#he still has wonderful eyelashes tho

[vermwerm]

taking notes from femtanyl

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

Part 2

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[rel124c41]

BACK TO CHEST (SOUL TO SOUL). jade leech

Saprophytic organisms obtain their nutrients by breaking down dead organic matter.

tags: main character death (permanently tho?), dark magic, family dynamics, survivor guilt, established relationship, malleus’s unrequited crush on reader, & happy halloween

a/n: jade & floyd's mother's name siphon from @mochinomnoms

word count: 12, 802

When Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley, overblotted, you were beheaded. 

Jade has been rolling that sentence in his head for the entire month. He has been trying to make sense of it. Like a student retyping a sentence, he changes it up every so often; when housewarden Malleus Draconia overblotted, you were beheaded; when Malleus Draconia, born January 18th, 202 centimeters tall, green eyes, a hundred or so years old, overblotted, you were beheaded; when Malleus Draconia, nicknamed Tsunotaro, overblotted, you were beheaded; when Malleus Draconia overblotted, Jade had to watch you be beheaded from Diasoma’s dormitory barbican. The facts do not seem real no matter how much he edits them.

Part of him deducts that it might be because beheaded is the wrong word. Beheaded implies decapitation: the head fully cut off from the body. You did not resemble a cleanly-made dullahan. The slashing, void magic Malleus Draconia sent out cut from your frontal bone diagonally down to your occipital bone. 

Jade hopes more fiercely than a child wishing on a star that it felt like a painful flick to your forehead than nothing else. He does not want to entertain the thought you might have been conscious, wondering when your hair caught fire as you suffered through incomprehensible pain. Visible brain matter stuttering with a few painful last thoughts as you were cut apart.

So, with that said, it has not really registered in Jade Leech’s own brain that you are really dead. He can find the words perfectly fine. He cannot find the meaning of that mysterious poetry, no matter how embellished or how nudely plain.

Which is why his brother has to say certain words to him real slowly. Make sure the meaning sticks. Elongating them, sometimes repeating, “Today’s (Name)’s funeral, Jade. You have to get up.” Which comes out as fuuuh-neeer-al, yooo-u, and uuuh-puh. 

Floyd has to repeat ‘get up’ four times because Jade refuses to. As he has been for the last month, he rots in bed. Luckily, Jade has always been an exemplary student so he will still be able to graduate his second year with all his high marks. Thank the Seven for small miracles.

“Cooome on, Jade. Jade, please, get up. Jadeee.”

Roughly, and then softly and sorrily, Floyd tries to shake Jade out of his pretend sleep. His brother has been doing that a lot – sleeping and then, not sleeping, but still laying in bed with his eyes closed. Who knows what is so alluring about the ebon made from flesh-shuttered windows. A week ago, Floyd had a thought that turned his stomach rotten. What if Jade has been sleeping so much so he can pretend he is still under Sea Slug’s spell, before anything happened?

He does not like to think about it. To be frank, he has been hating thinking this entire month. It makes bile poke its tiny fingers on the muscles in his throat, watching his mirror reflection lie somnolent in bed, looking halfway dead. Which is why Floyd shifts back to shaking Jade at a harsher pace – which he will eventually slow down again, feeling regret for being rough. 

“Jaaadiooo, waaake uuup. Jade. Jade Jade Jade!” 

Floyd wonders if he has to get Azul to assist him in picking up Jade. It is not that Jade puts up a struggle when getting dragged out of bed; it is just that his weight feels like dead weight and that makes Floyd queasy. He likes having Azul there. Azul dresses Jade; Floyd brushes Jade’s teeth. They both take turns taking cups of water and rinsing shampoo out of his hair.

However, Azul is not needed because Jade voluntarily opens his eyes a moment later. Dull, rusted gold and olive peers through black eyelashes. Lifeless eyes flicker, registering what the waking world is showing him.

Shoes that are worth a king's ransom crease because Floyd decides to crouch rather than kneel by Jade’s bed. His hair is neatly slicked back, gel fixating his black strand behind his piercing. Dressed in a simple black suit, Floyd gives a shy smile and whispers, “Hey.” Jade notices something that makes him close his eyes.

Floyd did his tie correctly this time.

“Hey, no goin’ back to sleep. Ya gotta get up today, Jade, c’mon. I’ll eat one of your mushrooms if ya get up. You can decide which one, whatever works for me. Hehehe, how does that sound? … Jade, please. Get up.”

“What’s the point?”

“Because you’re gonna be pissed at yourself if ya don’t. Ya gonna hate yourself more if you don’t get up.”

“Not possible.” Jade’s nose wrinkles when Floyd starts to run his fingers through his hair, combing back black hair.

“You have to get up today. If you do, next week, Azul and I’ll leave ya alone.”

“Leave me alone now.”

“Ya have to get up to say goodbye. Come on, (Name) deserves you there. You have to get up for (Name).”

Jade does the only thing that allows Floyd to know his brother is not a corpse - he sheds a tear. Dried-up, pruning corpses cannot shed tears. It comes with a double edged sword of relief and pain; Floyd watches the tear escape from Jade’s left eye, descending down over the bridge of his nose, and onto his pillow. 

Emptied of one of a thousand tears, Jade whispers back, tormented, “I can’t.”

In your absence, Floyd’s verbose brother has turned into a man of little words. As if the action of talking is just as strenuous as getting up. It is unnerving for Floyd who is so used to his brother talking so much. 

Grief shackles a body like an anchor. So used to swimming through life with dexterity, grief has tangled itself upon Jade like cutting, tangling fishing gear or stabbing, soda-can-holding plastic. Each limb is ten times heavier than it has ever been. His tongue is an iron paperweight.

And, Floyd knows. That weight has been crushing him too.

Floyd still looks towards your designated seat in Mostro Lounge by mistake. Waits with a heavy heart to see you sitting there, ordering one of their chocolate-or-caramel themed drinks. Waits for your voice to just suddenly be in his ears talking, asking about basketball practice or new menu items.

But, he has been brave for his brother’s sake. Which is why he requests, touching their foreheads together, “Then, get up for me. Get up for me.”

For the first time in the month, Jade brushes his teeth without help. He cannot manage to do his hair but Floyd gives no complaints, slicking his own hands up with opaque green gel.

Only one month after death, a body fully liquifies. Life deflating, the soft tissue starts to decay. Oval holes in the skin appear with the ease of stretched dough. Flesh’s solidity fails and melts like candle wax. In a month’s time, a cadaver is expected to expose its vulnerable skeleton. 

Against all physical laws, you have not rotted away like an apple attacked by fungi and bacteria. In fact, it would be appropriate to say you look alive. It is inappropriate though because of the downward, diagonal scar across your forehead. Magic keeps your body fresh but your grave-ushering wound remains.

They stitched you back up? Jade wonders which friend of yours had picked the top part of your cranium off the rain-soaked ground. 

Even though Ace and Deuce were the closest to you – both physically, you had thrown them out of the way of that slashing attack and emotionally, you had thrown them out of the way of that slashing attack –he cannot picture them picking it up. Neither Grim; paws are too small. Perhaps, aspiring not-yet-doctor Riddle Rosehearts had the guts in his tiny stature to scoop up the top half of your brain. Holding a hand under like one does with a napkin full of broken eggs, making sure nothing drips onto the floor. Jade grows too sick to think of the hypothetical of who stitches you back up. 

Jade only remembers shaking, cold due to the rain and the sight. A hand reaching up to his breast pocket to grab his magic pen. Then, Floyd grabbing his shoulders to stop him from making the awful mistake of firing a spell at THE Malleus Draconia. Jade forgets the rest.

Apparently, he screamed himself hoarse. Apparently, Floyd got a broken wrist from their tussle. Apparently, Azul knocked him out with a powerful sedative spell. Apparently apparently apparently. 

The following memory goes like this: waking up in bed the next morning, throat sore, thinking about what tea you might generously brew for him to fight off his evident illness. Usually in good health, Jade is a bit surprised that morning to wake up with a flu. Then, his world is torn apart. Then, Azul and Floyd explain to him slowly – they are always talking to him slowly now – why his throat burns. Not from bacteria-made illness, from screaming, from losing you.

Sometimes, just for a span of a few moments, Jade wishes another thing with childish ferocity — prays to a shooting star. 

He wishes he could have stayed in that peaceful dream — “There is no need to shed tears nor are farewells necessary! … A new world in which none shall ever experience the pain of loss!” he had said — that Malleus was bestowing upon them. I wish Malleus had succeeded in his overblot. With a similar vehemence, he wishes Malleus Draconia died. 

There is no graveyard on the northside of Sage’s Island. No one expects to bury a student. So, someone, perhaps Dire Crowley or your trio, has chosen to bury you just a bit off the hiking trails you and Jade use to venture on. A glade chosen by someone to put a coffin smack in the middle of, still on land owned by Night Raven College.

Your dead body rests ahead, laid in a virgin’s coffin. A tree line formed by an expanding corpse of trees marks a clean circle. Him, Floyd, and Azul come upon the funeral last. Right at the start of the column and rows of seats, Jade’s feet suddenly grow roots into the ground, on par with a neem tree which has the strongest taproot system. He is paralyzed by the sight: you, arms resting on your abdomen, laying in a fairytale’s glass coffin.

The casket is elegant beyond elegance. Silica sand dug from Al-Asim’s numerous deposits was smelted for the glass. Inscribed with gold, your name playfully stretches its arms across the coffin, bordering angels and swans kneeling before it. 

Your head rests on a pillow-bouquet. Speckles of white daisy, ivory white carnations, and eggshell white spider mums kiss your hair. The centerpiece flower is Easter lilies, though. Trumpet-shaped, with shooting stars of pollen branching out from the center of them, Easter lilies crowd the bouquet like purple prose in a literary work. They crowd around your resting, stitched head with delicateness. Another bouquet of identical pattern rests too in your hands.  

The fairytale ensemble makes you look like a martyr. 

You are not a martyr. Jade hates the very thought that that could become your legacy. Wrongly transcribed and reprinted, a publisher who does not know you writes you as martyr. It makes his stomach rot. Neither hero or villain, you are not to be idolized. Bread should not be broken in honor of you and wine should not be drunk in honor of you.

You were wonderfully simple, with flaws and strengths. Now, you are gone. 

“Jade, come. There is a spot up at the front for us,” Azul says softly and slowly. 

A gentle hand pushes on Jade’s back — Floyd’s hand. “They’re not goin’ to start without us.”

That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried that —! Jade, not really thinking well, rips himself away from his brother too fast. 

“Woah,” Floyd shouts like a cowboy whose horse has started acting erratic. His gold and olive-brown eyes flicker with concern. Once more, Floyd goes to put his hand on the back of Jade’s suit, only to feel more like he is touching stone rather than flesh. Hm?

Out of Floyd’s knowledge, students, close friends of yours, have started to turn around, and one of them happens to be Malleus Draconia — who makes direct eye contact with Jade Leech.

I can’t breathe. 

Eyes that shimmer like Sheecle’s green take their poisonous green hands, stealing oxygen from the eel-mer’s body.

Jade finds himself breathless. In his chest, his heart grows in weight tremendously. All of the hurt in his bones is pulled towards his center, acceleration like fire. Heavy as osmium. Heavy as tungsten. He feels like something is crushing him with a sleep paralysis-esque weight. Out of his nose, his last breath slithers away; out of his brain, all his thoughts file out of the building in fire-drill-fashion. Buh-bye, Jade! his thoughts wave as they go. His breath walks out like a scorned lover, never to be heard from again.

I can’t breathe. 

Suddenly, Jade’s motionless chest is grabbed by a wayward arm. His spine collides into a breathing, functioning chest. Over his shoulder, Floyd whispers to his brother, lazy drawl slithering in Jade’s ear:

“Follow along to my breathin’ pattern. Try-a match your breath to mine.”

The words are spoken carelessly, with a lazy drawl, but the intent is vigilant. Seeing his brother needing help, Floyd reacts. He holds him close enough to feel the bones of his ribcage. 

On Jade’s back, he can feel the rise and fall of Floyd’s chest — Floyd elongating his breaths to gather deep oxygen in the very bottom of his lungs. They come in slow, constant waves. An inhale causes his chest to expand. An exhale causes his chest to flatten. Each slow rotation hits Jade’s spine in measured breaths — that I’m supposed to follow along to. Match the tempo of. 

Jade closes his eyes so he can focus upon the rise and fall of Floyd’s living lungs. It proves difficult to hear the sound of breathing over the ringing in his ears, like detecting a single scent in a saturated perfume store. Earth makes itself into a curlicue of sensations. Amongst the raging riptide, Jade tries to grab his brother’s hand. Grab onto it and share the same breath. 

It takes a few moments, a continuous rise and fall. Deeper lungfuls of oxygen push at his spine; heavier exhales stir through his three-piece earring. In. Out. Jade is trying. In. Out. In. Out. 

He breathes in through his nose and out his mouth until he can complete the cycle of in and out with a skip between the steps. When he takes his first complete breath, eyelids fluttering open, he sees only the back of Malleus’s haircut and curling horns that hook up like antlers. As he studies ebony locks cascading into layers, Floyd whispers in his ear, “We don’t gotta go up. I’ll stay back with ya.”

A coward down to the bone, Jade nods his head. Well, not always a coward; he is quite a capable eel-mer. In this particular setting, he finds himself to be as cowardly as the lion in The Wizard of Oz. For this month, he has felt that only the worst traits of his personality have survived the aftermath of a torrential blot-storm. 

He lets Floyd push him down to sit at the last row on the right. Your friends in Savanaclaw and Pomefiore are in the back rows as you are not too close to either. Diasomnia and Heartslabyul are gathered close to the front. The remaining dorms are in the middle. 

Ebony locks styled into a jellyfish cut sit in the second row, left side. If Jade looks straight, he can completely dispel Malleus Draconia from his eyesight. Azul moves up to the front, perhaps to tell Dire Crowley or your friends that everyone in attendance, time to start. Jade is beyond grateful for the hand rubbing circles into his spine, as if the touch keeps his breath circulation working.

There are a few moments of talking. Deuce Spade shuffles a bit closer to hear what Dire Crowley is saying; Azul gestures with his hands and when passed a paper, passes it back in rejection; Grim, who now attends in Heartslabyul, starts to grow louder in volume but so far Jade cannot catch a word. Eventually, it is Riddle Rosehearts who stands up. In his hand, the paper that Azul recently rejected.

Even though it is given an introduction, explaining the contents, Jade would have known it without prelude. Off Riddle’s tongue, your poetry falls like a meteor shower, silver fish-tails stretching with warm tenor. The title and author already given, Riddle reads:

“In a sea of nightmares, I spy a rock

Smooth, with a thousand freckles of fresh rain

The maelstrom brings inky monsters and villains

When I place myself upon your shore, I stop drowning

Across the water, you and I are on a rock, braving the storm.”

You wrote a lot of poetry. You were never good friends with Rook Hunt though; you clashed a lot with Pomefoire, unable to make friends with them. Perhaps because your poetry and beauty is different. Not very often did you string words together amorously, rather the words were desolate. 

Your persona – the cultivated, embellished image of the artist you were – was always sort of tortured and damaged. That worst of you created poetry with the rigorousness of an inventory. This one Jade knows well – you wrote it for him. You were embarrassed about it but brave enough to tell him: “I wrote something. I feel … I feel it describes us.” 

He misses those nocturnally active times in the botanical gardens. Transcendent music playing between the spaces of silence, filling you with his feelings, sharing feelings like they were heat and you too were cold-blooded. Under a gazebo of stars on the edge of the universe, you once said. A pocket of paradise stolen was found in the moments creating and cultivating with him, you once said. It feels like a dream, you once said.

Jade stands up from his seat, not able to withstand hearing another word. This gross, wrong interpretation of your work feels like dirt and maggots grinding his mouth. It is not a poem meant for a funeral. Between Floyd’s knees and a chair, he squeezes himself tight to escape. 

Bystanders expect him to do just that: escape. Floyd anticipates it too. He takes those expectations and breaks them. In a domino effect, row by row, people notice Jade drawing closer. Murmurs start to rouse awake the sleepy, forlorn crowd. 

Undeterred, Jade walks closer and closer. When he briefly passes the second row, he lets his gaze flicker over to his left. Eyes pinched together in small slices, gold and brown irises catch just the briefest glimpse of rotating horns and a sharp nose. The curious quirk of Malleus’s lip has his heart electric with lightning bolts of hate. 

Across the water, across the wave, Jade approaches you on that lone rock. He is going to save you from the grave and help you weather this maelstrom. The divide between you and him in life and death is a thin, easily breakable glass barrier. 

“Jade,” Riddle questions.

Back to him, Jade responds, “You should sit, Riddle. Your words were very courteous but I have a few of my own to say. Can I ask you to forgive my gross impoliteness?”

“No,” Riddle fumbles with his words, “no, no it is quite alright. Go ahead … I’m - I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Your sympathy is much appreciated.”

The crowd watches on with gross intrigue, wondering what your boyfriend could possibly be thinking of or what his next move might be. Is it not obvious from your poetry – he is going to outstretch his shore towards you. He does this through violent action. 

Jade brings up a fist. Jade brings down a fist. 

Though it does not give easily, the glass still breaks in fractures. Triangles and rhombuses branch out from underneath Jade’s fist. Jagged, uneven connect-the-dots shapes make up a circular pattern that splinters from the point of contact. A little less than ten pieces fall into the tomb, landing on your ebony dress and bouquet. 

Steeling himself, Jade turns his attention to your face. Gloss from the glass makes you look angelic, like a shimmer of makeup glitter. Someone has painted your lips in a dark, blood red – (“I can’t stand bright lipstick! It makes you look like a clown. Jade, you’ll catch me dead before you catch me in dark lipstick”) – which boils up Jade’s month long, hidden away anger. 

His second punch causes glass to land on your dress like snow knocked off a branch, heavy with volume. The plummeting glass is also followed by a trickle of blood. Jade pulls back his bleeding hand, hooks it underneath a section of glass, and pulls it up like one might do with rotten floorboards. Glass pierces through the material of his glove, hitting bone. He grabs another part of the coffin, snaps it off like it is a mere graham cracker, and forms a fist with shrapnel of glass embedded in fingers. Fragile glass hovering over your face breaks and showers down like freckles. Steadily, he keeps punching and breaking off glass until none remains.

When he pulls back his right hand, the leather is thoroughly drenched in a red flood. Instead of spraying bloody water in thin sheets, it flows off his fingers like a spilled milkshake. Black and red combined, Jade adds the last color to the Snow White triptych. 

Avenging, he takes the bouquet of white flowers from your hands. The stems crunch in his harsh grip; the flowers sway in their downward descent. He brandishes them down by his thigh like one might hold a sword in the midst of battle. Nitroglycerin sweat bubbles and propane sweat pops on his palm. His black gloved hand catches fire, enveloping the bouquet in a blaze that rises vindictively up to his shoulders.

As the last bits of a fire spell, done without the conductor of his magic pen, start to shimmer away in ash and smoke, Jade lets the incinerated, curled inward, black flowers fall to the ground. He takes his dominant hand and slowly places it upon your cheek.

Soft. You are so soft. I should have taken off my gloves. His bleeding hand infects your skin with a new paint. Jade puts his thumb over your lips where someone has put clown lipstick on you. When your lips part slightly under his ministrations, no breath hits his thumb. 

His precious pearl, breathless. He wishes nothing more for you to open up your eyes and dispel his worries. 

“Jade!” Ah, it seems people are starting to come out of their stupor at the display Jade is presenting. He looks vexatious over his shoulder, briefly catching eye contact with Azul. “What are you possibly doing!” Jade also manages to catch his brother breaking comatose to stand up.

“There is no need to fret about me overblotting. I have a secure lid placed on my emotions. Unlike others.”

Hurt flashes in Azul’s eyes. Jade cannot stomach to check if his insult hurt who he intended it to hurt. Instead, he gingerly lifts you in his arms. Limp, you tumble into his embrace with gravity-obeying limbs. Your neck tilts back and your toes point down in Jade’s careful hold.

“Jade!”

This will prove difficult with both my hands holding them and no magic pen as a conductor. It is the only thought in Jade’s head as his brother shouts his name. Worry rarely crosses his twin’s face with such an intensity; most would judge it as anger. Ah, I am really being so impolite today. Sorry Floyd. The starting sparks of a teleportation spell start to pop around his shoulders and torso like fireflies. 

With a deep breath, Jade disappears in a supernova. 

More or less, Jade Leech has returned to being himself. Verbosely polite and formal; eager to lend a helping, subservient hand; jumping right back into the schedule he has: classes, duties for Azul, Mountain Lovers club activities, etcetera. He is a different picture of the man laying in bed, stricken with your absence; now, he has returned to the man he was in your presence. 

Is it because you two are reunited in presence? That old tale of Hercules and Meg, interlocked souls, finally touching again? Are you reunited? Azul cannot be certain that is true. Nobody has been able to locate your body since that day. 

Behind his glasses, Octavinelle’s housewarden traces the motions of his vice. He cannot see Jade’s expression, only scrutinizing over his back as he pens the order of a customer. It is a week after your uncompleted funeral. Azul’s stomach turns sick, watching Jade work effortlessly in Mostro Lounge, not knowing where Jade keeps your corpse. 

Corpse … All his limbs shudder at the word. It could be hidden under his own bedroom’s floorboards or locked away in Ramshackle with your three ghost companions. You could be anywhere.

Every thought Azul has on the situation makes it feel like salt and ice are colliding in his abdomen in a hissing burn. So, he decides to stop thinking about it. Which is why he is almost grateful when Jade comes up to him, distracting his mind from slipping into darker speculation.

Hand on his heart, Jade says, “Table Fifteen is requesting your presence. They have a question about one of our discontinued menu items – the salmon and lemon-ricotta pasta. I already divulged about the excess supply getting thrown out because of low demand. However, your presence was requested nonetheless.”

“Ah, thank you, Jade,” Azul says. It is just the distraction he needs before he thinks about anything more ghastly. Stock issues and dining will not haunt him with goosebumps and night terrors. He starts towards Table Fifteen.  

“Though … I can return and take care of it, if need be.” 

It is that odious sentence that gives Azul pause. Because that is exactly what the old Jade would offer, using a bit of rough, predatory treatment to de-escalate an issue. Same old Jade Leech, hiding a corpse somewhere on campus … who even knows if your body is on campus. 

“No … No, you are dismissed from the issue. Do whatever you please for the rest of your shift.”

“Very well. If you’ll excuse me.”

I have to go make preparations, Azul thinks as he goes to greet Table Fifteen. I don’t see it as necessary but, Azul glances one last time at Jade as the distance between them grows, Jade’s spine once again all he sees, I should prepare for the event of him overblotting.

Saprophytic organisms obtain their nutrients by breaking down dead organic matter. Fungi, bacteria, and water molds all have an exclusive diet of nature’s cadavers. In the simplest of terms, they eat death to sustain their own life. 

Not all mushrooms are saprotrophs. After all, mycorrhizal and parasitic and endophytic mushrooms have a different diet; it is just that a majority of the mushrooms one finds, one will find them living among them dead. As active decomposers, they refuse to let death be finite. As Jade opens his terrarium, chip-esque mushrooms that mimic the look of a body’s heat signals, he recalls fondly how saprotrophs are the easiest to cultivate. 

He takes out the turkey tail mushrooms, ripping them from their roots. Well, mushrooms have no roots but the image is still true. Turkey tail mushrooms are fascinating – they look so much like thermal heat vision, little branching waves of red, yellow, and white, thus making them look alive. And, they have a history of being used as medicine.

So vigorous with life yet bloated after a meal of death. 

Jade opens the book on his desk in the botanical gardens. People always chastised him for his love of mushrooms. If he had an affection towards flowers or perhaps even pretty yellow weeds, he supposes it would not be as frowned upon. He has always been this way, preferring the ugly duckling over the swan. You were of a similar disposition. 

Around his work station, an incense holder burns wisps of Worm’s Wort – which can dull the odor of anything. He flips through pages at a languid pace. From the window panes, moonlight slithers down a thousand maggots and makes their congealing home on Jade’s desk. Interlocking light lies down to rest as Jade stays awake into the night.

I’m so tired. The thought seeps in like a maggot in the ear of a cadaver. Numerous times, Jade changes his pair of nitrile gloves to rub at his eyes, warding off sleep. Moonlight maggots crawl over his skin.

It is only after his sixteenth failed potion (eighty-first if you count the others he has made in the past six nights after your funeral) with the wrong color, wrong texture, or wrong smell, does Jade’s head start to slip off his neck. On the verge of burning out, eyes blinking close, the desk rushes towards him like ground to a meteor, about to kiss his nose and face with pain, and – you catch him in your hand despite the smoldering sting of touching a meteor.

“You make and pick the strangest beds to fall asleep in. I can’t take my eyes off my Jade for a second, can I?” 

Jade blinks to see you resting next to him, forehead on your forearm which lies on the table. His cheek is warmed by your right hand which acts as a bridge between his flesh and the desk. Even though some of your hair is in the way and the left side of your face is shielded in the cradle of your arm, Jade can see it clear as day. There is no scar threading itself across your forehead. 

You give him a warm smile and Jade, who is a cold-blooded creature, replicates that warmth. The last exhausted fuses of energy left in him lift up his lovestruck lips. “Tired, baby,” you ask him.

“Mmmmh, just a bit. I have been at this for quite some time.”

“We should head back to Octavinelle then. Can’t have you knocking over a potion in your sleep.”

“No, no. Let’s stay here a little longer.” To bask in your presence, Jade needs that to a higher degree than he needs water or air. “Don’t go so soon.”

You are dressed in your school uniform. It has all of your soul’s idiosyncrasy in each article. Not really enrolled in Night Raven College, therefore lacking a uniform, you wear a leather jacket without pockets and a grid pattern collared shirt. The sleeves of your button-up gently pull away from being sandwiched by his cheek and desk. You busy yourself with brushing strands of black hair into its correct placement.

“Okay, okay. We can stay here for a while, but you’re definitely going to have a sore neck and sore shoulders in the morning.”

“Pamper me tomorrow?”

You hum, considering it. By now, most of the mismatched, colored tresses have been tucked gingerly behind his ear. You follow the diamond outline of a single sturgeon scale with your finger as you say, “If the price is right.”

Jade's smile grows stupid at that, showing just a sliver of his teeth. You always did like poking fun at his Octavinelle habits. Allowing himself to melt under your ministrations, he murmurs, “Anything for you.”

“Happy to do business with you then, Mr. Leech.”

You move the nail of your index along diamond scales’ edges, content to do as he says. Stay here a little longer under a gazebo of stars. Sevens, it might have been cheesily poetic what you said in the past, yet Jade agrees in totality with your poesy. The universe has collapsed, burnt away worries and responsibilities, and all that remains of creation is you and him. 

Jade lifts his face so the hand playing with his earring falls over his mouth. With pouting lips, he plants a field of kisses on your palm. Such a warm palm. Your hand smells of raspberries and whipped vanilla from a foam soap you were particularly fond of. Jade can even smell it over the Worm’s Wort. And, Worm’s Wort – that is meant to keep his potion-making a secret – is an overwhelming, astringent scent that blankets other smells with high efficiency. 

Everything, even his nose, narrows down to you. It is not an unpredictable feat. Azul once said your voice drags him out of any task with the ease of a siren working to drown a sailor. Which is why he hears you clearly even as you mumble, “Oh, I have this poem I want to workshop with you.” 

Jade mourns the loss of your hand when you move energized. Leaning back in your stool, both hands fall behind you to grip under the seat. You throw back your head, conjuring all the verses up in your head. When you tilt your eyes to look at Jade, you have this grin on your face that balances on the fence of being sleazy with gross intent or being liberative with genius intent. Like you will either tell him you found a dead animal or you found the cure to cancer. He is all ears for whatever you throw. 

He is only thrown for a bit of a loop as you swing your feet to the side and leap off the stool. Not perturbed over your body but rather an article of clothes. The noose around your neck is a blood-red tie with a stark white pattern of skulls upon it, mimicking the look of cut-out paper snowflakes. Patterned by two distinct rows: skulls connecting forehead to forehead then skulls facing the viewer. It vanishes from his sight as your back faces him. 

Out of your mouth, poetry diffuses in the heavy, wet air of the botanical gardens. 

“Wake up. (your feet carry you out towards the stretch of cobblestone, then playfully, you turn and disappear behind large, flowing leaves and unusual flowers)

Door Death, I knock upon thee (“(name)?” jade springs up, a deep fear swimming through him because you are out of his sight)

I ask the eternal question (when he pushes back the large leaves and peculiar flowers, you are no longer in that same spot; his head moves on a swivel, looking for you)

Has my life all been a dream? (your voice carries on the eastern air)

Has all my life been a dream? (your voice carries on the western air)

The eternal question unanswered (pressure falls over his eyes and heart, where are you!)

Door Death, I knock upon thee (a finger taps his shoulder-blade)

Wake up.”

When Jade turns, your embrace retreating slowly, you are holding out a solitary Easter lily out towards him. The gesture plainly tells him to take it. A white trumpet-shaped mouth yawns at him, five or so tongues of yellow pollen sticking out. It looks so correct in your hold that Jade almost doesn’t want to accept it.

Heart knocking with lingering desperation, he takes the Easter lily in hand all the same. In replacement to his palm, he rests his knuckles to his avalanching chest, careful of the flower in his caress. Before he can comment on the verses, you beat him to the punch. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret; my Jade isn’t stupid.” 

He chuckles at that, eyes squinting with mirth.“Don’t I always say you should set your expectations upon higher platforms when with me?” 

“My expectation towards your stupidity or your intellect?” 

“Oya? I’d prefer the latter.” A teasing eyebrow is raised.  

However, you grow grim like this is a matter of life or death. You twine arms around his neck and ensnare him to lean down to your height. In your eyes, a maelstrom of mental unease rages and causes your hues to appear milky-gray with worry. Under the concern of your bruised eyes, Jade responds, “You think I’m making a rash decision? Or perhaps, one that is not fully educated. I assure you that I have rigorously studied this.”

Your mouth quirks. “I think you are choosing the wrong method.”

“Then, enlighten me please.”

You lean close to him, nose to nose. Unlike the sweetness of raspberries and vanilla, your breath is something foul. Cadaverine and putrescine scent that he can only compare to the smell of his mushrooms at peak rot. Jade cannot focus on the scent because your voice hypnotizes him. 

Slowly, you recite a song like it is poetry. “A dream is a wish your heart makes; when you’re fast asleep; in dreams you will lose your heartaches; whatever you wish for, you keep.”

Whatever dust of happiness is holding Jade’s lips blows away. The frown cuts his features. It takes a great deal for him to respond over the commotion of rain and lightning storming around in his ribcage; he only manages one word, perfumed in hurt and hate. “Him?”

Your next breath smells like mint.  He imagines it would be something lovely to taste in a kiss. “I trust him. He is dear to me.”

Hate and hurt dull Jade’s casual loquacity. “But he hurt you.”

“So have you.” Now only hurt remains on Jade’s tongue. You do not let him refute, listing off, “So has Riddle, so has Leona and Azul, so has Jamil, so has Rook, so has Vil and Idia, so has Sebek, so has everyone that has known me. What is one more scar?”

It is the harsh truth, Jade knows. Magicless and fragile, you have been in the infirmary as often as an alcohol back to the liquor cabinet. Nothing worse than scratches and one broken wrist, nothing like this, Jade wants to desperately argue but your eyes silence him.

“So please,” you continue. “Please, give him a chance … You know, I’m still so sad that I never got to arrange that joint club meeting – Mountain Lovers and Gargoyle Research Studies. I think it would have been a peaceful walk at night, looking out for mushrooms and gargoyles. 

“You two are so alike. It amuses me.” This truth takes its knife and thunders itself into Jade’s gut. Maneuvering with incredible dexterity, truth stabs into the eight tic-tac-toe regions of his abdomen, cutting deep red mouths into pallid flesh that tell him: yes, this is a truth. We love the same person. Jade does not voice this growing pain. 

“I assure you, it is beneficial to have full faith in me. Have I ever made a split -choice decision? Do I not map out everything ahead of time? Besides, failing to my weaknesses in magical areas is not something I’m inclined to do, my dear.”

“Consider it. Anything for me, right?” 

Ah, how villainous you are. To use his own words against him like that is a quality he both adores and loathes. Jade maneuvers the Easter lily so it sits in his hand like a cigarette. A loving hand raises up to one of the arms entwined around his neck, rubbing along the sleeve, as he slyly objects, “Surely you can understand my hesitation. After his -”

“I almost died –” Jade’s heart stops beating, fear is a powerful clog to all his heart’s arteries. You continue softly, “ during Azul’s overblot. What happened –”

“Let’s not talk about it. Just trust me.”

“Jade.”

“(Name).”

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream you wish will come true … Please, consider it for my sake.”

“... I will play around with it in my head … No promises that I won’t crush it like it’s a bug.”

The tone of the conversation turns light. “I hope the sound of it buzzing annoys you.”

“How cruel of you.”

“Ah, NRC has really rubbed off on me. I’m just too wicked.” A laugh breaks your lips.

“The worst. Worse than the worst. Vile.” Smiling with a mouthful of glass, shark-like teeth, Jade finally closes the gap between the two of you. The scent of mint too enticing and the sight of you too dopamine-inducing, he has to kiss your lips until you cry or moan. It is in his biological nature. 

The gazebo of stars rebuilds itself. Each cedar wood paneling falls back into perfect placement. Yours and Jade’s lip find all the old familiar spots of pleasure; first just lip fat smooshing together until you both in perfect sync open your mouths to each other. It might be seen as tedious already knowing the moves but Jade thinks it is a testament to how truly made for one another each of you are.

And, of course, he never allows it to get boring. Tongues like magma flowing in combining rivulets, Jade takes to moving his hands down past the curve of your shoulders to the side of your cheeks. He tilts your head in the opposite direction of how he moves his, deepening the kiss. 

You grip the back of teal strands and real pain ignites on his skin. Pain made by your physical grip. Jade follows along to mimic that harshly loving gesture. However, when he rests his fingers to cup the back of your head, he stumbles upon a scar line. A few inches above your nape. It lies like a jagged river cutting apart two pieces of land.

A warning bell blares in Jade’s mind. The sound causes him to break away. It is not buzzing though, like you were predicting. 

Night Raven College’s clock chimes twice, deep in the bowels of dark, interlocking hallways. It knocks on Jade’s skull and pulls him away. When he lifts his head off the desk, blinking at the sight of potions, his shoulders and neck are incredibly sore. 2 A.M. Two chimes after all mean 2 A.M.  The air is so thick with Worm’s Wort that he almost chokes on it. 

He does end up choking. Not on something as flowy as Worm’s Wort smoke. Rather, he chokes on something rather salty and dangerously watery. 

At 2:47 A.M, Jade Leech walks into the Diasomnia dorm.

At 3:08 A.M, Jade Leech walks out of the Diasomnia dorm, a deal made.

Floyd wakes up facing an empty bed. This is not entirely odd; Jade has a scheduled A period while Floyd opts to keep his first period free. With thick fog still lingering in his brain, it does seem a bit odd not to see Jade because for the past month he has remained in bed. But – Jade is doing better. What gives Floyd pauses is the lingering thought: did I hear Jade come in at all last night? 

Floyd is a light sleeper, always has been, so he should have been able to hear him at least enter the dorm last night or exit the dorm this morning. He doesn’t even think he heard a ladybug on the creaking floor; all of Octavinelle was unnaturally still last night like a graveyard. Before he can ponder longer on dead silence, his phone rings. 

What Azul hisses over the phone has Floyd kicking his covers like they have caught fire. “Tell me you know where Jade is. Tell me right now; where is your brother?”

From point A to point B, Floyd and Jade Leech’s dormitory to Mostro Lounge’s VIP Room, the distance is about eight minutes for a normal person. Due to their longer strides, Floyd and Jade can cut this measurement by two minutes while Azul takes the full eight. It takes Floyd three minutes to point B, as while Azul curses his ear and Floyd curses under his breath. 

Floyd knows it bad when dogmatic Azul does not scold him for walking through numerous hallways and his precious Lounge without a pair of socks, and it gets worse when Azul does not scold him for still being in his pajamas – an XL shirt with poetry in a downward pattern saying: “®, 40S & SHORTIES, BAD DECISIONS. GOOD TIMES., WORLDVIEW” with a pair of white striped, blue cotton pants – at nine on a Tuesday morning. Two Azuls speak in unison, one on the telephone receiver and one in front of him, “I think he has sealed it up with magic.”

It is a book. Just as Floyd’s hand had fallen on Mostro Lounge’s  VIP door, he had inquired why Azul Ashengrotto of all people was having such a hard time getting a single book open. A book is easy to open; a book sealed with magic should be easy too, for a mage of Azul’s talents. 

“Well, can’t ya just break it? It can’t be anything stronger than what we learned in Practical Magic?” Floyd disconnects the call as he talks; he does not need two Azuls in his ear. 

“If the charm was something from that course then of course. This is more on par with the third year Conjuration course … or Ancient Curses.”

Though only seventeen, one would think with the maturity etched in Azul’s features that he was nearing twenty-seven instead. He has a hand depressed on his face and his eyes drawn into a sharp squint. Behind the shield of his glasses, a dozen speculations and calculations dance like sparks of lightning. Floyd hates it as much as he is glad to see that incisive prowess.  

“But … it’s just a book about mushrooms.” Which is entirely true. The book that Azul’s stare is burning a hole through has written plainly on it: Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares. 

When considering current events, the title causes Floyd’s stomach to turn inside out. However, it is something Floyd has seen Jade read before Malleus’s overblot. It is just a boring book. A boring book that for some reason won’t open.

Azul verbalizes Floyd’s inner doubt, “A book that Jade left behind. A book that is not opening no matter what elementary magic I throw at it.” 

Left in the botanical gardens. Left there overnight when Jade said he was going to be right back after tending to his terrariums. Getting back into hobbies was a sign of healing from trauma, right? Floyd feels like the skin of stomach is not only inside out but being torched by fire.

“I‘ll open it. I’m on the same level as Jade. Can’t be too hard.” Just as Floyd starts walking up to Azul’s desk, he is stopped. 

“No! No … we shouldn’t risk your health if this takes something more to open.”

Vexation falls on Floyd’s face. His teeth displayed and brow crinkled, “Huuuh?” He stomps over to the desk. “It’s Jade magic. It ain’t gonna kill us.”

“No, but it might drain one of us. And,” Azul hesitates. But when Floyd slams his hands down on the VIP desk, determinate coals burn in his sky-blue eyes. He stares down Floyd without a single flinch. “And you run the fastest out of the two of us, so we cannot risk your energy.”

It takes a moment for him to back down. Reading the map of the plan on Azul’s expression, it comes to Floyd’s attention what exactly Azul is hinting at. “Fiiine.” Floyd’s dominant hand still crosses up to rest on his right shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I’ma be happy about it though.”

“Trust me, neither am I.” And he really isn’t. This entire situation leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

On the ledge of Azul’s desk rests his staff. The octopus’s bulbous head keeps it steady on the surface. Authentic silver shines elegantly under the expensive lighting. Between the nest of curling tentacles, Azul’s gray gemstone sits, ready to be utilized. White gloves wrap around the sleek black handle.

When Azul holds his staff above the book, Floyd interrupts, “Ma called me two nights ago and said – (Floyd sits in his bed, stricken by the sound of his grown, emotionally shielded mother crying. The sound of her sobs feel so artificial in his left ear, like hearing a creature trying to mimic human speech patterns. Something so visceral wrong laced in the vocal cords of it. 

“Mama, Mama, what’s wrong,” Floyd pleads, about one breath away from grabbing a transformation potion and rushing to the Mirror Chamber. 

“Tell – Tell Jade to pick up his phone please – I just! I – auh – Floooyd,” his mother sobs. 

“Mama, he’s in class. He can’t pick up his phone right now. He’s in class. What’s wrong? Ma?”

That seems to soothe something in Narissa Leech. There is a slick sound of her wiping away tears, probably bringing talons under her eyelids and probably bringing her forearm across her nose. After a few tearful breath, she whispers, “He’s not sleepin’?”

“No, he went to his A period class. Mama, what’s wrong?”

“I,” she sniffles, “I had this awful dream. You and Jade were tiny and still sharing your bedrooms. I went to wake up both of you for breakfast but Jade wouldn’t wake up. I kept shaking and shakin’ him. It was like he was in a coma and just wouldn’t get up. He looked like a tiny corpse. 

“I kept calling for you and Dad, but neither of you would come help. My little baby. I kept trying to wake him up. I just tried and tried. Then, I pried his left eye open and ah!” His mother cries once more. “He looked so dead in his sleep!”). – and I haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Floyd finishes.

It is very rare for either of the twins to show their fears. Fear is a delicious seasoning that gets you devoured in the Coral Sea. Though it wears a mask on Floyd’s face, fear is still evident in his voice despite the steadiness of each syllable. Sometimes friends can just measure how much fear the other has, even when it is not shown.

Azul frowns sympathetically. He has only really had his mother and step-father; worrying about a sibling is uncharted territory for Azul. However, if he had friends with a bond as close as a sibling relationship, it might be Floyd and Jade. It just might. 

It probably is not though. Probably.

“Since we were little, your brother has always been capable. Both in his magic and in his wit. Even … even in this instance, I doubt Jade will ever make a decision hazardously.” Which is exactly what worries them; Jade is brilliant, who knows what an odious mixture of intellect and grief could end up making.

Azul touches the octopus’s forehead to the cover of Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares. In reaction, the room explodes with the power of a violet tornado.

“Fuck,” Floyd shouts as wind body-checks him like a obese linebacker. 

Azul’s hat flies off his head. His glasses would risk being magnetized into the same wind-polarity if he tilted his face away from the shimmering violet. However, Azul does not wither even once at the tremendously powerful locking spell. The violet that stains his face like grape only hones him into the irrefutable fact that this is Jade’s magic. Despite being on the verge of being knocked over by it, the realization fills Azul with relief. 

Floyd’s violet nails scrap lines into Azul’s desk but Azul does not twitch out of his resolve. Papers lying on his desk go airborne. The housewarden grits his violet teeth so hard that he risks breaking his jaw, his mole stretching down with the shape of his grimace. 

C’mon, c’mon! Slowly, the tentacles on Azul’s staff start to unfurl from their comatose state. His gem stone and the octopus head remain fixed to the handle unlike the squirming appendages. Silver metal moves fluidly and wraps itself around the cover of the book like a starfish. 

Then, with a burst of brighter violet that fades away to nothing, chanterelle dreams and amanita nightmares reveal their faces to the two of them. Well, not to Floyd. Temporarily blind due to the atomic explosion, he is wiping his eyes with his knuckles, blinking away little spots of endless black and blinding white. Which is why for a vital moment, Floyd misses the look of absolute horror that paints Azul’s face.

“Th-This –.” As the tentacles of his magic staff congeal back into their normal state, Azul sets the handle’s end down on the ground. Uncoordinated, it tumbles to the ground just as Azul picks up the book, holding it close to his chest.

“Wha? What’s in it? Shit, this kills,” Floyd hisses, hunched over. A stray tear falls down Floyd’s left eye as he slowly straightens out. “Stupid Jade.”

With each page flip, Azul’s face turns a lighter shade of white. When a hand reaches out to grab the book, Azul slaps it with so much force that Floyd groans in pain. 

“C’mon, let me see,” Floyd whines. It is not a childish whine but more of a warning, he is going to get violent if Azul does not hand over the stupid book now. Floyd grabs the desk and leans over the top, trying to get a glimpse of whatever Azul is hiding. All he sees is paragraphs of text and a block where an image is drawn.

He does not get to know what the image is because Azul slams the book shut and demands with urgency, “Where is your brother, Floyd?”

A dragon’s treasure is guarded and hoarded with a shield-and-sword-heart acting as its knights. Malleus has found his treasure to have become his memories of you. If each recollection was a shiny ruby or bright diamond, Malleus puts them all in an isolated, inaccessible cache. In times where comfort is needed, he returns to roll a precious gem in his talons, moments of just you and him unshared with others playing in his mind. Right now, Malleus rotates a rose quartz.

This particular rose quartz was formed by magma crystallization as all are. The time period it was formed in was before you knew his true identity. 

You two are perched miles above the ground, on one of the eastern turrets of Night Raven College. You curl into your notepad as Malleus takes in the scenery. 

He took you up here by teleportation. You have improved in leaps and bounds from your first time being maneuvered about the earth by a teleportation spell. Unlike your first time, you only gag now rather than puke. After a spell (not performed by his hands) of dizziness, you two took your seats upon the roof. Meters in front of you lies a single gargoyle. Wingspan extended out and the spine facing you. 

He has already explained it to you in great detail, and you listened. Really listened. So used to be stared through, Malleus has recently been finding his ears turn pink at how you look at him. Tonight, he has cut off his presentation earlier than normal. Bashfully empty of words burnt out from your smoldering eyes.

Malleus welcomes the reprieve with gratitude. Chirping crickets and grinding graphite is the only music playing in his ears – though he can sometimes hear the jazz notes of you going no, no, that line does work, no, what’s another word for … no, too pretentious and has to keep himself from chuckling fondly.

Soon, the crickets find themselves without any further accompaniment; you have stopped writing. Curious, Malleus looks away from the stone he has been studying. His neck rolls. Rejuvenated, his pulse pounds in the taut muscles found in his throat at the sight of you. What a sight you truly are, unafraid to be here with him. 

You catch onto his unshakable staring. Tongue in cheek, pencil clenched in hand, you announce “I.” The pencil weeps under your strength. “I think I got it now.”

Malleus raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You tap your pencil on the edge of your notepad anxiously. Then, taking a deep breath, you read your haiku:

“Apathy on stone

My prince, do not reveal tears

Gargoyle, keep your face.”

The look you give him is uneasy. He imagines you are anticipating harsh criticism, writing a poem on a subject matter he is so endowed in. Rather than criticism, the only thing in Malleus’s heart is a quick skipping beat.

You have such a way with words that it leaves his spellbound despite the unequivocal fact that you are very magicless. The words seem so knitted together for his especial heart. His own face of stone. However, knowing you do not know he is a prince, he considers the five-seven-five syllable poem and covers up his growing blush with one inquiry , “tears?”

“Because gargoyles are waterspouts. So, I wanted to layer an emotion to the functionality, the rigid job.” For a moment, you consider the poem in your hand then your mouth moves a mile a second. “Ugh! Truthfully, I wanted to say ‘a prince must never cry’ so it can keep the chain of commands like ‘keep your face’ but then the line would only be six syllables! Ugh, I hate haikus! I can’t write a single good one.” 

You look about ready to crumple up and toss the note away with hatred. It would not be surprising, you do this a lot. Enough to the point where Malleus has a collection of crinkled up poems — “If you want them, you can have them. They fucking stink though,” you had first bemoaned when Malleus first asked to keep your workshopping words. This one though, Malleus wants you to be proud of it.

“I happen to think it is quite beautiful, spellbinding almost.”

The way your eyes shimmer when looking at him leaves Malleus choking on the night air. He continues despite his temperature rising in his gut and nape.

“The first and third lines feel impersonal, but the middle line is soft. It is the gentleness sandwiched and withered away by the stone. Despite the cold exterior, there is a heart in there.”

The way you look at him — all the ways you look at him, but even more so now — has him falling helplessly in love with you. Stars blaze in your eyes like he has opened up the jaws of the universe and plucked your favorite part of the cosmo down for you. He would do so for you. He would do so much for you – divide the ocean down the middle, change the phrase of the moon, or tear the sky in two. Wounded so tightly across your finger that it surely cuts off circulation. You look at him so sweetly, bathed by the night’s glow. Malleus bites his tongue bloody to keep from telling you that you have the prettiest eyes. 

“That’s — That’s actually really a revolutionary way to look at it. I —,” you glance down at your work, “I really didn’t have the optimism to see it that way.”

“You should be more prideful of what you create. Your work too has a heart despite its cold exterior, even at its most tortured.”

“Stooop, I’ll blush.” You raise a hand over your eyes but a sleazy grin is underneath your fingers. You enjoy praise a lot.

“I am just being honest with you, Child of Man. You always asked me to be.” He pauses then asks, “however, may I inquire why use the word prince?”

“I don’t know. Don’t they seem regal to you at times?”

“Hm, there seems to be a resemblance.” 

“They remind me of you a lot. Regal. Ah, not that you’re a prince though … What’s that grin for? Don’t tell me I inflated your ego.”

“Nothing of the sorts, Child of Man.”

“Ah, whatever.” Despite your grumbled tone, you flip to the next notebook page. It is the first one he has seen you save rather than tear up. 

Rain pitters on the building, starting out soft like the languid pop of popcorn in a microwave. No, not on Night Raven College’s roof. Rainfall taps like fingertips on Diasomnia’s dormitory, and Malleus realizes it is time for him to put this rose quartz back in his treasure hoard. When his and Jade’s eyes meet across the room, his breath grows thorn in his lungs. Now is not the time to reflect.

From the towering polygon windows, the icy clouds heavy with rain are just barely visible through the shower sticking to the panes. Worser weather is certain to come like an expected guest. Malleus, tongue heavy, announces, “All that is left now is to retrieve their body.”

Diasomnia’s lounge has been cleared of all its furniture and rugs. Tables teleport away and rugs roll themselves up. Black leather couches and chairs are depressed tightly on the southern wall behind Jade and Malleus, blocking the entrance. Not that they are necessary barricades when the bombay blackwood doors are locked firmly with ancient magic. 

It is set in motion to take place in the lounge’s heart. The nook bordered by two grand staircases and twenty feet below where Diasomnia’s throne resides. Upon the cement ground, illuminated by no light, lies a circle of complex patterns and symbols made of thorns. In the middle of linking sigils, Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden stands with an apathetic, stone face. The same expression he had worn when he and Malleus made their contractual deal. 

He keeps his cards so close to his chest, you once bemoaned on your nightly ventures. Malleus remembers it well; you were reaching tear-out-your-hair hysteria due to cooking a meal for Jade Leech and not receiving a clear glimpse into his opinion. He’s impossible to read!  Your teeth flashed with frustration. 

It is an appropriate analogy. Like an experienced gambler, Jade knows not to leave his hands vulnerable to any ill-intent strikes. At first, he was incredibly suspicious of your kindness until evolution changed your kindness to a craving. With Malleus, Jade hides his cards behind his back and then shields them with an illusion spell to change the faces of the playing cards.

Making this shrewd deal was one of Jade’s finer moments. Like an experienced brain surgeon, he knows where to pull with roughness or push with softness in the intricate webbing of nerve-endings. Using survivor’s guilt as keen forceps and using his own signature spell as hooks, Jade performed a deal Azul would have been praiseful of. 

Which is why he will comply with the terms, because he has already prematurely agreed to them. Green eyes watch him pull black gloves carefully from his hands. He folds them once, pockets them, then unclips his magic pen from his breast pocket. A collision of two stars bursts in bright colors on the surface of Jade’s pen.

From out of thin air, you appear. You fall into Jade’s arm with all the grace of a dead body. Jade catches you in a dancer’s standard dip. Limp, your neck stretches as far as it can while dangling strands of hair point down at the ground like a thousand knives. 

He plants a gentle kiss on your cheek. Mourning and love mix in his heterochromic eyes. Jade takes to silently brushing away the pieces that cover up your forehead’s scar as if to almost say to Malleus who watches Jade lift you bridal style: look at what you did to them, look. 

Malleus’s otherwise imperative stare moves to a window. The rain is starting to get gradually heavier. When Malleus looks back, Jade is kneeled in the middle of the circle of thorns, as was pre-planned. The stone-faced prince of Briar Valley interlocks his gloves underneath the gem’s handle base instead of just holding it in one hand.

“No matter what you see or hear, your focus must never flicker from the Child of Man. A single interruption is a breakage in a dam of irreversible consequence. I ask you to heed these words carefully … Jade.”

“Of course.” Curt and clip, Jade’s confirmation is nothing more than contractual obligation. 

The vines from the head base to gemstone bring to shift. Two interlocked vines rotate in a downward spiral, dancing around one another. 

“Then, let us not waste another second.”

The spindle’s wheel starts to spin. Slowly at first, it moves at a pace where one can keep track of the mismatched sized spokes. Gradually, the spindle picks up pace. Inner spokes start to move in a heartbeat-esque pattern, up and down from long to short to long to short. Bombay blackwood twirls; the natural grain melts together into one smooth surface. It keeps picking up pace, twirling faster and faster. It is now impossible to distinguish where the spokes lie as they all melt into nebulous black. Accumulating to its peak, Malleus’s spindle moves so swiftly that it appears to slow down, moving counterclockwise. 

Wind picks up in Diasomnia as if a tornado is tearing through the stone ribcage. Malleus’s hair flies around him like ebon seaweed caught along a boat’s racing hook. The obsidian markings on his forehead stay relenting to the fierce winds, tight upon his increasingly crinkling brow. Behind his pointed ears, ebon strands whip back and forth with a vengeance. 

Jade’s and your hair move in tandem, blown in the same direction. Despite the discord around, despite when Malleus starts to chant, nothing tears his gaze from you. His eyes are intent on you like a mere blink would cause you to dissolve into seafoam. Despite the lighting hitting the ground, he keeps his stare. 

A breath later, the lounge is plunged into green. 

On the tongue of a stone bridge, Floyd and Azul appear out of thin air. Not entirely out of thin air though; around their shoulders, the shimmer of the transportation mirror into Diasomnia fades over their bodies. Rain smacks them in the face with a grievous scorn. Azul loses his footing temporarily but Floyd catches him by the elbow.

He pushes up his glasses, rain falls so hard and fast that they become more of an obstacle than a helper for sight. Getting drenched by the second, Azul stops with Floyd to watch the show of dancing lightning. “By Sevens, do you really think Draconia is overblotting again?”

Diasomnia staff and students in Mostro Lounge had started checking their phones as Floyd and Azul stepped out from the VIP room. Apparently, there was a storm brewing in the Diasomnia dormitory. Apparently, the main foyer was closed off and the vice-housewarden was evacuating students. Apparently, Malleus Draconia is overblotting a second time. Who knows if the information is reliable. All that is important is Jade was seen days ago, walking on this very stone bridge past midnight.

“I don’t care. I know Sea Slug knows where Jade is.” Floyd’s lips pull into a beastly snarl. “C’mon.” 

A cold sweat breaks on Malleus’s forehead. From the two connecting diamonds imprinted on his forehead, sweat drops. It trails down over his nose to his lips which are harshly breathing air in and out. 

Malleus Draconia has to minutely remind himself how breathing works as the tornado rips through Diasomnia like a savage bear. Pressure stomps on his chest with an iron boot. Through all his wild chase to keep oxygen in his lungs, he recognizes it not as pain but rather a deserved punishment. I’m sorry, Child of Man. It is an unheard sentiment; even if said, it would be torn from his lips and thrown yards away by the wind. 

There are many unheard sentiments chopped by the furious air. Most of them come from Silver, Sebek, and Lilia, behindthe barracked door, drowned out by turbulent winds. Harsh air chops up the syllables like a knife, turning them into incomprehensible poetry. The sentiments matter little until among them a single voice shouts, “JADE!”

Stricken, Jade tears his hell-bent gaze away from you. He does not answer loud enough to be heard over the maelstrom but the sentiment is still sincere. “Floyd?”

“Ignore it! Focus on them!!” Under Malleus’s instructions, Jade fixes the nucleus of his sight back onto you. A resurrection can only be completed with the kiss of true love. Without that passionate embrace, the body will lose the returning soul it momentarily holds. A true love’s kiss seals it back in the body. He waits for the predestined moment where he can connect your lips together with unwavering focus. 

“Just a little longer now, my love.” Jade’s lips pull into a lovestruck grin. “Soon.”

Among the wind, voices converse:

“Pry open the door!”

“We have been trying to!”

“Your hands are not broken or bloodied! You obviously have not!!”

“Malleus, this could kill you! This could kill you both!”

“ Malleus!!”

“Jade, you fuck!”

Azul shouts with all his remaining strength, “Jade, don’t do this!!”

A black star forms silently over Jade’s head. 

All of his life, he has been unapproachable. All of his life, people have found his teeth nightmarish and his eyes ghoulish. All of his life, he has waited for someone like you. You mean the universe to him; driven to the point where he would do something as forbidden as this. Malleus grips his staff tighter and Jade grips you tighter.

The black star is an abomination. Quantum processes work in rotation, lapping over each other like yin-and-yang. Ebony water shimmer in the middle of the black star while the outer ring strangles the air atoms with thorns. Atomic particles split into twos, going smaller than scientists thought possible, with the strength of the semiclassical, gravitational abomination. 

It thumps like a grotesque, wet heart and churns with the sound of visceral tearing. From the black thorns, the atmosphere collapses into blue-gray dust, destroying the atoms in its way. The black star gives a pained groan before it expels what it has taken.

From the inky depths of a black star, wisps of smoke start to seep down like water from overhead greenhouse hoses. The plumes of cloud hiss with head-splitting volume. Slowly, those misty clouds spiral back into a congealing mass. A split tornado swirling back into its original shape. Smoke tightens and arrows down before erupting into a cloud over your face. You swallow it; from your eyes, to your nose, to your ears, to your mouth, you swallow all the mist until there is nothing left in the collapsing air. 

Perhaps you are not swallowing; perhaps it is entering.

Jade watches intent each centimeter square of your face with glassy eyes. He waits until each wisps of vapor diffuses into the very pores of your skin. When the air is clear of the smoke, he brings up his right hand to move hair that has fallen over your features.

Onto the skies of your lips, Jade Leech whispers his heart. “I love you. I cannot live this life without my heart and soul. Come back to me; where you belong, my love, is with me.” Under a gruesome black star, he kisses you. 

It is an unreciprocated kiss. When kissing a corpse, one should never expect to be greeted with tender amorous sensations. This is why Jade does not despair when he feels nothing, suctioning your lifeless lips in two kisses before pecking harshly for the third and final kiss. It is alright – he can have his real kiss soon – because the black star is killing itself. 

Collapsing air closes in a snap. Leftover blue-gray powder hangs in the air like dust particles seen from the sunlight’s rays. Slowly, green light starts to slither away, dimming in quanta measures. All is so tranquil; even the tornado winds bottled in the lounge start to dim away. Then, like your heart is trying to jump from your chest, you start to hyperventilate in Jade’s arms.

“(Na-Name) … (Name),” love washes over Jade’s tongue. You twist violently in his arms, throat and chest pounding up and down with irregular breaths. Like a cornered prey, your eyes are wild with confusion. “It’s okay … I got you. You’re safe … Oh, you’re so beautiful. My love.” 

Neck rolling back, seizure-like eyes go white and you cough out a mushroom-shaped cloud of blue-gray dust. Black blood drips down your left nostril and trails like a tear off your cheek. Exhaustively, your chest continues to punch in and out with air that misses their connection in your lungs by centimeters. If you do not find a way to breathe, you will surely die a second time. 

Not that Jade would let that happen after just getting you back. Jade maneuvers you with ease. He moves your back so it lies on his chest and whispers,  “I know it will be difficult but follow along to my breath. Feel it go in … out … in … out … in … out … there, there … out … in … good, so good.”

Your chest beats wildly like the tempo of a metal song while Jade’s chest beats with the measured drum of rhythm and blues. Ungloved skin rests, fingers spread wide, on your chest. Each groove of each other’s bones are felt. Past the layers of muscle, skin, and clothes, your lungs touch together in a kiss. Jade depresses his chest on your back, bending you into a hunch. His words are almost delirious.

“I love you. I love you so much. I love you, please see it and believe it. I would do anything for you, (Name).”

Slowly, the tempo of your lungs start to dim like the lightning, green lights, and wind do. Jade moves his hand from your chest to your left shoulder. He depresses his lips on your neck, holding onto you painfully tight. 

“ … Right where I want you to be again. Be here with me. Be awake with me. I love you.”

You capture your first real breath as the door to the lounge bursts open.

You turn, eyes wide as saucers. Behind you, Jade’s timid smiling face greets you from your eternal sleep. Another string of black blood drips down your face, this one coming from your right nostril. Your brows creases then flattens out, recognizing the face after a moment of hesitation..

“Jade?”

In response, Jade smiles with all his teeth.

Separate from you two, Malleus lies on the floor. His own heart and lungs beating erratically, panting like a dog on a smoldering summer’s day. Lilia may put his hand on his shoulder to try and vanquish the tidal wave of breathlessness but Malleus shrugs it off. His staff is knocked by his side from the explosion of the black star collapsing. Malleus uses it to push himself up on his knees. 

His heart floods with relief and love at seeing the sight of you breathing in Jade’s arms. Besotted beyond belief, he whispers lovestruck, “Child of Man.” Then, the calm expression melts off his face and reveals panic. Because that is not –!

“Jade!”

Floyd breaks into the room like a storm; shoulder-checks Sebek who is trying to reach Malleus; jumps over the furniture that prove to be useless barracks. “Jade,” he shouts again when he notices his brother has yet to turn away from you. 

Their eyes find each other across the room easily. It is incredibly hard to see in the Coral Sea, biological and environmental factors working double-time together to ensure they stayed in the middle of the food chain. Their shared beacon of gold keeps them tethered together in the sea and on the land. No one else, not even their parents have an eye similar to theirs. That’s my brother is what that single ring of gold means.

Floyd can recognize Jade as such even now at the worst of times. However, a marginal note is stapled onto the thought. That’s my brother and, right now, I’m terrified of him. It is an odious thought. Sevens, Floyd can feel the tap-dancers of bile make their merry way up his throat at this very moment. What keeps them tethered together feels more like a chain than a security line to use.

“Bad decisions, good times,” Jade reads off his t-shirt. “Hm, Floyd?”

How can he speak so calmly with that in his arms? Perhaps, that too is part of why Floyd feels goosebumps on the back of his thighs. A prey or lower predator has signals receptors to recognize danger. A cat shows its fear in a twitching tail; Floyd wonders how he must be showing his own fear. Call it animal insight but a part of Floyd knows deep down, that is not you in his brother’s arms. 

“Ja-Jaido.”

“Florido.”

Do this for me, Jade’s eyes seem to implore. Ah, you asshole, Floyd’s eyes respond. 

He walks forward through a graveyard of thorns. “They probably can’t walk that well. Gotta be winded.” Floyd outstretches his left hand; Jade’s eyes squint in gaiety and your own gape wide in curiosity. The grip Jade has around you is protective.  “C’mon, get up.”

“Thank you, Floyd,” Jade says, placing his hand on his brother’s. 

[imbibitorz]

BROKEN RECORD ⭑.ᐟ

can't seem to forget about you﹒﹒﹒

mr. reca x fem!reader, smut, somewhat dark-ish content; obsessive yandere-ish??? reca and reader; mentions of perverted behavior and blackmailing; sex recording, implied babytrapping(???); dub-con-ish (reca passes out); marking, unprotected p in v; overstimulation; fuck if I know what should be added (lmk if anything should be tho)

notings: i have no idea what happened, what did I write here, or how did it happen. i mean I know how it happened, all thanks to my dear @sugurouge who came up with an idea I twisted a bit. yeah, first attempts at more dark-ish content that normally, so it will be wonky and bad for sure. if you liked the content, reblog and follow or whatever youtubers say at the end of their vids. peace out ✌️

oh, the way your soft hair shines in the evening light! almost like a crown – no, like a halo! in the end, you’re his goddess. his reason for living, the air he breathes, the very essence of his existence. he’s only alive because he still didn’t make you his – not that he’ll die even after all, no, no. you two are made for a happily ever after, even if he has to force it.

RECA is handsome. you can admit it with full confidence. he’s… weird at times, or maybe eccentric would be more fitting. but aeons, isn’t it attractive! and the way he’s always calling you his darling, it just has no right to make your heart flutter and then stop! he’s such a sweet weirdo, even if some of his behaviors border on insane or perverted. but that’s also hot.

that’s why it’s no wonder he’s taking sneaky photos of your panties when your skirt is too short on purpose. that’s why it’s no wonder RECA set up hidden cameras in your house when you invited him for a coffee break. that’s why it’s no wonder you end up on his lap, riding him on the couch in his expensive apartment, all in front of a camera.

“fuck-! d-darling- too much…” hearing RECA whimper in overstimulation feels like unlocking an achievement. aeons, doesn’t he look heavenly! drooling and sweaty mess, his clothes long discarded as he stares at you with his pretty, dark red eyes. he’s kissing your already purple with marks shoulders, his trembling hands holding your hips in a tight yet shaky grip.

“just one more, reca. one more, for me?” you know you’re pushing his limits, you know he really can’t take more, but aeons! he’s so pretty, so yours, it’s just too tempting to stop now. as you bat your eyelashes so prettily, the look of possessive devotion in your lustful eyes, RECA just can’t say no. he will never even try denying you.

how many orgasms did you pull out of him? he doesn’t remember. all he will remember is the feeling of your warm and inviting walls, squeezing him in all the right places because you were made for him. RECA is sure his debauched, loud, and pathetic whimpers paired with the splashing sounds of skin meeting skin will be recorded all too well; a perfect blackmailing material.

“mmgh-! fuck! reca-!”

you continue your relentless bouncing, hips moving on autopilot at this point; it’s been hours by now for sure and yet you’re still riding his cock with no signs of fatigue. aeons, you really were made to be his. throwing your head back slightly, you let him suck on your nipples, leaving even more bruises and wet kisses on your tits. seeing his dazed, hazy stare, his blissful state, you know you won’t let go of your man ever.

when RECA wanders with his hands all over your body, you hold his head in place. leaning in, you kiss him, the passion and devotion mixing with obsessive adoration. in this heated exchange of saliva, you swallow his sweet sounds, all while his cock starts to twitch and throb faster.

“darling-! aeons!” RECA moans and closes his eyes, feeling his peak approaching. almost literal peak, as his consciousness is slowly slipping away as well. but he manages to still look at you, his pretty, full of adoration and surrender eyes following each bounce of your pretty tits right in front of his face. “let me cum inside, darling-! nngh! want to fill you up, to- fuck! want to mark this pussy as- as-”

he can’t even finish his sentence, his vision getting too blurry to notice your smirk. his head falls heavy on the back of the couch, his chest rising and falling while he still breathes. with his arms now loosely resting on your thighs, RECA simply passes out, exhaustion and emotions taking the better of his body. but that doesn’t stop you, no, no! you make sure his cock is nestled deep inside you as he cums, his release painting your insides white. thankfully, you’re ovulating! it’s just a matter of time to keep him bound to you forever, to never let him go, and to have a little, walking reminder of your shared obsession love!

[main mlist] [hsr mlist] [ko-fi]

[oh-no-its-bird]

I'm having. So many Uchiha Houhua thoughts. Like I know so much of his existence is geared towards survival but. The hc of Uchiha's use of war fans,I have to wonder if he ever finds him half heartedly fiddling with a delicate seeming Tessen, remebering an old friend now far gone, just as razor edged and yet still missed.

And it may be my own fondness for the concept of a spider summons but so much of spider behavior is "Please Leave Me Alone" which is very on brand for Houhua. Camouflage and careful, delicate and yet still so dangerous, setting invisible webs between leaves and waiting for the worse predators to pass. (Also using spider venom to fuck with his heartrate for the possum jutsu maybe?)

The entire concept is so delightful and I'm very thankful to have seen all your little tidbits on it

YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU SENT ME A STRAWPAGE I JUST SAW IT LAST NIGHT BUT FELL ASLEEP BEFORE I COULD COPY PASTE IT TO REPLY TO HERE!!!!!!!!!!!

Omg hi funny seeing you here (<- batting my eyelashes, twirling my hair)

Anyways I love this, actually. Like, a lot.

Ough,, Houhua unable to look at war fans without thinking about both SY and SQQ,,,

I think it's actually especially fun to think ab like. The difference in fighting style between (Japanese) Uchiha styled war fan techniques and (Chinese) Cang Qiong Sect war fan techniques. Not even counting the much more specific Qing Jing Peak style of fan techniques.

That also goes double for sword techniques, especially considering the plans for Houhua to go into sword smithing.

Houhua has literal decades of the Cang Qiong sect sword style engraved into his fucking bones. Into his soul, even, if you consider the whole 'cultivators swords are usually tied to their spirits in some way' thing.

He's going to have the worst time trying to switch to Uchiha sword styles-- though I think the sharingan + the unfamiliar, tiny body without all the muscle memory of his past life will help him at least get his footing

,, Hey, is muscle memory held in the actual muscle or is it held in the brain? That's a thought.

ALSO. THE SPIDERS.

I. I cant lie to u, you are making an amazing argument rn for him having a spider summons. I love the idea sm, I am now faced w the ultimate dilemma of choosing between a spider contract or a rat contract.

On one hand, they both carry undertones of like 'there might be a bit more to see here than just a coward' bc of the associated (mostly negative) connotations of rats and spiders both being like, underhanded, sneaky, that sort of thing. But the spider tho,,, ough,, it also shows a side of implied manipulation that might be fun just from the angle of like.

Yeah you'd expect him to have some sort of rodent contract but hes actually been designated spider coded by the universe, actually.

I forget if I posted this snippet yet or if I only posted it on the discord but take this really quick:

So like. This moment, where Kabuto bets Houhua will get some form of rodent contract (for obvious reasons) while Hana bets he gets a fucking worm. But now make it even funnier bc they're both wrong and he got a spider contract.

This could also maybe play interesting into Houhua and Kabuto's sort of ongoing quiet squinting in eachothers direction as they both go 'this guy isnt as simple as he seems...' as Kabuto mentally recalculates some of Houhua's behavior

This also can just bring out a pretty fun "hey so lets talk about in universe stereotypes and associations when it comes to summoning animals" which I just think is fun. Like, culturally, what does it mean to have a contracted animal? Do some people treat it like they might astrology personality tests? Do some people think its just nonsense and pure luck or not that deep?

For some people it probably isn't that deep, while for others (specifically those who might come from families who always have the same contract, or others who sign blank contracts where they really are sent to an animal that matches them best) it really is a good way to try and analyze them

And like. Where does that leave Houhua?

This could also just be fun for when he interacts w Orochimaru, who fucking hates bugs (insert my own personal favorite hc here that he hates them largely in part due to the many times he was stuck inside his own rotting body, infested with bugs)

And like, Houhua and Orochimaru will inevitably interact, though I'm not 100% sure on how it goes just yet. But like. Houhua having a spider contract and Orochimaru coincidentally hating spiders. Could be funny.

PLUS YOU'RE SO RIGHT FOR LIKE. SPIDER VENOM POSSIBLY PLAYING INTO HIS PLAYING DEAD ACT. UR SO SMART FOR THAT.

Anyways. Yeah ok I think spider contract Houhua would go pretty hard for multiple reasons. Give him a big fluffy spider with big ol eyes.

Houhua can maybe get another contract further down the line and then get the rodents he deserves.

Im so glad that you've been enjoying the SQH in naruto au nonsense I've been pumping out!! I'm like. Halfwayish done with chapter one but it keeps getting longer. I'll get there eventually.

I really need to update my tumblr vault with all the recent additions to the au but want to update it when I post the actual fic so I can link the fic to the chapter, so I'm holding off on that

Anyways, thank you for your ask!!

[buzz-in-your-veins]

angel dust x insecure transmasc reader smut?

Hi!

Thank you for your ask! I hope I gave it justice!

-if it’s not what you were looking for exactly feel free to leave another ask with more details! It’ll be fun to do it again.-

Perfect Boy<3

Let your boyfriend soothe you.

Then work you up.

CW: Mean Thoughts, PinV, Smut, Oral(reader reviving), clit called cock.

You had been dating Angel for a few months now, and you loved it.

Angel is everything a boyfriend should be. He’s kind, give you flowers, takes you out, and takes you apart so sweetly, always calling you his darling boy as he pushes you higher and higher.

But…

Angel is constantly worried about Valentino seeing you.

It’s sweet. Really it is..

Angel just wants to protect you, keep you safe and secure.

You were always an over-thinker. And this time is no different.

“Sorry, baby boy, not tonight.”

You were barely holding on, and that sent you spiralling.

‘Am I not good enough?’

You smiled softly and told him you understand, and waved him off as he walked out, before you ran to your shared room.

You changed into Angels hoodie, and laid down in bed, trying desperately to ignore the thoughts of not being man enough for your gay boyfriend.

You weren’t entirely successful.

Tears started falling down your face as you were bombarded with thoughts of Angel leaving you for someone else, not being satisfied with you.

When Angel finished his shift, that was how he found you. Curled up in his hoodie, Fat Nuggets cuddled into your chest as you hiccuped on sobs, cheeks wet with tears.

It wasn’t rare for Angel to find you this way, but it still broke his heart everytime.

Carefully climbing onto the bed, Angel took you into his arms whilst trying not to move Fat Nuggets, and hummed to you.

When the hiccups and sobs died down, Angel picked Fat Nuggets up and set him down on the bottom of the bed, before picking you up and cuddling you into his chest.

“Hi Baby, is your head all noisy?”

You nodded wetly against his chest.

“Can you ask it to stop being nasty to my darling boy?”

Angel felt renewed wetness against his chest.

“Honey? What’s wrong? Talk to me handsome?”

You mumbled all the thoughts that had been plauging you, and Angel felt his heart break as you told him you weren’t ‘man’ enough for him to want to stay.

Angel pulled you away from his chest to look in your eyes.

“Sh sh, listen, listen to me okay Mister?”

Angel waited for you to nod before continuing.

“You are all the man I need. Every part of you is perfect. From your fluffy manly hair,” Angel kisses your head. “To these manly feet,” Angel pauses to tickle your toes getting you to giggle, “And every part in between. This handsome body, these toned manly legs, this pretty boyish face, even these adorable manly eyelashes. Every part of you is completely manly and perfect. I love everything about you, even your smelly farts.”

Angel smiled as you giggled again. He noticed Fat Nuggets had snuck out the doggy door, probably going to bug Husk.

“And you know what my favourite part is, Prince? This beautiful masculine smile you have, so don’t cry handsome, my perfect boy has no reason to.”

You’d stopped crying in the middle of his speech, and now your emotions were slipping south.

Angel of course, noticed.

“You know what else I love?”

Angel began to lift his sweater, hands caressing your top surgery scars.

“These marks of your bravery. How pretty your little pecs are, the muscle in your chest, your handsome nipples.”

Your breath hitched as Angels top hands slowly pulled the sweater of, and his lower pair skimmed back and fouth over your nipples, body jolting as he quickly changed tactics to pinch and tug on them, revelling in the pretty sounds he was pulling from you.

“This manly sthomac, allll the way down tho this handsome happy trail.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as Angel began working your pants off, still playing with your nipples.

Pants finally off, Angel continued.

“I wonder where it leads.”

You jolted as his lower hands slowly dragged around your clit.

“This pretty little cock, look how responsive it is.”

You moan and whine, body spasming as Angel played relentlessly with your cock, never letting up his administration, or stopping his words.

“Look at my Princes cock, how perfect it is to play with.”

You screamed as you came on his hand, Angel changing his rythm, gently grinding you through your orgasm.

“Fuck baby, shit.”

Angels voice was low and raspy, and you felt the spiders cock poking you as Angel moved you off his chest and laid you down, before sinking down the bed.

“Lemme taste my prince.”

That was all the warning you got before Angels tounge meet your cock, lapping at the folds around it and coaxing more sounds from you, a few times his tounge dipped inside you, but the majority focus went on your cock, podding and probing the sensitive bundle.

Your back arched as you came with a second scream.

Angel lapped hungrily at the juice that flowed from you.

Before slowing working how way back up your body, trailing kisses over his ‘perfect boy’ as he went.

“Good boy, pretty boy.”

You whined, drunk on the double orgasm and freeing feeling your boyfriend always provided.

Angel slowly pumped his two fingers in your swollen hole, thumb gently grazing your cock, drawing needy whines and pleas from you, before Angel dragged your lips into a soft kiss and pushed his heavy cock into your hole, mumbling how perfect you were against you lips.

You yowled as Angel slammed his cock in fully, eyes rolling back.

Angel repeated the movement, enjoying the noise you were making.

It didn’t take long for Angel to cum, already worked up from the earlier activity’s, and he shoved his cock as far as he could, pushing against your cervix as he did.

At the first pulse of hot cum, your eyes rolled back and you howled as you squirted over Angels cock, blacking out.

When you came too, Angel had cleaned you up and was making the bed. He noticed you were awake.

“Listen, Handsome, you are more than man enough in every way. I love you for all of you, not just some parts. I will always love all of you.”

Your thoughts were soothed as you heard the sincerity in his voice, for now at least.

Angel picked you up and laid you down on his chest in the freshly made bed.

“Sleep now prince, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You feel asleep to the sounds of his breathing, and dreamt of a pretty blond boy with hetrochromia.

Feedback is always appreciated.

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

I hope you like this and it lived up to your expectations!

~Vyrus

[sludgewolf]

Hiii! I was wondering if I can request hazard dating hcs with a short fem!reader who likes feminine things and likes to dress in pink attire? Please and thank u 😽😽

That's such a cute idea, so sk8r boy vibes ;-; btw love your pfp, he would Disclaimer: do not copy, repost, take or feed to AI or NFTs anything I post Masterlist

He was a punk and she did ballet - Hazard x Reader

He's such a softie for you, despite his size Haz is puddy on your hands, all you need to do is bat your eyelashes at his direction that you've got whatever you want

even when you don't ask, Findley will still surprises you with plushies or fresh flowers almost every week just to see the look on your face

Your designated driver, you'll never have to drive when with him

gives you full control over the AC and radio

just don't push your luck with pop, country or funk cuz he will revoke your radio privileges if you play bad songs

Likes to pick you up and have you on his lap when busy or simply when he's stuck sitting somewhere, be it for major repairs on his prostetics or getting new tattoos

or like that time he was waiting for Susie to finish engraving some of the flowers you doodled on his shotgun arm

when he can't have on his lap Haz sits you on a counter by his side as he goes about his business

you in turn constantly drag him over by his spikes in order to steal kisses that leave him chasing your lips

Absolutelly loves pink too, one of his favorite colors bc of how bold it is, besides he thinks its cute how your pinks matches well with his purples

and he isn't about to let society dictate what colors he should or should not like bc of smt so arbritrary as gender

You once covered his right arm in sanrio and winx club stickers while he was asleep, Find then refused to take them off no matter what

he was so sad when they fell off during a fight that he picked back up those he could find and glued them on your shared room door

Findlay has the habit of putting things away on the tallest shelves since it just is more convenient for him

but even if not on purpose he does love to watch as you struggle to reach for things just for not five minutes later to have you pouting at his side asking for help

which he ofc does, though he has the smuggest look on his face as he does

A sucker for headpats!!

Will sit down in front of you hoping you get the hint and play w his hair

you're forbitten from keeping them from him tho, you must meet the daily headpat quota or he'll sulk for the rest of the day

Asks for your help with makeup, and expecially his eyeliner before taking you out on dates, he has to look good for you

he is one of those guys that actually knows how to properly put on lipbalm (so proud of him)

Regularly calls you Short Stack and will lean his elbow on your head as he pretends to look for you

Gets so flustered when you compliment him, using cute pet names and softly holding his face

full on stuttering and flushing tomato red, you weaponize it after he teases you for your height

Haz leaves his shirts lying around the room so you may steal them without knowing it was actually his plan all along

you wearing them is his favorite sight in the morning

which goes along perfectly with the lazy mornings you spend together, when he won't let you out of bed demanding some more cuddle time w his love

If you liked this pls reblog and comment so I know to write more like it reblogs >>> likes

[miioouu]

Hehhe🥴💕

Ghost with temperature play tho🥴💕(i think its temp play or kink but whateves its the same thing, i think??)

This request reminds me of the time when I used to write anime smut and I'm here for it!!! Also after some thorough research ;) I have concluded that yes, temp play and kink are the same. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, thank you for blessing us with your unholy thoughts bbg!

Tw: smut, temperature play, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial, fem reader

The room was hot, sweat drops running down your spine and your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your body was blazing, scorching even…

The chuckle coming from between your thighs didn’t help the situation either. His warm eyes looking up at you through his long eyelashes. “What is it, love? Are you feeling hot?” He’s mocking you, for sure. And you wonder why he even bothers asking you this question, Simon would never let you talk back. In fact, he likes your silence, maybe that’s why he has his glove shoved deeply into your mouth, your drool coating it, dripping down your chin.

The room was hot, like a sauna, honestly what did you expect when your latest mission is right in the middle of the desert. Luckily though, your captain isn’t cruel enough to let you die from a heat stroke, the place he rented for you has perfect air conditioning. But your lieutenant on the other hand, he’s nasty and dirty. “Turn on the AC? We’re in the military sergeant, you should be able to handle heat” And that’s true, and you usually were perfectly fine sweating in the dry sandy air, but usually he wouldn’t have his tongue swiping at your slit, sliding between your folds to have a taste of your arousal. Usually, you wouldn’t have to hold your breath, be scared of letting out a sound, afraid that your comrades next door would hear. He took pity on you, the moments your eyes flutter, your fingers grasped his, gosh you’ve always been so beautiful to him, but something about seeing you almost slip out of conscience as you body sticks to the sheets with perspiration has really got him thinking of you as a the most beautiful angel that has ever graced the surface of the earth. “Ah, relax… I know a way to cool you down, love” He’d murmur against your soft thigh before straightening up. His hand quickly found the mini fridge, a smirk adorned his face when he saw the tray of ice cubes, that’ll definitely cool you down. He slipped one between his lips, letting it melt on the tip of his tongue slightly before going back to the place where he belonged; between your legs.

The ice cube, now a little smaller, falls from his mouth, placing it right above your bundle of nerves. The contrast between your hot body and the glacial crystal has you arching your back and a whimper of his name choked itself out from between your lips. This reaction earned you a chuckle from the man above you, his eyes shining in mischief, trying but failing to feign innocence as he kisses your inner thighs, slowly, coldly, making his way to your drenching core. Tongue still frozen, he swiped it between your folds, tasting you had him humming out loud. “You always taste so good, love.” His compliment is mumbled against your skin as he’s still sloppily making out with your heat. He sucks on your clit, the tip of his tongue draws languid circles, making sure to always add a little more pressure to that place that would usually have you hiccuping for air. His lashes flutter shut, enjoying your arousal a little too much, his nails dig in the soft flesh of your thighs. Enjoying you a little too much, his hips grind against the mattress below him. Enjoying the way you tremble and shake beneath him, not even his glove can restrain your whines for more, he can almost hear your voice in his head “More sir! Please, please, I need more, more than just your tongue” The memory has him moaning, the vibration of it making your toes curl.Oh you were so close, and he knew it.

The ice cube now long melted, the cold water running down your thighs, spilling on the sheets and whenever your skin ever so grazes the drops, it sends electricity through your body. “Still hot, hmm?” Simon teases, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance as he sees the desperation in your teary eyes. He pulls away for a minute, finding the tray again, and it isn't Ghost if he gives you warnings, right? Where's the fun in that? With that he dumps the rest of the ice cubes onto your stomach, relishing in the way you quiver and squirm, a proud smile drawn on his face.

Quickly, his hands still cold, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, he hovers above you, face mere inches away from yours “What? Are you feeling cold now, sergeant? Don't worry, I've also got a way to deal with this too…”

[v3nusstardust]

💋”Kiss me”💋

Pairing : Kim Sunoo x you🤍

Genre : Fluff!:3 .. lowkey gets heated at the end tho idk what to call this🗿

Summary : Though it’s been 2 months since you started dating Sunoo, he still has a massive crush on you. All y’all ever did was hold hands, small pecks on the lips & cheeks and sometimes lean on each others shoulders. Even those things were enough to make Sunoo a blushing mess.

It was Sunoo's day off, and he surprised you by showing up at your apartment in the cutest pajamas.

You loved your boyfriend so much, he was so pure and sweet. You greeted him at the door with a hug, “sunoo! You didn’t tell me you were coming!” You exclaimed, wrapped in his embrace. “I missed you.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead, earning a giggle from you. You noticed Sunoo carrying a bag of groceries. “What did you bring?” You asked, peering into the grocery bags. “Oh I brought Mint chocolate chip Ice cream and some of your favorites.” He responded. “Wanna watch some movies?” you suggested. Sunoo nodded in agreement and followed you to your room.

You chatted with your boyfriend in your room and caught up on small things that happened recently. You both sat on your bed away from each other.

To be honest, your boyfriend made you so shy. He was so pretty and perfect and you felt like you were just.. plain. Little did you know, Sunoo felt the same way. You made him so bubbly inside, he never felt that way before, so he didn’t really know how to handle the overwhelming emotions he felt around you.

“What should we watch?” You asked, scrolling through movies. “You pick.” Sunoo replied. “Pick one! I’m indecisive” you giggled. “Okay fine. Horror movie?” He suggested, a mischievous grin on his face. “YES!” You exclaimed excitedly. You scrolled through all the available movies and picked your favorite horror movie.

As the movie started, you and Sunoo maintained a comfortable distance from each other. Sunoo's reassuring presence was everything, but you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship would eventually embrace more physical closeness. His limited free time as an idol added an air of uncertainty, making you ponder the possibility of cuddling or ever being close.

During the movie, a surge of boldness came over you. You knew Sunoo wouldn’t make the first move, plus he looked a little too interested in the movie. Slowly inching closer, you delicately rested your head on his shoulder. “I miss you.” You whispered. Sunoo’s attention went from the movie and onto you. “I missed you too y/n.” His fingers intertwined with yours, tracing soothing circles on your knuckles. “Can I have a kiss?” You asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. Sunoo met your gaze, responding with a swift, sweet peck on the lips. “I want another one.” You laughed shyly. A small giggle escape Sunoo’s lips. He kissed you again, but this time you cradled the back of his head, running your fingers through the softness of his hair.

He pulled away, leaving you with a small pout. You felt needy for more. His face was flushed bright pink.

“I’m… gonna go get your snacks. I’ll be back.” He said hastily before leaving your room.

You sighed as he left. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss you yet? Maybe he wanted to take everything slow and your sudden move scared him.

When he came back, he came back with two bowls of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He sat next to you, handing you the bowl of ice cream and your snacks. You resumed to the movie with your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t focus because your overthinking was bothering you.

In a soft, hushed tone, you asked Sunoo, "Do you love me?" His response came with a reassuring certainty, "Yes, of course I do y/n."

“Do you like kissing me?” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for him to hear. “Of course I do. Why?” Concern flickered in his eyes as he replied. “You left so abruptly earlier. I just wanted our kiss to linger a bit longer than usual. I'm sorry; I just felt a bit needy." you apologized. “No no, I’m sorry. I was afraid of messing up. You're an amazing kisser, trust me. I had to leave because... because you were making me feel .. flustered," he admitted, attempting to look away from you. The confession hung in the air, deepening the connection between you.

You carefully placed your index finger on his chin, making him look you in the eyes. The atmosphere was warm and charged with undeniable tension, hinting at the unspoken desires in the air. You inched your face closer and closer to his. You ran your thumb along his lips, Sunoo was a cute blushing mess.

“Kiss me.” Sunoo shyly mumbled. Your lips met his in a tender embrace. His hands found their way to your waist. You changed your position from sitting next to him to straddling his lap. You threw your arms over his neck, kissing him passionately. His hands were shaking, it was the cutest thing ever. He had one hand on your waist and one gently tangled in your hair. A soft whimper escaped Sunoo’s lips “I love you.”

Before you could reply, his lips slowly started to travel down to your neck. You moaned at the feeling.

“Up, put your hands up for me.” He demanded in a seductive tone, tugging onto your shirt.

You pulled away, your eyes widened in astonishment, your features betraying a surprised expression. Your face was bright red. Sunoo’s eyes were full of lust, but quickly he turned embarrassed once he saw your expression. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask first.” He put his hands in his face, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. “It’s okay..” you placed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I never heard you talk like that.. it took me by surprise. I didn’t say I didn’t like it though.” You chuckled. He swiftly reclaimed your lips, continuing where you left off.

(A/N : omw to my soccer tournament rn and I have to take a pre-game fat shit 🗿if there’s hella mistakes it’s Cus I’m running off a bag of Takis w no water 🗣️.. SOMEONE PLEASE SEND LACTAID PILLS.. lmk if u fw this though bcs I’ve never wrote shit like this bro😝)

[manwiththemagic]

spn s1 ep3 "Dead in the water"

more rewatch notes/commentary I have while watching!! :9

Ew Wisconsin okay...

“guys don't like buff girls.” WHO ASKED?? dumbahh person of the week. I don't even REMEMBER this episode and honestly, I blame you pal. I. Blame. You.

“be careful.” Okay so she's going to die then.

I wish I lived on a lake :(((

HELP THE SLOWMO... uhhh rip girl?? Ig..

Why does Dean look actually insane. He has like 100 newspapers, and his scribbling out faces and circling others 😭😭 i'd call the cops tbh..

Episode three, and second chick we see hitting on dean. It's just bc of his long eyelashes I bet.

LMAO “can I... get you anything else? 😏” “just the check please ☺️” LOVE YOU SAM.

The way dean immediately gives up trying to convince Sam about hookups bc lil bro is still distraught about jess. Like yeah... no way is a hookup gonna seem "fun" to a grieving man

The side eye Sam gives dean when he's telling him about how the people had a funeral for a missing person.

“a funeral?” “yeah for closure or whatever” “closure? What closure. People don't just disappear Dean, others just stop looking for them.” WOAH NELLY... I get it. Bro wants to find dad, dad to find monster, monster to be KKKKKKKKKILLED‼️

vaild.

Okay so Sam is tweaking because he wants to find John, and Dean is— NO WAY HE JUST SAID THAT. “im sick of the attitude.” DAD DEAN CHAT!! also no way he pulled the "I've been with him everyday for the past two years while you were off at school—" BRO.

Great more depressed. old. MEN.

does the loch ness monster exist?

Oh shoot broke dam!! More like... Dam I'm BROKE!!

Dean being good with kids part 1!! Also this is why I have a hard time believing he's so bad with Jack like... LOOK ST THIS.

Dean and his 3 woman in three episodes.

“must be hard with your sense of direction.. trying to find your way to a decent pickup line.” HEYOOOOO!! she ate that.

“‘i love kids’?? You don't even like kids.” “yes I do!” “name 3 kids that you even know.” LMAO NOT SAM GATEKEEPING KIDS LIKE ITS AN INDIE BAND!!! also yes he likes kids, he literally raised you Sam wtfdym?

Wait so late monsters do exist?? THE LOCH NESS IS CANON?? just not here..? Damn I thought since bigfoot was fake that would be too.

I'm pretty sure it's some ghost chick.

Yikes more dead...

“no wonder that kid was so freaked out, watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over..” DEAN :((( I always forget he watched Mary die, cause like Sam too, he just doesn't remember it.

Dean is so good with kids :(((

STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE.

“when I was your age I saw something... anyways..” FUCK.

DWAHHH LUCAS TAKING THE PICTURE DEAN DREW ☹️

AWH HE GAVE DEAN A PICTURE!! they made a connection.

Oh shoot.. that man is so dead. “im gonna make some dinner”

OH SHIT ITS IN THE PIPES

your dead kid. D E A D. IDC tho you ain't Lucas

Ew don't dig in the dirty water. HOLY SHIT HE DROWBING. HE DROWBNIN

Damn.. and in dirty water. I could never.

Bill Carlton is cooked. Literally everyone he knows is dead now.. like damn. Wtf did he DO.

“my children are gone..its worse than dying..” MORE SAD OLD MEN OMFG.

Lucas drawing is important!!

Why don't these people ever be like “yea.. serial killer man..” LIKE A BELIEVABLE BUT STILL CRAZY LIE. "Why the FBI here?" "Serial killer." ITS THAT EASY.

Dean getting help from a kid AHHHHHHHH!!

“your... scared..? I understand.. you see when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too.. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see my mom.. I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day.” FUCK. JUST TEAR AT MY HEART STRINGS THEN DEAN. “and I do my best to be brave.. and maybe your dad wants you to be brave too.”

LUCAS YOU THE GOAT!!!

so now they are looking for the house Lucas drew and Dean like "man where tf is it?" And Sam's like "uh.. maybe let's look for the church?"

“ohhh collage boy thinks he's so smart!!” Dean the goat of this episode

Sam twitching because he doesn't know if or how he should bring up deans speech. Honestly now that I think about it Sam digs into deans personal stuff alot, mostly because Dean is jaded and hides stuff but IDK it's interesting.

“oh God we're not gonna have to hug or anything are we?” like you wouldn't enjoy that..

The churchhhhh

OMG THE BIKE. IT WAS BIG IN A DIFF DRAWING AND HERE IT IS AGAIN. omg wait it is important.

He's missing.. the kid with the bike.

HOLY COW. all the parents talking about how losing a kid is worse than death, and hey I know what canonically happens in death and uhh, idk if your right about that. Hell? eck.. ghost life?? yikes.. heaven? good but.. mehh...

Rip lil kid. Rip

HE KNEW BILLY. holy cow. Dead kid knew billy. Billy Carlton knows something is going on?? WAIT WHATS HAPOENING.

So wait is the dead kid the ghost..?

HOLY COW THAT BOAT FLEWWWW!!

Lucas having another vision??.. OH SHIT YEA THE GHOST GIES AFTER HIS MOM OR SMTH RIGHT??

THIRD TIME GETTING CAUGHT LMAOOO. “and your not really wildlife service..” HELP.

this cop made sus. Why you so mad these guys are investigating a murder?? They weird but like..

LUCAS KNOWSSSS..

This is kinda like a call forward or uhh foreshadowing to Sam's visions, which is kinda dope

LADY DON'T TAKE THAT BATH. NOT JUST CAUSE I DONT WANNA SEE YOU NAKED..

deans going back to town even after being threaten because lil kid was scared. GOAT. the goat I tell you.

“who are you and what have you done with my brother??” it's really not out of character for him Sam😭

DON'T TAKE THAT BATH LADY. YOUR DEAD. DOOMED.

oh whatever. I give up. EW MURKY WATER. CAN'T YOU FEEL IT LADY.

poor lucas.. lil bro bouta become an orphan.

LMAO DEAN THREW LUCAS OUTTA THE WAY. and Sam actually saved her 🤷

So wtf is after them. I DON'T REMEMBER.

Oh shoot puppy dog eyes Sam is back. “tell me what happened. Everything. 🥺”

More Lucas visions..

THEY FOUND THE BODY. or no? THE BIKE.

THE SHERIFF DID WHAT NOW.

No dead ghost Peter LEAVE LUCAS ALONEE!!

oh shit he did kill someone.

OH SHIT.

YOU WERE A BULLY?? EE. I HATE YOU. YOU KULLED HOM?? WTF.

dude no your daughter should stay away from you you freak.

LUCAS IS DROWNING.

Mermaid Dean 🧜

Sacrifice yourself for Lucas? Valid sheriff. Valid.

WOOO ITS OVERRRR!! MYSTERY SSSSOLVED!!

AW LUCAS IS TALKING AGAINNN!!

Dean teaching random kid his morals and tastes in music LMAO.

dean pulls yet NAOTHER woman. Are you fr?

One of my least favorite episodes tbh..

[valentinehorrors]

Drawn to you like you're drawn to me

(TW: Mikey POV, dude's kinda fucked up ngl, mental torture, just a sprinkle tho)

He could smell it, both literally and figuratively. It was absolutely thrilling, seeing Casey so shaky and paranoid. He could hear the cracks in the human's sanity, and could see the fear every time he realized he was being watched.

Mikey will admit, he thought Casey would question him more about his... more interesting abilities. But despite his sanity holding by a thread, the human was still not pushing, allowing Mikey to explain at his own pace, reveal at his own pace.

It was adorable.

God how he wanted to devour him whole.

If he didn't heal quicker than most, his tongue would be severely scarred by now. His own blood was meant to be a deterrent from his bestial thoughts and instincts but it was having less and less of an effect. And one human is to blame, good thing Mikey is very in control of his darker side.

...

He was hungry, he hadn't been able to hunt for a while. With the Kraang invasion looming over their heads, stress was high, his absence would've been noticeable. At least for his and his human's late night talks, he had an alibi. Casey would say whatever he wanted him to say after all.

Yes, Casey wouldn't even question it, just say whatever Mikey wants him to say. His obedient human, so precious, so stupid and all his.

He was so hungry, good thing he had impeccable control. He'll probably sneak out to eat a rat or two, but it's fine, he has it under control, it's fine.

He really did not like April.

She was annoying, and he didn't know her well enough to cast out his strings. At least she was fuel for strengthening Donnie's strings, that was the only thing she was good for.

And she was a brat. Her complaining almost made him want to break his mask just to shut her up.

And he hated how friendly she was with Casey. How she smiled at him, batted her eyelashes and flirted. At least Casey was very clearly joking, that gave him peace of mind. And when he admitted this, Casey even offered to stop it completely, how adorable. Casey cared so much for Mikey, yes he feared him, but there was care as well. Genuine care, not a joke, not just some game, genuine care.

He didn't like April. She shows interest in Donnie and in the same breath acts disgusted of him. She treats him like a toy. Using him like the entitled brat she is. Stringing him along with hope then leaving him out to dry.

And she wasn't too different with Casey, at least Casey didn't actually have those feelings, so he took all of it as a joke. But with Donnie, he was crushed and hurt every time.

He hated April. How dare she lay there, peacefully sleeping in their lair? Laid against a passed out Donnie, leading him on like she always does. Donnie for all his smarts is so very weak, all she has to do is bat her eyelashes, give him a kiss and he forgets it all the same.

Fucking brat.

He hated her.

It would be so easy, she slept over so often. Getting rid of her would be so easy. He wouldn't even eat her, he just wanted her gone. She didn't deserve the space in his stomach, she'd probably be disgusting anyway.

Michelangelo blacked out.

That hadn't happened in a while. Actually, it hadn't happened since he first ate a human.

It happened just like last time, he blinked and he was gone. Mikey found himself in a dark void, a twisted dark version of the dojo's tree stood high and large in the distance. The turtle himself was stood on an ocean of inky black that stretched on for eternity.

The second he saw the scenery, he knew what it meant.

"Fuck..."

Thankfully, he's not there long as the inky black thick waters dragged him back down underneath their depths.

When he came to, Casey was holding his wrist with one hand, the other was wrapped around the turtle, pulling him tight against the human. Said human was trembling, and that smell of fear...

Ah, that's what brought him back, that wonderful smell. He didn't even realize he was holding his kusarigama until he dropped it, Casey letting out a sigh of relief as he did.

There was only a beat after the sigh of silence before both human and turtle whispered to the other "we need to go." The sound of Mikey's kusarigama falling to the ground, caused Donnie to stir. They only heard a slight grunt from him before they were suddenly enveloped by the very shadows swimming beneath them.

The feeling was not unfamiliar for Mikey, he had used this ability before while both experimenting as well as hunting. But he'd never brought company before.

Shadow stepping is what Annabeth had called it once. The art of using shadows for transport, the shadows felt comfortable to him. Having his form enveloped and dragged through shadows never bothered him. Clearly, this was different for the human who was shaking horribly once they appeared on their usual rooftop.

Mikey immediately leapt into covering their tracks, digging into Casey's pocket and finding his phone. He then took out his own phone as he called himself from Casey's phone, answering the call and then hanging up. While doing this, the human hadn't let go of the turtle.

Once the explanation was set, Mikey's focus shifted back to his human who seemed deeply disturbed, and much colder than before, both explained his shaking. Hell, it looked like if Casey did let go he wouldn't be able to stand. The turtle wrapped his arms securely around his human.

"I have you..." He whispered, slowly lowering them so they were sitting on the rooftop, Casey needed some guiding as he struggled to move. "It's okay... You're okay... I'd never hurt you..."

He felt Casey's shaking breaths against his neck, the human was almost as cold as his brothers. Mikey's hand softly pet Casey's head, fingers running through his hair as he held his precious human.

"It might be dangerous if you're cold for too long Case..." Mikey said as he thought about getting Casey to his room. They were quite a ways, he could try carrying him but the human had quite the tight hold on him. Shadow stepping would take less than a second, especially considering Mikey was familiar with Casey's room.

Casey tried to talk, the turtle could feel him trying to move his mouth, but he was trembling so much that only whimpers left his throat. And the sound had Mikey feeling a variety of emotions, but it also led him to make his choice.

"Casey, can you nod your head?" It took a second, but Casey shakily managed to. "Okay. You need to get warm, and as much as I want to be the one to help you, I am aware that I can't. You need blankets and your room. What I just accidentally did is called shadow stepping. It'll only last a second and it'll get us to your room quick, are you ready?" Mikey explained fast and clearly.

Casey seemed to be thinking it over before he nodded. "Alright...three..."

The shadows around them became darker, more solid.

"...two..."

The darkness started to slowly flow up both of their bodies, rising like water, Casey shivered again, another whimper coming from him.

"Three."

And once again they were enveloped into the dark nothingness of shadows. In the blink of an eye, they were in Casey's room, Casey was shaking violently but was picked up effortlessly by the mutant(?)

The human was laid in bed but struggled to let go of his turtle. Mikey paused, first he took off his mask, letting it hang around his neck. He doesn't need it to drop his mask, but its visual significance is something he knows Casey appreciates.

"Casey, I need you to let go so you can properly get warm."

He shook his head. Mikey couldn't help the small genuine smile that took over his lips.

"Casey."

He shook his head again, his arms trying to pull him closer.

"Casey, you can barely move on your own, I need to cover you in blankets." He didn't stop the slight warmth that tinted his monotone voice from being known.

Casey just hugged him tighter.

Mikey just sighed and laid down with Casey, holding him as he tried to at least semi get a blanket on Casey. "I'm too cold for you Casey."

Casey shook his head again.

The turtle gave in and just held him. At least they were no longer outside, and Casey's room was warmer than outside.

Then again, Mikey was unnaturally cold.

Hm.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, Mikey just feeling Casey's trembling slowly start to die down.

"Casey, not that I don't enjoy this, but maybe you would warm up faster without me."

"M-M-M-Mike..."

"Yes?"

"Sh-Shut the f-f-fuck up..."

Mikey's smile grew "Giving me attitude now?"

Casey flinched and looked up at Mikey.

Oh...

Now that was utterly precious. Casey's eyes were pools of horror. He was absolutely terrified, Mikey could practically see the thread of sanity in those gorgeous eyes. How it hung so precariously.

How Mikey wished he could reach in and cut it, witness as the human broke. He wanted to be the one to cause it, to see it.

Casey truly was his favorite plaything.

"P-Please..." Casey's voice was so small and vulnerable, it was music to his ears.

"What are you asking for?" He could see his own glowing eyes in the reflection of Casey's. He wasn't even hiding the unnatural icy glow, the white slits dilated like a cat observing its favorite toy.

"D-Don't... hurt her..."

Oh, Mikey had almost forgotten what had gotten them into this situation in the first place. It caused an involuntary laugh to come from him. Such a silly situation, and a silly notion, he'd never truly lose control like that. Yes, he did not like that human brat girl, but he would never risk his mask in such a ridiculous way.

He saw the confusion in Casey's eyes as he laughed. Adorable.

"Oh Casey... I'm so sorry you had to see that... I'm afraid it's the unfortunate side effect that happens when I'm hungry."

"Y-You're hungry...?" The fear was still there, but it lowered to the usual fear, though he still trembled from the cold.

"Yes." He had no doubt it was unsettling how he said this while brushing his hair out of his face, smile not leaving his face. "But don't worry, I have a hold on it."

"Yeah, c-cuz you almost k-killing my friend is, a h-hold on it..."

"I," He suddenly got closer to Casey's face, and he reveled at how the human flinched back, "just need to eat, and I'll be fine. But I appreciate how you worry for me." He knew that's not why Casey was worried, at least not mostly.

"But... w-why have ya not?" That curiosity that mixes with the human's fear appears. Mikey's pretty sure that it's part of the reason Casey stuck around, at least initially.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, Jones. But we are dealing with an impending alien invasion for the second time now. My brothers, especially Donnie, are on high alert. Missing people bring alarm and even if I had you as my alibi, there's still a chance you would be found without me. Plus our T-phones are trackable, so even if the missing people weren't a problem, I'd have to bring you with me to ensure the alibi stands."

There was a pause as Casey processed the infodump. "But M-My phone ain't a T-T-phone."

"Casey dear, do you really think Donnie wouldn't be able to track your phone?"

Even through his fear, the blush that crept into Casey's cheeks was noticeable. "Kay... You got a p-point... So, how ya g-gonna eat? If you c-can't eat like usual..."

Mikey hummed as he idly played with Casey's hair, removing his bandanna from his head. "That is the question... Before we went to the surface I used to eat rats, maybe I'll just have a few of those... Maybe a cat... maybe some dogs... It's a pity too. I don't feel a lot often, but I admit I feel bad eating those poor creatures..."

Casey snorted, "You feel bad for stray dogs and cats but not for literal humans?"

"Of course not, many humans are absolute monsters, even worse than me. You don't count of course~" He practically cooed as he cupped Casey's cheek, feeling the soft skin, he was getting warmer, that was good.

"Not gonna lie, you're k-kinda right on that... p-people can suck ass..." There was a question in mind he wasn't voicing, he could see it bouncing around from behind those dark orbs.

He was avoiding his eyes now, he wanted to EAT HIM AND WATCH HIM CRY.

"Casey~" Mikey held the human's chin and made him look at him, "You know better than anyone I can tell when you have questions."

"You're... right..." Casey shivered as he looked Mikey in the eye. "Okay... Imma be honest Mike... I need to ask this...."

Casey took one more deep breath as he finally asked the question that's been on his mind since he witnessed the turtle tear apart and eat several thugs in front of him.

"What are you?"

And the demon in Mikey's head chuckled.

"Good luck." Annabeth sneered.

[gollumsmygel]

sometimes thinking bout how Hansuke wonders what would life be if her grandfather didn't go to jail and he's still the lord of the family.

would he put her in an arranged marriage? with someone with a fire quirk? someone who has political power? someone who is wealthy?

she's thinking what would she do if put into that scenario.

sometimes she thinks about what if she had the same mindset as her grandfather, marrying and bearing kids with people who have quirks that can make their fire quirk stronger. she blames Kirishima and Kaminari for the thought.

thinking about that how she's never bat an eyelash at Todoroki, never blushed and never giggled about how good looking he is. Tho she didn't really have an idea he's Endeavor's kid until she connected his glare and when the hero showed up at the sports festival. She thinks he's good looking, she just isn't interested with romance.

Finds it absolutely hilarious that her friends think something is going on between her and Haruo.

[our-gentle-tide]

If that's okay could i request the demon brothers watching encanto? They would all relate to the characters in someway!

(bonus if when surface pressure comes on MC looks at Mammon and Lucifer and goes, this you?)

The brothers reacting to encanto

Warning: none?

A/n: I'm so sorry this took so long :') the mid-terms were a pain in my ass tbh, I didn't do too good tbh so I'm going back to studying so I can prepare myself. I'm also thinking of changing my writing style, On the bright side my kitten will be coming home tomorrow!! I'm naming them Milo :)

Also I didn't put levi in cos I didn't know what to write, sorry love 😅

Reader: gn (they/them)

Lucifer:

A movie about a family? Okay he thinks it's fine

..he changed his mind- MC what exactly are you implying here???

When luisa sings her song, he sees you staring at him in the corner of his eye-

When the movie ends he is silent for a hot minute but started to speak after a bit

His pride won't let him react too much so don't get your hopes up darling

"What do you mean I act like abuela alma but worse? Of course I don't satan, stop being ridiculous"

He sees it, he just won't admit it

Mammon:

MOVIE NIGHT!!! WHIP OUT THAT POPCORN AND PUT ON THE ACTI- huh? What do you mean it's not and action movie???

Pouty baby

Wait- it's not horror is it?..it's not?! Thank diavolo!

!! Not like he was scared or anything! This is THE GREAT MAMMON after all!!

Did cry his eyes out when mirabel and alma fought tho-

"That shape shifting human lied! Where is the 7 foot frame huh?!?"

Satan:

Oh? A family movie that resolves around trauma and how that trauma passed on for one, almost-kinda two generations?

Sign him up-

Analysis the entire movie tbh

I feel like he either likes camilo or isabela or mirabel, there can only be one-

"Hmm alma reminds me of someone" continues to stear at Lucifer

Move over Mc, I'll be taking the unlicensed therapist role for a bit-

Asmo:

MC, come sit next to him so you can cuddle him-

Oh! The flower girl is so pretty! Not as pretty as me ofc, right mc? *bats eyelashes*

Huh?!- five? FIVE BABIES?!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN "WONDERFUL "!??

When isabela let lose he was so hyped

Stayed silent when she said she was marrying for the family tho-

Likes Delores too but prefers isabela

Beel:

Movie? Is there gonna be popcorn?

Sits next to you with belghie leaning on his shoulder

Offers food

Pays enough attention to understand what's going on but not really

Likes antonio and mirabel

Not the biggest fan of alma but understands her pov and what she's been through

Still doesn't excuse how she treated mirabel

Belghie:

Was he asleep minority of the time? Mayyybe

But at least he has a favourite character!

It's Bruno-

Man seems chill and nice to hang with-

"Mc what's that thing he's wearing? A ruana? Oh okay, I want one. It looks comfy"

If mc knows how to make clothes and makes one for him he'll wear it then and there and tackle them with cuddles-

I hope this is good! I'm trying to get back into writing but it's been tough so idk when I'll write anything else but I had to basically juice my brain to get this going. Hope you like it :)

[arcplaysgames]

Omg Yosuke that's so thoughtful of you, organizing the "we ain't got dates" conciliatory orgy event for the holiday! I mean, we all know it's his in with Reverie but I am not gonna rat him out, let him shoot his shot! Literally! Or, figuratively, but-- you know what I mean.

ALSO THIS IS A WONDERFUL FUCKING DETAIL BUT this game is set in the era of flip phones, not smartphones, and the specific way that Yosuke types is emblematic of the way you would use a shitty ten-keypad for typing, and it's SUCH a specific touch.

oh my god now i'm curious how Japanese text messaging worked in that era. if i remember, I wanna look into that later.

yeah you know what that's fair you all can stay here forever. i grew up in florida is palmetto bugs, aka The Big Roaches That Can Fly. my fear is intense and well-founded.

Yosuke you lie like a fucking rug, you literally texted everyone and picked the folks. It would have been JUST as easy to invite EVERYONE to Aiya or something. You cannot fool me, Hanamura, I'm a higher level gay than you are.

TROY BAKER SING TO ME /slams hands on table

I see u blushu, Kanji. /bats eyelashes at Kanji

also the sad hilarity of Teddie knowing the social script more than Yosuke does occur to me, yep.

YURI LOWENTHAL, SING FOR MY AMUSEMENT

gdi no one fucking sings in this scene, what a fucking rip off! booo! zero out of five, worst game i ever played.

anyway, for Christmas proper, NANAKO AND DOJIMA ARE HOME AND I COULD FUCKING CRY ABOUT IT. nanako i am gonna squish ur lil round face i love you mwah mwah

anyway

GOT MY INSURANCE CARD MIGHT LITERALLY BE THE FUNNIEST LINE IN THIS FUCKING GAME, I'M WHEEZING. god the line read is so fucking good on it too, I love Kanji. I would kill for Kanji. He's the best fucking character in Persona and it's not even close.

anyway, shock of shocks, the cake is not poisonous this time and everyone gets to enjoy it (tho Naoto reveals it was their third attempt at making one, lol)

Teddie made Nanako a teddie doll and I want a fucking teddie doll, goddammit

don't even fucking worry about it, dojima, it's fine

Dojima accidentally brings up the fact that Reverie is leaving soon, which Fucking Sucks. but! it sucks less than being a human sacrifice to fuel a seal to prevent the fall of Nyx, The God Of The Dark Hour, so really, can't complain!

I am pretty sure Reverie is gonna live through all this. I think getting his ass shot by Adachi was the only chance of for real dying, so we should be good.

god, I would sacrifice Reverie for, uh, P3P Reverie in a heartbeat.

(I remembered in literally the middle of that sentence that all of my characters are named Reverie Vantas lol)

NANAKO I LOVE YOU can we finally finish your fucking slink tho, is that now allowed again?????

anyway the game is wrapping up and I am anticipating another P3P-style time skip to when Reverie leaves but

one, I am still sort of... not actively sour on but ambivalent about the entire Midnight Channel thing. I feel like the final explanation had a lot of plot holes and didn't really make sense if you thought about it.

two, this is not a game about dying like P3P was so there is a lack of finality to everything honestly, which has less bombast than i anticipated

three, I STILL WISH I FUCKING KNEW WHY NAMATAME, ADACHI, AND REVERIE HAD THIS POWER. like, the big eyeball mentioned it granted powers to those with the fortitude to traverse the hollow forest but WHY SPECIFICALLY THESE THREE DUDES ugh whatever

four, i hope the bonus dungeon boss has some fucking Shenanigans bc Ameno-sagiri just does not compare to Ryoji-Nyx and the multiphase shit that was so fun.

sigh! sigh!!!!!

I did max out Marie tho so I will see about that at some point I guess?

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.32--Episodes 22-1

I have watched through S4E1; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—My feels have been decimated. I should’ve expected a scene wherein Rumple visited Bae’s grave, but I didn’t. OUCH. —It’s pretty cool that Snow and Charming named their son Neal. I wonder how Rumple feels about that.

—Men who wear rings are>>>>>>>>

—I just can’t stand that Dr. Hopper officiated Rumple’s wedding. *weeping happily* *definitely got hit in the feels again* *actually having a pretty good time for once* Is he licensed to do that tho? Also, I adore that he’s the kinda guy who cries at weddings 🥰

—I knew it was a bad idea for Emma to bring that lady back, but I didn’t know it would be this bad! Of all the ladies sentenced to death she could’ve saved, she had to save Marian?

—Look, I love Elsa more than life, but there ain’t no way she’s not gonna hog the spotlight at some point. Her own sister gets trampled to tell her story—which I don’t mind, because Elsa’s story kills me me in the most beautiful way—but these others characters don’t stand a chance.

—It’s so fun that Emma gets to be in the book now!

—I want Hook and Emma to be together, but I’m not entirely sure I have faith in her feelings for him. She’s acting kinda weirdy, so I’m not sure it’s completely legit.

—I’m so sick of Aurora and Philip. I hate them for being in Storybrooke.

—Time will tell whether I end up pleased with the Frozen characters or wish they’d just gone for a fresh Winter’s Child idea. So far, this is much more Frozen than any of the other stories have been their source material.

—I do know that I’m not thrilled with Elsa’s design. I would’ve liked her face to match her original design more—some purple eyeshadow, a darker shade of lipstick, and if not thick, at least full eyelashes. And her dress should’ve gone in the opposite direction; her ice clothes are literally impossible to recreate in a satisfactory manner. Besides, the other princesses don’t wear their signature clothes. (Hmmm…I’m starting to see a trend here.) I really would’ve loved to see a new Elsa dress, maybe reminiscent of the original, but something new and different. Also I’m mad that Anna is just wearing her movie outfit, too.

—But Elsa is still a gorgeous gorgeous girl. So pretty. Stunning.

—Sydney has really just been in the basement this whole time. Poor guy.

—The dancing scene with Belle and Rumple was outstanding. Using the Beauty and the Beast song? Iconic. Finally getting see Belle in a proper princessy dress? No complaints there. RUMPLE IN A FAIRYTALE PRINCE OUTFIT? I’M ABOUT TO COMBUST!!!!

—I’m glad I’m not Regina. Having Robin reaffirm his commitment to his marriage (note: not necessarily to Marian herself, cause he’s lived without her for a while) would’ve just made me fall in love with him more.

—I love the way this show depicts the way people change each other. It’s not just the big, dramatic things, like how Henry changed Regina or how Belle changed Rumple; it’s the little flashbacks that show us how Baelfire shaped Emma’s worldview. People are like different waves in the ocean: we bump into each other all the time, flowing into each other’s lives and experiences, and each time we do we shift each other’s trajectories ever-so-slightly. It’s beautiful.

—Yeah, I’m putting myself off the fence. I do not like the start the Frozen stuff has gotten. It’s too much like the movie.

—Lmao Belle’s last name is literally French.

—Is that the hat from the Sorcerer’s Apprentice? Because good golly I would like to see Yen Sid. Mickey Mouse might be a lil preposterous for this show, but Yen Sid could work.

—It’s kinda funny how all the important stuff just ends up in Rumple’s store. It’s also kinda funny that in all of Storybrooke’s crises, there hasn’t been a single mob raid on that store.

—Anna is serving some young Natalie Portman vibes (specifically, Padme) and I’m low-key here for it. I mean, I have my issues with Padme, but goshdarnit was she ever pretty.

—Am I finally get to know who wrote that book? I’ve been wondering that since the first season.

—The ice trail Elsa left behind while she was walking through Storybrooke had some major slug energy. Lol

—It might be kinda fun if Elsa and Anna’s parents were sort-of badguys in this movie. They were kinda s u s to begin with, might as well just go whole hog on it. Besides, bad parents are a theme in this show, so it wouldn’t even be out of place.

—I hope we get to see Elsa’s coronation. Have I already said I’m dubious on the Frozen stuff? Yes, I have. But…it has capacity to be different. It has the potential to tell Frozen’s story in a somewhat new way. And most importantly, it has the possibility of seeing Elsa in a pretty coronation outfit and crown.