he tend to show up in light linen shirts and slacks, a different pair of glasses than the one he wore to work. You would have never taken him for a jute bag kind of guy but he carried one of these pretty often.

When you asked him about it he only smiled softly and offered to show you. Then you got into a subway, holding on to the same pole. His arm holding on to it over your shoulder, giving you a feeling of being protected. And basically forced you to stare into his chest. As you exited the train after a rather long ride at a station you’ve never been to before, he put his hand into the smallest of your back, guiding you towards the exit and standing closely behind you on the escalator. Unwillingly your heart skipped a beat because it was the first time he physically touched you. 

Stepping out of the station you looked around, shielding your eyes from the sun using your hand. Yet there was nothing to see. Where ever he brought you seemed to be just a typical area were people lived. Went to work in the morning and returned to in the evening. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asked, looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You deny his question and say that you’re just really confused why he wanted to show you a a suburban area of the city you both lived in.

“You wanted to know what the bag is for. I’ll show you.” He walked a few steps, then turned around when he noticed you weren’t following him. “Come on!”

So you went. And followed him. Like a shadow, once again, slowly observing his moves and actions, how he talked to the people. How he wasn’t the nicest or most polite person at work talking to his coworkers but smiled at the owner of the book shop were he went to pick up an order. You saw his eyes wrinkle as he laughed at a joke and how his eyes light up when they talked about the development of the area for about a minute.

He put the book and the paper in his jute bag.

Then he went on to the dry cleaners, pulled out a coupon from his wallet and picked up two of shirts of his. Once again he took the time to chat with the owner. The elderly lady seemed delighted to see him and they talked just as if they have known each other for a long time. One time she looked past Nanami’s tall frame to catch a glimpse at you and asked who you might be. But he cunningly smiled and replied: “I will tell you some other time.” And winked at her and the lady giggled like a young girl. You wouldn’t trust your eyes. Nanami Kento, the grumpy guy from work was flirting with the owner from the dry cleaners. Who was this man. 

By the time you got to the market, the sun had long since started to set and cast long shadows over the busy vendors. 

“Would you hold this for me?” Nanami asked and handed you the shirts wrapped in plastic foil. During the past one and a half hour you barely said a word to each other. But now he asked you all kinds of questions, while also chatting with the vendors and filling the jute bag on his shoulders with fruit, vegetables and all kinds of other groceries.

“Do you like fish? Or do you prefer vegetables?”

“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“How about anchovies?”

“Oh look, they got tomatoes, don’t they look just great?”

He bought bread from a small bakery at the corner of the market, strawberries from another lady in wellies and a hooverette. When she saw you following him at every turn like a little duckling, a big smile grew on her face, making her eyes disappear in a bunch of wrinkles and she gave him some extra fruits for you to try. 

[…]

“So why were you carrying that bag exactly? To run errands?” You ask him, leaning back and eyeing him from across the small table in his kitchen. He twirled the stem of the wine glass between his fingers and scoffed.

“No, honestly I wanted to take you running errands with me for while so I always took the bag in case I would manage getting you to accompany me. But the opportunity just never presented.”

The honesty of his words surprised you and caused you to raise an eyebrow. “Why did you want to run errands with me?”

“Because I am a different guy with the people of my community. Of course I could have told you but how classy is that really? Showing you would be much more impressive.”

You hold up your glass to watch the light refracting in the most different shades of red. “That’s a fair point. Laos I probably wouldn’t have believed you.” His laughter chimed through the kitchen and out the open window, where the wind got hold of it and carried it away. 

“You know, people tend to mistake me for someone sort of person that I am not for most of the time.” You nod and he resumed impishly like a little boy: “On another hand I wanted to show you were I live.”

“You wanted to lure me into your place?”

“Yes.” Nanami admits and laughs. He leaned back and thrummed on the table using his thumb. After you had finished the shared dinner he prepared for you after coming home he had  crossed his legs and pushed up the glasses to rest on his hair.

“What for?”

You take your eyes off the shimmering wine in your glass to search for an answer in his eyes. The flashing blue eyes, so wonderfully complemented by the shirt he chose to wear today. Narrow light blue stripes. To your surprise there was nothing to search for. Because Nanami was already spelling it out for you.

“To let you know how much I like you.”

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Cleolei's Profile

Fusion: Cleo de Nile and Toralei Stripe

Parents: I inherited my royal blood from the Mummy, but it is being defiled by the not-so-pure breeding of the Werecat.

Age: Cleo is ancient at 5,842 (give or take), so, to her, I must seem like a mere werekitty at 15.

Killer Fused Style: One of us purrfers to show her stripes au naturale, not covered by vintage wraps. If you get what I'm meowing.

Freaky Fused Flaw: I am a monster who is afraid of the dark, but one benefit of being with Toralei is I now have fangtastic night vision!

Favorite Activity: I love a purrfect nap, but I haven't slept a wink since I've had Cleo's daydreams about Deuce in my head. I'd rather have a furball than all this lovey-lovey-ness.

Biggest Pet Peeve: When someone refuses to obey me, like when a certain cat with killer curiosity touches things she shouldn't. In science labs where there are time teleporter and weird vortexes. Just as an example.

Favorite Food: Anchovies. Fed to me one at a time the way her royalness likes her grapes. I think she's onto something there.