#IDK whats wring with me :)

[paradoxspaceheater]

most terrified man in the court trying and failing to look normal

[a-treatise-on-velociraptors]

What's the SCA etiquitte on having a persona/medieval name? Is it something that would harsh the vibe if I didn't do it?

[bipolbur]

the best part of my day is when my coworker asks if im doing okay bc im obviously mentally ill and i very defensively go "yes" and make it obvious to everyone in the area that i am not doing okay

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[queenofbaws]

if i had a nickel for every supermassive character named chris h known for making corny jokes, having questionable social skills, and possessing the innate ability to completely ruin a monster hunter's night without even trying, i'd have two nickels

and that isn't a lot, but it does make writing scenes where both of them are in the same room pretty complicated

[hassianlovebot]

it's actually so weird that people are treating palia like a fully released game,,, like obviously there are complaints about bugs and stuff but i saw someone complain about there being no real endgame and it's like,, yeah.. because it's still in beta... they haven't added it yet... hello?

[alteredphoenix]

Something I've noticed, but: yuri manga don't last very long, do they?

[fairenoughman]

Obsessed w stretching these days. Cant get enough of it. Feels so good

[poppy-ghost]

sorry for bitches want my curry it was an exhausting weekend and I woke up from a 30 min post coitus nap calling everything cunt and bitch and fucker. still it's 4 hours later and I'm ready to throw stuff

[administer-distractions]

.

[29121996]

.

[1random-starfish]

“Shoot me like a lame horse”

“put me down like a rabid dog”

I need more of these I swear they’re my favorite thing ever. All I can think of is “flush me down the toilet like a dead goldfish” but that one doesn’t fit the vibe and also the fish is already dead so who even cares.

[fangedsatyr]

i wake up and i immediately think abt how awful i am and how much i want to drive off a road and get into a fatal car accident

[hairydykecunt]

i cant fet myself to do anything

[heaven4lostgirls]

Hi!! Could you write poly!moonchaser with adhd!reader where she is rambling about something and the boys are loving listening to her and watching her get excited? And maybe she pauses and thinks she’s talking too much and the boys reassure her they love it? Idk if that’s too specific lol. Thanks!!!

pairing: poly!moonchaser x adhd!reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.1K

content warnings: angst (its more fluffy but the angst is there), obvious mentions of adhd, neurodivergence and feeling excluded

author's note: thank you for requesting! i had so much fun writing this, i hope you like it! peep the background regulus x evan x barty. i also dont have personal experience with adhd but i tried to keep this as informed as possible, this is what i know from my psychology classes, if something is incorrect or offensive please let me know x

You open the door to the boys room to their fond expressions before you start talking, barely pausing for a breath as you state, “Pandora told me that Evan told her that he didn’t actually like Barty in the beginning because he thought they were just friends- which, what?- so Evan didn’t respond to Barty’s owl so when they got back last semester, Barty started ignoring Evan so Pandora and Regulus came up with a plan to lock them in their dorm room-”

The boys watch you in varying stages of affection but the more you talk, the more your jaw starts to ache and the more you grow aware of how heavy your bag feels on your shoulder and the fact that you’re tired of standing.

You’d come straight from class to tell the boys about your day, wanting to share the news with them as soon as you could.

You’re aware of the fact that you tend to get a bit carried away, talking quite fast that it’s actually more so a rant while your brain feels like its playing catch up with your mouth.

Remus looks slightly concerned whereas James looks completely enamoured. James dopily smiling as you rush through your speech without pause as Remus’ gaze is locked on your heaving chest and your hand clenching your bag, so it doesn’t slip off of your shoulder.

“Breathe Dovie,” Remus says softly but you hear it, nonetheless, automatically attuned to his voice that it shocks you out of your rant, pausing unceremoniously as your face starts to heat in embarrassment.

You hesitate, noticing the notes scattered in front of Remus at his desk and how James is halfway dressed in his Quidditch Uniform.

A frown finds its way to your face, “I’m rambling.” You murmur with a slight wince; Remus offers you a comforting smile as James nods with a grin.

“You were saying?” James prompts as he situates himself on his bed, tugging on his socks as Remus tidies up his desk with an interested hum, keeping his body slightly turned towards you to convey his attention.

You bite your lip guiltily, “It was nothing, just something Pandora and I talked about today.” You say softly, wringing your hands together anxiously as you shuffle self-consciously on your feet.

Remus tsks from the right of you as James coos from your left, “Don’t do that.” James gently admonishes when you look up to meet his gaze.

You shrug in a helpless gesture before Remus starts to speak, “We were listening to you love” Remus tries to gently coax you back out of your shell.

You feel the excitement in your body start to fester into something more akin to anxiety, “I was kind of rambling,” you admit with a shy look.

“Sure,” James says easily and your heart twinges, “But there’s nothing wrong with that, we like hearing you talk about things you’re interested in” James states, comforting you so simply with a couple of words that you feel your previous excitement returning.

“Do you get upset at Jamie when he rambles about Quidditch when you know you don’t understand?” Remus says with a raised brow; you shrink into yourself meekly as you shake your head negatively.

Remus nods in approval, “Exactly, because you like seeing him happy because it makes you happy.” He says and a small smile starts to bloom on to your face.

“Do you get annoyed at Remus when he rambles about his novels when you know they’re not your favourite genre?” James prompts this time and with more confidence, you also shake your head no.

James smiles approvingly and you get the gist of the mini intervention.

You know they don’t mean to make you feel like you’re annoying them when you speak, that for the most part you’ve put pressure on yourself to mask most of the symptoms of your ADHD, but it hurts all the same after years of knowing that your brain functioned differently from other people.

“Alright?” James asks, watching you with a soft and fond expression on his face as you nod with a big smile.

“Good.” You affirm and the three of you share a smile before Remus clears his throat.

“You wanna continue your story angel?” he asks kindly, offering you an out if you wanted to take it.

You smile before nodding, watching James hesitantly, “Won’t you be late for practice?” you ask guiltily, worried about taking James away from his captain duties.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “I already told Sirius I’d be a bit late because I knew your class ended around the same time and I wanted to catch up with you.” He says.

Your heart flutters, you move from your position by the entrance of the dorm to take a seat next to James on his bed as the two of you face Remus.

You pat the spot next to you in offering before he shakes his head, “If I join you both, James won’t leave for practice and I won’t finish this essay” he says seriously and in tandem, you and James are pouting in sync.

Remus shakes his head with a tut, “Those won’t fool me, I know how you two get.” He admonishes you both fondly, exasperation tinging his tone.

Your frowns remain as Remus sighs dramatically, remaining unmoving from his chair as he gestures with his hands for you to continue talking.

“Well,” you start again, excitement returning as you begin to recall the details, “So Reg and Dora locked them both in the dorm because they thought if they stayed in their long enough that they’d give in and talk to each other. So, after like 3 hours, they come back to the dorm and Barty and Evan are like,” you pause to whisper as if it’s a dirty secret, “Naked in Barty’s bed together.” You laugh softly after saying that.

James and Remus’ eyes widen, “Crouch and Rosier?” Remus asks curiously, contemplating softly with a frown and you nod excitedly before James hums confusedly to your side.

You look at him in question, “I dunno, I saw Reg and Barty making out in the showers after the Slytherin vs Gryffindor match last semester” James says with a confused puppy expression as you and Remus gape at him.

“What?” he asks defensively before you squawk indignantly, hitting his chest. “And you didn’t tell us?” you screech, pushing at him playfully as he tries to protect himself with his hands.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you!” he shrieks as you hit a bit too close to his upper thigh, “I just thought they were like…celebrating.” He finishes lamely as you and Remus snort at his excuse.

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice