#i love him a normal amount i love him a normal amount i love him a normal amount

[euthymiya]

content includes: female reader, drunk reader + mentions of alcohol, modern + non curse au sukuna, established relationship, unnamed friends, reader makes one (1) dick sucking joke, reader dips fries into shakes because she’s elite like that, he carries reader

It’s half past midnight when he comes to pick you up. Your face sours as soon as you see him, taking an instinctive step back.

“Nuh uh,” you say, wagging a finger back and forth in his face as he scowls. “It’s girl’s night. No men allowed—we’ve been over this!”

“As if I wanna join your stupid girl’s night,” he scoffs. Sukuna is tired. (Of you). It’s too late at night to be worrying about what ditch you’re going to end yourself up in after lord knows how many drinks, so regrettably, he takes matters into his own hands.

It’s a good thing he does, too, he thinks with a flare of his nostril as he eyes the drunk, mess of a woman that’s supposed to be your ride home. Designated driver my ass, he all but grumbles under his breath.

“Hey—” he looks over to the side with an irritated flick of his eyes as a hand smacks his shoulder. Your friend (in not better condition than you) levels him with a snarky look before she hisses, “You heard her! It’s girl’s night. Go away.”

Sukuna ignores her—because, well, that’s what he always does anyway. She talks far too much to be considered a normal amount, and he doesn’t like the shrill sound of her voice. Instead, he turns to you, gives you a firm, scolding look before he grunts, “We are going home. Now.”

You seem to catch onto the stern tone of his voice because within seconds, you’re slumping against him as you whine, “Fine,” with a pout. “Mean.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, “You know what’s meaner? Nasty men who find girls passed out in the middle of the streets. Now let’s go. We’re going home—all of you.”

A chorus of whines and petty insults makes him want to grab a drink himself—being inebriated seems like the only way your friends are tolerable, but as annoying as they are, he refuses to leave them here wasted.

So he does the noble thing, and sacrifices his ear drums as they play whatever stupid pop song is trending on the radio at full volume down the streets, heads sticking out of the windows and screaming the lyrics out to innocent passerby’s.

Sukuna is just a guy. Not the best, most chivalrous or charitable guy, maybe—but just a guy, all the same. He’s not done anything wrong to deserve this torture. He’s been nothing but a kind (usually) boyfriend that loves you unconditionally (most of the time), supports you wholeheartedly (when it suits him), listens to your problems (if he’s in the mood), and makes you feel special (as long as it doesn’t inconvenience him).

Still, he’s stuck basically being an uber driver—for free, no less—to your ungrateful, bratty, obnoxious friends that aren’t pretty enough to enjoy your company in the first place. They don’t even thank him when they get out as he drops them off one by one to their homes, opting to say goodbye to you as if you’re the one who pays for the gas in his car.

Finally, the last of your friends (who he likes to consider nuisances) leaves, freeing him of anymore radio pop songs and unnaturally loud giggles.

He grumbles as you ask, “Can we get milkshakes?”

“No.”

“Please?” You whine, “I want strawberry.”

“That’s great,” he says sarcastically, “The answer’s still no.”

“Please, please, please, Kuna? I’ll suck your dick on the drive there—”

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you?” He hisses, fighting back flushed cheeks as he glares at you once the car rolls to a stop at a red light.

Usually, he’s the one making such lewd comments and getting under your skin—but lacking in sobriety is seriously forcing the two of you to switch roles. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should be nicer to you—you deal with a lot. (Not that he’s mean. He considers himself a pretty generous boyfriend).

“I’ll even pay,” you offer.

“You didn’t bring a wallet, so it looks like I’ll have to pay,” he says blandly.

You grin, giving him an innocent smile as you excitedly ask, “So that’s a yes?”

“Are you going to be quiet if I say yes?” He clicks his teeth in thinly-veiled irritation.

You grin, nodding enthusiastically.

Well, he thinks bitterly, so much for no more pit stops.

It’s not long until he’s pulling into the drive-thru of the nearest fast food joint, rolling his window down to order your stupid, late night request.

“We’ll take one strawberry milkshake, please,” he says gruffly.

“Anything else?” Comes the tired reply of whoever is taking his order.

“No—”

“And large fries, please!” You lean over him to shout out the window and make sure the poor worker hears you. Sukuna glares, (gently) pushing you back into your seat as he hisses, “Put your seatbelt on! And you asked for a milkshake, not a damn meal.”

“Fries aren’t a meal,” you huff, “And they’re good dipped in the shake. You can’t have one without the other.”

“No—”

“I’ll scream that I’m being kidnapped,” you warn, “I want my fries.”

“Fucking fine,” he throws his hands up, exasperatedly caving to your request because, yeah, having some drunk, half-conscious woman in his front seat screaming bloody murder about being abducted at two a.m. is not a good look to a stranger that doesn’t know any better. “One strawberry milkshake and large fucking fries and that’s it,” he growls to the other person through the drive-thru speaker.

It’s not the poor employee’s fault, and he knows it, but he’s too tired and sleep-deprived to care about his snarky attitude.

“It’ll be ready at the window,” the man speaks tiredly, completely unphased.

“Yay!” You squeal.

It’s a pretty bothersome task to have to stop the car five minutes after receiving the food just to open the lid of your cup for you so that you can dip your fries into your milkshake easier, but he figures it’s better than a tiring drive home. Or worse, a spill all over his car seats at your own attempt.

He glances over at you wearily as he finally (hopefully) starts to drive home, watching as you dip your french fries into your frozen drink and happily eat away. He crinkles his eyes at the combination.

He’ll never understand people’s unnatural obsession with pairing anything remotely salty and sweet together.

“My friends think you’re weird,” you hum, taking a handful of fries to your mouth as you say between chewing, “They say you’re intense. Like, scary intense. But I told them, that’s just his face.”

Finally, a small smile cracks on his face, breaking through the grumpy, tired exterior. He snorts, shaking his head. “Drunk you has way too much to say.”

“Drunk me is honest,” you retort, clutching your fries to your chest as you huff, “Now I’m not sharing my fries anymore.”

“You weren’t going to anyway,” he rolls his eyes.

Finally, his car pulls into a familiar parking spot, just outside of your shared home as he parks and turns to you. You giggle at him before humming, “How’d you know?”

“Because you never do,” he rolls his eyes.

“That’s because this relationship is 50/50! You buy the food, and I eat it.”

“Yeah?” He snorts, shaking his head—still, there’s something endearing about the way you clutch your fries close to your chest, as if guarding them with your life. He leans over, snatching one easily anyway, smirking in amusement when you gasp and pout at the gesture.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grunts, fighting back a fond grin before he asks, “Let’s go. We’re going in.”

With that, he comes around to your side of the car, pulling you out and hoisting you up to carry you bridal style as he marches over to the front door. Sighing happily, you admire his face as he walks.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He raises a brow, mildly shocked. “For?”

“For bringing me home. Same time next week?”

He chuckles, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely not. No more girl’s nights with those shit shows.”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main short

Look, I don't know if you can tell, but I really like soulmate AUs, okay. Also, writing something exactly 500 words is more annoying than I thought it would be, but was a fun experiment.

Lightly inspired by this post.

Edit: there is a part 2 now!

Danny's parents were never concerned about the words on Danny’s wrist. Given their occupation, they thought Danny would meet someone while studying, or perhaps even lecturing on ghosts, or maybe as part of some other job in the future. Jazz has always been concerned about the words on Danny’s wrist. This is probably the normal reaction, given most people do not surround themselves with the dead. 

Danny himself was concerned about it for a while. But then he died. The amount of death surrounding him at all times, what with his parents’ study of ghosts, practically tripled after that. And suddenly the words ‘Is he dead?’ were a lot less concerning. Because in his life, oftentimes the answer was yes.

Not that he was always around dead bodies or anything. But the company he kept did include a large amount of ghosts and other ectoplasmic beings, that while they were not dead, weren’t technically alive either. 

So, Danny moved on with his life as normal. He knew what his words were, but was never actively listening for them. For a few years there he was barely hanging on to sanity, battling ghosts and trying to graduate high school. 

Eventually, life calmed down. His parents, unfortunately, died in their own lab accident. Danny was in his senior year at the time, and Jazz took a semester off of college to help him graduate and get accepted at university himself. Then they shut the portal down and moved on from Amity Park.

Jazz went back to Yale. Danny, who did not make high enough grades for that, went to Gotham University. It was there that he discovered he actually really liked college. School was a lot easier when he wasn’t fighting for his life all the time, and this time he got to take classes he was actually interested in. 

By the start of his second year, his life was looking up. He was majoring in mechanical engineering, and he loved all his science classes. He had a somewhat decent apartment, and was living without much worries on the money from selling his parents’ house. Gotham is not the best area, but it can be a really cheap place to live. And he didn’t see Sam, Tuck, or Jazz as often as any of them would like, but they were all happy where they were.

Which makes the current moment much more distressing than it would have been in his teenage years. As Danny looks at the now-dead body in front of him, then turns and presses his forehead into the alley wall. He’s seconds away from banging his head against it, but that would only give him a headache and would in no way help the current situation. 

The vigilante standing across the alley, on the other side of the body, did not move for a solid minute upon rounding the corner onto the scene. Then he asks, in a voice distorted by tech, “Is he dead?”.

This is not good.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑰𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Snake!Hybrid Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Snakes! Mentions of Blood/Stitches, Fork/Split tongue, Oral(F), Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Biting, Two Dicks (kinda double P), Sorry for any mistakes or Missing warnings!

A/N: My animal knowledge really shows here😂

Series Master List

-🖤

It was rare to see snake hybrids. A lot of them hid in fear of how others treated them. Humans were mean creatures, especially to things they fear. They knew that all too well, so seeing a snake hybrid brought into your adoption center was strange. His scales were flakey, eyes stuck with shed. You could tell whoever had him didn’t treat him well.

No one wanted to be near him most of your colleagues staying away some even squealing. However you weren’t scared, did you like snakes? Not particularly, but you knew he needed help. When you approached him in the little container he was in he hissed. You quickly shushed him picking him up to take him to the sink area. You had run him a small bath, just some water for him to soak in. “I can’t believe you’re touching that thing” someone streaked at your side.

“It deserves the same amount of love and compassion as any others here” you retort looking down at him. You cleaned him up helping the stuck shed off before putting him back with a heating lamp.

“Y/n will you take it home?” Your manager had asked.

“Why don’t you want it here?” You glared.

“Listen, most of us don’t like them. He’s probably not gonna get adopted and we also aren’t equipped to take care of him properly. You at least seem to know what you’re doing.” They rambled.

You looked back down at the snake who was now curled up by your hand. “Fine, I’ll take it home, however.” You said with a small pause. “He’s mine as soon as we leave and I want the next few days off to take care of him and help him settle.” You stated.

“Of course-“ your manager started to say before you interrupted him.

“Paid” you said sternly.

With a sigh knowing he wasn’t gonna win he agreed just wanting that thing out of the building.

You put him in your spare room, getting the necessary stuff for his set up. You watched as he explored smiling to yourself. “Listen, I know you understand me. So whenever if ever you wanna become human. This room is yours. You have free roam where ever. You’ll be safe here, and taken care of” you kept talking.

He laid under the heating lamp listening carefully. If he could laugh he would. He’s heard that before. Knowing damn well his last owner started off with “love” but quickly forgot about him. He never got comfortable enough to turn so what made you think he would here he wondered.

As days went on you grew fonder of him, seeing some of his goofy personality shine through. His scales looked a lot healthier, a beautiful dark shade with glints of goldish color in them. They matched his beautiful piercing gold eyes. He hissed at you a lot however never making any attempt at striking. After shifts at work you’d pick him up out of his tank, laying him on the couch as you watched tv. It was one of these nights that it changed.

You had done your normal taking him out laying him on the couch with a heating pad beside if he got to cold. He stayed there as you cooked dinner only to be startled from his sleep by a crashing sound. He could smell blood in the air his fork tongue flickering at the scent. “Fuck!” He heard you yell from the kitchen with a bit of rustling. He was scared something had happened that someone broke in. In his panic turning ‘human’. He ran into the kitchen only to see you on the floor holding your hand that was gushing blood.

“What the hell happened?” He said making you jump. He looked at you realizing he was ‘human’.

“You turned?” You said almost excitedly.

He couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh “that shouldn’t be the focus right now, you’re literally bleeding” he said before grabbing a clean towel to wrap it around your hand.

You watched him looking over his features. He had a sharp jawline, slim but muscular physique, those gold eyes even prettier. When he started talking your eyes found themselves on his pillowy lips. You could see the small peak of fangs and to your surprise his tongue was split. You were just in awe taking him in not even realizing he was talking to you. Not until he lifted your head with his warm hand. “Hello? Are you listening? You probably need stitches” he said looking at you were furrowed brows.

You only nodded eyes still scanning over him. You grabbed your phone off the counter with your other hand calling your neighbor. He came over taking you to the hospital and you did in deed need stitches.

Your snake hybrid cleaned up the mess. He finished making the dinner you were working on before it happened and sat there. Waiting. Agonizingly waiting. When you came through the door he smiled sighing in relief. “Hey! Thanks for cleaning and- wait you finished dinner?” You said surprised.

“Yeah, how’s the hands?” He said.

“Ah well it’s not bleeding anymore” you said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you cut yourself that deep, what were you doing? Dancing with the knife?” He teased.

“No this was all just a scheme to see if you’d come to my rescue” you teased back making him roll his eyes. “Since I can properly ask you now though, what’s your name?” You asked siting down at the counter.

“Hyunjin.” He said.

“Good now I can stop calling you snakey” you said laughing.

After that moment Hyunjin didn’t turn back for the most part. Sometimes you’d fined him curled up under his heating lamp, other times he’d be curled up on the couch under lots of blankets. Your routine continued coming home, cooking, sitting on the couch with him just watching tv. Now though, he talked back. He got into the habit of curling up against you when you came home. Your body’s heat always feeling so nice to him.

You came home today more exhausted than normal though. A fight braking out between some hybrids at work. You being in the middle of it when it happened. Today honestly wasn’t as normal as you thought. All the hybrids were acting weird around you. A lot more possessive and clingy. When you walked through the door thinking about it more you realized hyunjin hadn’t came out from his tank.

“Hyune, are you ok?” You asked leaning down over the tank. When he didn’t budge you picked him up like normal his skin scales feeling warm. He hissed at you baring his fangs. “Are you mad at me?” You said softly, making him stop. He slithered up your arm before slithering down your leg. He made his way to the bed before turning back to his human like form.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “I’m not mad at you. Ugh” he groaned. “Do you realize you’re ovulating?” He said with a loud groan.

“Am I? Is that why everyone’s been so weird today?” You questioned.

“Probably- god I don’t know how you went to work with all of them. You’re supposed to be mine” he said the end of his sentence trialing off.

“I am yours” you said quickly with out realizing your own words impact.

“Yeah?” He said looking up at you. Those gold eyes had a hint of something in them. “Then let me make you mine.” He said before grabbing your arm pulling you to him.

He didn’t give you anytime to protest before kissing you, his lips warm softer than you’d imagine. His kiss was hungry tongue quickly making its way into your mouth. His hands came down pulling your bottoms down quickly in one swift motion. He was moving so fast, his motions only driven by need. The need to have you all his, a primal need. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip as he moved down your neck. It was almost like he was a little vampire with those fangs. He kissed down your body, pulling your thighs up to him.

He licked his lips looking at your dripping cunt “she’s calling me” he said with a smirk before diving into your core. His fork tongue feeling way different from anything you’d ever had before. Both the muscles moving on their own as they lapped at your folds. His fingers came up to graze against your slick before pushing them into you. He curled them hitting a sensitive spot. The moan you let out only drove him to keep doing it. To hear it again and again. Your hands found their way to his long soft locks.

“Fuck Hyune” you moaned out.

“Feel good? Gonna cum on my tongue?” He said with a devilish smile.

You nodded making that smile only grow. He picked up his speed fingers finding another even more sensitive spot. With his pace and tongue lapping at your clit your high crashed quickly over you. Walls tightening around his fingers. He licked a long strip up eyes staining into yours. He wanted to keep going, wanted to keep tasting you all over him but he needed to be inside you. Fuck your smell alone was gonna make him nut in his pants.

He stood up pulling down his pants revealing his two curvy cocks. With shock, eyes widen you blurted out “you have two?!”

He couldn’t help but laugh “yeah, you didn’t know? Thought you read up on me” he said. He took your hand wrapping it around the bigger one “this one’s the main one, and th- this one” he stuttered as your hand grazed the smaller one “this one is super sensitive like your clit” he said.

You nodded staring intently at his cocks. He leaned you back pressing his body against your kissing you deeply. He slowly pushed himself into you, the smaller cock rubbing against your clit. He let out a hiss of pleasure before his mind went. He started pounding into you mercilessly. His smacking against yours. The sounds of moans and skin smacking filling the air with the scent of sex. He had his head buried in the crook of your neck his long fangs grazing so gently at it. “I shouldn’t even let you leave smelling this good, all of them got their gross scent on you.” He hissed. “I’m gonna make sure they know you’re taken.”

His thrusts continued fast before he gripped at your legs pressing them against your chest before drilling into you. The new angel letting him hit at your cervix. “Hyunjin!” You screamed hands coming up to touch his chest. He pulled out fully before pushing hard back into you however he felt bigger. You felt more pressure in your core like somehow his cock grew a size. The pornagraphic sound he let out made your eyes snap open looking down you realized why he felt bigger. His smaller cock has slipped in, your cunt sucking both of them so greedily.

“Sh-shit I- I- fuck!” His head rolled back not being able to even speak at the pleasure. The warmth overtaking his smaller cock making it twitch in over stimulation. He snapped his hips back one more time both cocks pushing deep inside of you before you were Cumming. Cumming harder than you have ever before. His body shook at the feeling. Your walls tightening more and more around him. He gripped at your hips harshly digging his nails into you. He cried out as his release finally spilled out painting your walls white.

When you stared to squirm a bit trying to adjust yourself, the movement pushing him deeper into you making him whimper. “D-don’t move” he pleaded. You realized his smaller cock was still hard. You smirked up at him before moving away only to push back on him. He gasped almost like the wind was knocked out of him. His hands tried to stop your movement but one more push back his smaller cock was cumming.

He had the most intense orgasm, his body shook body falling to the side of you. He tried regaining his breath “I’ve- I’ve never- with my smaller” his words coming out choppy but you knew what he meant.

You pushed some of his hair back kissing him softly. “M’sorry for- I should have asked” he said still out of breath.

“It’s ok hyune honestly after today kinda needed it” you said with a smile.

“Gl-glad I could help.” He said nuzzling his head into your neck. His breathing was still heavy as you stroked his back.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[onbearfeet]

So this is my wildly unscientific two cents, but ... some wolfdogs really are this specific combo of smart/spooky, and it is as amazing as it is terrifying.

I used to spend time at what amounted to a wolf/wolfdog rescue, a place where hand-raised wolves and wolfdogs ended up if their humans couldn't handle them. The most common reason they ended up there was that the sheer That's Not A Dog-ness finally got to someone. They were refugees from a canine uncanny valley. Very good puppers, most of them, but you had to look past the deep spookiness. English isn't set up for this, so the best I can say is it makes you think about the first humans to domesticate wolves, and how their neighbors were probably scared of them because what the FUCK is that THING walking beside you, Thog??? I suspect the process of selectively breeding wolves into dogs was at least 50% selecting out the creepy factor.

These animals are smarter than you think an animal should be. They are highly social and AMAZING at picking up human cues, especially if they've been raised around a bunch of humans who interact with one another a lot. They can and will problem-solve and play-act in elaborate ways to fuck with you for their own amusement. If they don't open every door in your house every single day, it's a courtesy. If they stay inside your fence, it's because this is their territory, and maybe they like your snacks. I heard them described often as having "cat personalities", but the cat in question was probably a mountain lion.

Most of them had been bred as either sled dogs or masculinity symbols, primarily the latter. And they KNEW how weird humans are about wolves, and were willing to exploit it. One of them, a high-content wolfdog with striking golden fur, would greet visitors who smelled like food not by jumping or begging but by either sitting and staring or calmly falling into step beside them like she was a familiar in a bad fantasy movie. Neither behavior is normal for wolves meeting new humans, but she'd somehow figured out how to spot humans who believed they had a mystical connection with wolves, and she milked it for extra treats. People who came to "commune with the wild" loved her solemn dignity. I thought it was hilarious that an absolute gremlin had people so thoroughly fooled.

So yes, I believe Jed could act. He probably didn't understand exactly what a movie was or what space aliens were, but he figured out that spookiness got him what he wanted, and he went full spooky.

Wolves and wolfdogs are amazing. Do not get one.

There's a lot of debate if Jed (actor dog from The Thing and a few other movies) was a wolfdog or not. He was said to be half wolf half malamute, but to me he looks too much like a dog to be half wolf. Sorry if you've been asked this question about him before, but what's your opinion on it?

He was a wolfdog! He’s was a low-content malamute mix, and a very talented boy! He does look like he’s got quite a bit of dog in him, so I wouldn’t say he’s mid content, but if he was he’d be on the lower side.

[seymooner]

Professor Volkarin..

[catsukkii]

can’t stop thinking about bakugo with nailtech!reader

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who buys her any and every product she could imagine, and of course it must be top of the line! his girl has to have the best of the best.

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who is absolutely enamored by her talent. he was always cocky about literally everything he’s done, but he was severely impressed the minute you show him the cute designs and art you do; even he knows he could ‘never do that shit.’

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who lets you practice on him. He will sit down in your chair and let you practice your hot pink long acrylics with hello kitty charms on him with no complaints. (well maybe a few.)

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who matches nails with you, there’s been multiple sets of your long acrylics with explosions designed along the nail, you make him match by painting a simple design on his nail, he actually doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would.

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who only posts you, your nail company, and him and you on his social medias, minus twitter because he normally just angry tweets on there. (his PR team has gotten very upset at him a few times…) anytime you make a new story, post, or anything to do with your nails the first words he speaks are always ‘tag me in it.’ simply so he can upload it to his story.

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who accidentally blasts your business a bit to much. You get overwhelmed with the amount of appointments and it’s difficult to handle, so you have to practically force him not to post your business on his story anymore. He listens, not wanting to overwhelm you, but is upset the ‘stupid media is stopping him from showing off his girlfriends amazing work.’

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who watches while she works when the day is over. He comes home after a long hard day fighting villains and rescuing civilians, and loves to walk in through the door and see you hunched over your desk working on a set. On his days off you best believe hes just sitting, watching intently and asking the same questions hes asked a million times. (he still doesn’t understand that just because 2 shades look almost the exact same they’re not.)

katsuki bakugo with nailtech!reader, who is Inlove with his talented girlfriend, and thinks her profession is actually so neat.

a/n; they would be so cutie I can’t breathe

[syd-vixious]

Guess who found a new character to write for thanks to a psychological indie horror game?

me

[theanonymousninja247]

Aggressive Affection at its finest. Chef kiss 😚🤌🏼

part1 | part2 | part3 | part 4

context: 1/ 2 / 3

[amethystandemma]

Me: I watch Fantastic Beasts for the plot

The plot:

[gabessquishytum]

The ton of London is abuzz with the latest drama unfolding between Morpheus Endless and his father, Lord Time, over the question of the former’s marriage and just who is meant to meet him at the altar.

From almost the beginning of the Season, everyone had been treated to the sweet and clear courtship of Morpheus by Mr. Hob Gadling. It seemed to be love at first sight, and from a practical standpoint was considered to be a rather good match; Hob might have been new money, but what he lacked in connections he more than made up in wealth, looks, and honest charm. The Endless family are well-connected and well-respected, and while Morpheus could possibly have held out for a more equally-connected match, he was a third child (thus bringing little status to a marriage, when compared to his elder siblings), and furthermore had been considered rather unapproachable, aloof and cold, at least until Hob had managed to melt that icy exterior.

It had gotten to the point where anyone paying attention expected to hear of a proposal any day now, when chaos erupted: Lord Time, who had evidently not been paying any attention to his son or his courtship, heard the match being talked of as a settled thing, and quite firmly announced that he would not allow it. That he had in fact been arranging Morpheus’ betrothal to Mr Roderick Burgess!

Society is shocked by such a choice. The Burgess family was nearly as nouveau riche as Mr. Gadling, but with a much worse reputation (and possibly less rich). And to Roderick, to whom most of the poor reputation belongs, and who has a grown son of his own! By every measure Hob Gadling is clearly the better catch, besides which Morpheus Endless’ honor is quite firmly engaged at this point, and it would be scandalous to jilt Mr. Gadling after such a blatant courtship for such an inferior alternative.

Yet Lord Time refuses to budge on his decision, and no amount of attempted persuasion by his acquaintances, children, or even his wife (who normally presents a united front with her husband), will convince him that this course of action will damage his family’s reputation and his son’s happiness.

Morpheus doesn’t intend to take this lying down however. He plans to put himself in increasing compromising positions with his real fiancée (who is fully on board with the plan), until he is either officially engaged to Hob or considered so thoroughly ruined that the Endless family’s reputation can never recover.

And so the ton holds its breath at this game of chicken, waiting to see which happens first: the son bending to his father’s stubborn will and submitting to the sanctioned match, or the father breaking against the son’s determined willingness to drag the family name through the mud in order to marry his preferred suitor.

(Little does the ton know just how unlikely the former outcome is, as Morpheus loves Hob Gadling as strongly as he hates Roderick Burgess. Thus he is fully ready if necessary to bring himself and Hob off in the middle of a crowded ballroom, and make it very clear that this is not the first time they’ve engaged in pre-marital relations, if that’s what it takes)

Yes!!!!! I love these Bridgerton adjacent ideas for dreamling because those two are SO dramatic, you just know that they'd thrive in those conditions.

The nice thing about Hob being new money is that he doesn't really have much of a reputation to ruin, and no family to be disappointed in him. He cares very little about what anyone thinks of him; the only person he's interested in pleasing is Morpheus! And although he'd certainly prefer to save Dream’s reputation, for the sake of his beloved's place in society, Hob has no trouble at all in following Morpheus’s orders and misbehaving all over the place!

And it's certainly convenient, since they've been fucking ever since the Season began. Now Hob doesn't have to bother trying not to mark Morpheus’s neck above the line of his cravat. Hob has some well-placed conversations with some of the most notorious gossips in the ton, and soon enough everyone is craning their necks to see if the love bites are visible on Morpheus’s pretty white neck today...

Finally, Roderick Burgess seemingly can't take the idea of marrying a ruined slut like Morpheus any longer (despite the connections to the aristocracy, and all the benefits that would come with the marriage... Burgess can't cope with the fact that he would not be the first to break Morpheus in, so to speak). He breaks the deal with Lord Time, and what do you know, less than a week later, Morpheus and Hob are quietly married at an intimate little ceremony.

The ton decides to conveniently forget about the couple's scandalous behaviour - they're safely married now, so it's all quite alright. It was for the best that Morpheus married the man he clearly adored! And the honeymoon period seemingly hasn't ended either... at every ball of the next season, the newlyweds are bound to sneak off for old times sake, to some secret corner where they can renew their marital bliss. Not to mention what they get up to on the carriage ride home! It's quite clear to everyone (thanks to all the noises of satisfaction coming from behind the curtains) that Morpheus chose the right husband <3

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

Astro x reader…listener x yapper….like imagine him being all warm and snuggled up against his partner as they talk about their day……

Omg yes. 100000000% I LOVE THAT!!

I love Astro a normal amount. I swear.

Prompt: Headcanons(romantic)

Characters: Astro Novalite

Pronouns: GN reader

Compared to Astro you’ve always been more chatty.

He always love listening to you talk as you cuddle up together in his blanket. While you talk about either your latest interest, interactions or drama.

Makes him happy and calm just to hear your voice.

Trust me, if he could he’d go into your dreams just to talk to you, but sadly…he can’t really interact with you in your dreams, so the waking world does just fine.

He could fall asleep to your voice it calms him down so much, he has multiple times.

If you stop talking tho he wakes right back up and asks why you stopped!!

He loves to lean on you while you talk. Especially if you’re cooking, it’s so comforting and just. So nice.

I headcanon, that he’s always dreamed of having just a quiet life without worrying about all the main character stuff, and just being happy with the person he loves most, listing to your stories.

Guess dreams can come true for a guy like him after all!

Sorry it’s short!!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!!

[ophelia-ophelian]

Research you

Mr. Silvair x reader

AN: okay listen— i have no clue if there is fanfiction out there about Homicipher at all so, I’m still trying to figure out how to do their language within our text. I am actually brainstorming a way to fix it😼 but I digress, I love this dude he’s so cute. Also I saw the poll of keeping in game language, but since this is longer I’m doing what @/dav-ulysses suggested and mixed it. maybe shorter blurbs will be in game talking

Warning: blood/syringe, suggestive but not much, experimental writing

As you wake up, you take a look around to try and remember where you are and what you were doing. You see the tattered walls that enclose every room in this magic world and swing your legs over the bed you were resting at. You hear a giggle in front of you and see Mr. Crawling sitting near the door staring at you through his hair. 

“Leave?” He squeaked out, tilting his head.

“No, I’m just going to go explore,” you respond as you open the door and leave. As you turn around, you realize he’s going to follow you as normal. Despite him being so scary and monstrous looking, he’s been more friendly and helpful than most people you’ve met since coming here. People? You give a thought, I can’t tell if I would say people or creatures? You brush off the thought and look around to see Mr. Chopped’s head laying on the counter in the main area with Hand resting next to him. 

You hear a hum as you turn to see Mr. Silvair, “Hello. You okay?” You smile back as an affirmation as he continues, “Want research you.”

You try to reply using their sounds, “Erm…Why research me?”

“Me interested human body. Me want research you,” a pause, “Your likeness previously human. You human here, yes?”

Ah, he wants to research humans. You knew Mr. Silvair was interested in them, given the amount of tools such as syringes, scalpels, and the like whenever he mentioned his research. You also recall his small musings about helping Mr. Chopped get a body of his own, but being warned about how dangerous it would be since it might completely change him and destroy his sentience. Mr. Silvair pulls you out of this rabbit hole of thoughts by clearing his throat and ushering you back into his research room. You smile as confirmation of letting him study you and you follow him into the back of his room. He beckons you to lay, and as you do, he begins talk to you about what he’s been learning. Given the time passed you tried to keep track of, you were starting to understand the language of this world, give or take a few words that you could fill in with context.

Once he is finished his mini rant to himself, he waves his hand to get your attention, “I want to test the difference between human blood and our blood, and what could possibly be leading to the rot of your body, the longer to stay in this ‘realm’ you talk about. Can you let me take your blood?” With an affirmative, he rolls up your sleeve and wipes down your skin with some type of wet cloth and gripping your bicep to make your veins protrude more. “If you do not like watching, do not look,” and with that, you feel the prick of his syringe and the coldness of your blood draining creep in. Before you know it, however, he pulls back and gives you a bandage to cover your bleeding. Looking up at you, he mentions “Humans do not heal like us, but given your time here, you seem to be adapting. It is irregular and I want to know why.”

He pulls back and puts his syringe behind him on a desk with a number of other liquids that you could probably guess would be other creatures’ blood. Some were colored like yours, and some were darker, but most seemed as similar to yours in color than you expected. Mr. Silvair notices this and talks about the difference, but since his back is turned to you, its harder to decipher what exactly he is explaining since you can’t use the crutch of reading his lips to try and match the sounds to the vocabulary words in your dictionary – which Mr. Crawling so kindly gave an empty journal one morning when you offhandly mentioned there are so many words to learn that you are losing track of and need to write down to remember them all.

Seemingly done with his lesson, Mr. Silvair turns back to you and places his hand over your chest. You flinch backwards, questioning what he’s doing and he tilts his head, explaining that he wanted to measure heartbeats since he knows all humans have them, but they are different for some reason. You reply with your knowledge from high school biology about hearts the best that you can and he nods.

“Thank you. Can I check yours to make sure that you are healthy?”

Taken aback, you figure its from a good intention as you remember that certain creatures here have different understands of emotions. Such as Mr. Hooded doesn’t understand liking people and fun and Mr. Crawling thinks being cute is wearing human eats like a cat. You give Mr. Silvair consent to a body check and he thanks you in return. He then places a hand on your chest, the other on your back, and instructs you to breathe deeply. As you do, he seems to be humming in approval and his hands change position across your chest, applying slight pressure each time. 

He does this a few more times before furrowing his brows, “Your heartbeat is getting faster. You okay?” He hums inquisitively before tilting your head up to meet what would be his eyes if not for the fabric covering it. “Its speeding up now that I’m looking at you. Could it be that I make you nervous?” He questions. Your eyes, face suddenly feeling hot, breaks eye contact and you stare at anything other than him. You admit, he is one of the best people here given he taught you so much when you barely understood “yes” or “no,” and continuously took care of and protected you. Not only that, he cares for Mr. Chopped, who is unable to do anything unless you or Mr. Silvair carry and help him. You also admit how charming he is with his long, silver hair, and his handsome face, and–

“I see,” he continues, leaning in and moving his head to look into your eyes again. You lean back, attempting once again to look anywhere other than him. He follows and soon, he is towering over you, slyly smiling as his hand that isn’t holding your face grasps one of your own hands, bringing it up to his chest. Though faint, he does have something resembling a heartbeat, maybe because he’s more human-like than the other creatures here, he might actually have a heart. He moves your hand over his chest till it lands opposite of where a human’s heart would have been. It makes sense, their world is very different and opposite than ours. “I also happen to relate to your heart, human. I enjoy your presence more than I initially expected. Most humans succumb to the festering of their bodies here, or are killed by the hostile others. But you,” he drops your hand on his chest and holds your other hand, bringing them together, and then closer to him, so that you are now mere inches apart, “are exceptional. You are strong, you are smart, you have resisted most of the effects of the festering. You, are special. Very special. I am interested in you. Moreover, I am interested on your body. How strong is it and what would cause it to break, I wonder?”

Feeling the heat in your face spreading through your body, embarrassment evident now, you gasp as he pushes you further with your back on the table. “How are your reflexes, I wonder,” he softly says as he slams a hand near your head, causing you to flinch. “Interesting,” he notes, “How would you react to different types of touching? You react differently based on the individual, I’ve noticed. But I’ve never tested myself. Let’s see…” He then traces ever so light lines up and down your thigh, noting your shivers. “Fascinating,” he continues, then he uses that same hand to caress your face, using his thumb to reassure you. As you lean into it, he hums inquisitively with hints of satisfaction before completely removing himself from you and turns to his vials of blood again, jotting down notes. Stunned, you continue to stare at his back mouth agape before he waves you off saying that he has concluded most of his research and will call upon you again once he needs you. You shift your position and get off the table, quickly readjusting your clothes and heading back out into the main area, Mr. Chopped still asleep with Mr. Crawling sitting outside the room.

“You okay?” he chirps.

“Yes, I’m okay,” you respond, giving him two peace signs which he reciprocates with a giggle.

Well, that was certainly something. 

Tag list: @kiatheinsomniac

[mindless-existence1]

Lazy Mornings- Spencer Reid x Reader

Authors note: You and Spencer both work for the bau and are dating.

The morning light was brightly shining through the window near your bed. You let out a soft groan at the harsh lighting, you attempt to trun to the side but are stoped by a arm wrapped around your waist.

Spencer shift slightly, tightening his grip on you. He mumbles something incoherent you can't make out. You slowly reach out your hand grabbing for you phone to check the time.

When you do panic seeps into your mind. Somehow both yours and Spencer's alarms failed to go off. It was almost 2 hours past your normal start time.

"Spence we gotta get up, we're super late." Your groggy voice did little to wake him up. Spencer kept you from fully sitting up, holding you down with his arms. "No we don't sweetie."

You hold back a laugh at his whiney tone. "Spence it's late." He nods, his messy hair bouncy slightly at the movement. "And we don't have to go into work." Spencer's voice is deep and scratchy from his tiredness.

"Sorry genius boy but I think we do actually." This time you couldn't hold the chuckle that escaped your lips. Spencer shakes his head again, he pushes himself up with the arm not draped across your stomach.

"I finished my paperwork yesterday and Hotch even told me we deserve a day off. Morgan owes me a favor so I asked him to finish the little amount of work you still had." When Spencer finishes explaining he plops back down onto the bed.

With a smile you gingerly lay back down, pulling the covers over the two of you. "Now we just need to not get called in." You joke. Spencer groans, resting his head in the crook if your neck. "Don't even say that."

You chuckle softly, gentoly running your hand through the messy locks of hair on Spencer's head. He hums in content, slowly drifting back into a deep sleep.

A muffled sound came from where Spencer had his face pressed into your neck. "I love you to Spence."

[paxerle]

saw your oc and not surprised that it’s a child. no wonder aoex fandom has so much pedos in it that have child characters. go and delete yourself

okay normally I don’t answer on those hate messages but this one is personal so I try my best to explain what happened to me somehow idk my English is not the best and I’m not used to talk about personal stuff online.

🌼

Hi! My name is Pax and I’m receiving hate messages since I started posting art of my favorite character from Blue Exorcist.

At first it was only on twitter. I started posting around a year ago and then people sent me messages like how they hate Arthur. I wasn’t used to be part of a fandom so I thought it was kinda normal. I just blocked the people and yes it became calmer after that. Then it started on tumblr too. I love to get questions where I can draw something in return but I also got anon questions that are just rude or weird. Luckily you can block anons too but somehow they always come back to me after a small amount of time and tbh idk what I do wrong.

I am ignoring, deleting and blocking those all the time. Don’t get me wrong I really don’t care much but saying stuff like I’m a pedo is WRONG just because I have a child OC. I’ve never drawn him in any romantic way and I’ll never do. I don’t even think about that. Why should I? OCs are often like own children and my oc Kingo is like my own son. He was originally created for a roleplay where Arthur decided to adopt him after a lot of things happened to him. They are only father and son and they love each other because Arthur is trying to be a really good dad like he always trying to do his best with no matter what he do. The point is Kingo became my OC after I got the diagnosis that I’d never be able to get own children after trying it for 4 years. It was my dream even if a lot of people couldn’t imagine how important it can be for a woman who really wants this. I build a house where everything should be safe for my future child. Getting this result of all my tests and my health conditions was a shock I’ll never get fully over it even if I pretend. My relationship broke after 8 years and I never felt so useless.

This is the reason why I created my OC Kingo. Not because I am a pedo or something wtf. It was because I found consolation in having a fictional son and that he has a family that cares about him. Thats why Kingo will always be a very special OC and I get very emotional when it comes to him.

I know I don’t need to explain myself and who the fuck is gonna read that text hmm but yes. Stop hating me I just wanna do art. Nothing more. You’re annoying go out and do something nice instead of hating each other ✨

[tellyouily]

maybe stay here forever

dnf - couch cuddles - 1.4k words

george likes dream's sweater and patches seems to like it too

There is this sweater that Dream wears sometimes, a dark blue half-zip fleece with leather patches on the elbows and deep, warm pockets, that George is a little bit obsessed with.

Of course, the pockets are mostly there to be used by whoever is wearing the sweater, not by his best friend slash boyfriend who constantly has cold hands, but it’s a nice benefit. Not to mention that Dream also happens to look especially great in it, all broad and soft and rugged—especially with a few days worth of stubble on his face and his curls a little messy.

Which has been the case for most of the time these recent weeks, much to George’s contentment.

If someone were to ask him about it, though, he would maintain that he likes the blue sweater a normal amount. Give or take. And he might bring himself to admit that it’s the person wearing it who he likes more than just a little. An abnormal amount, you could say. A ludicrous amount.

He’ll admit that happily.

After searching high and low for the past ten minutes, he finally finds Dream in the guest house, of all places. He’s on the couch with his legs outstretched and his laptop—surprise, surprise—perched on his lap. Somehow, Patches has fit herself on his chest, too, fast asleep with her head on his shoulder like a baby. She must have ventured in here looking for him, too.

And she must have taken one look at the dark blue sweater Dream is wearing and deemed it a nice place to take a nap.

George doesn’t appreciate that she succeeded on that quest before he did.

“Hey you,” he says, announcing his presence. He leans his back on the door to close it.

Dream looks up and stretches, lifting a hand to the back of his head. His screen casts a soft glow on his face, and George would bet good money that either gmail dot com or his editing software is currently filling it. Or both. Dream likes the split-screen function.

“Hey you,” Dream echoes, making George smile as he nudges past the coffee table to join him.

This is really not a couch that can fit two people lying down, it can barely fit one if he’s honest, but Dream scooches closer to the back pillow and lifts his arm as a wordless invitation.

George does not need to be asked twice, climbing into position. He feels like he’s precariously close to the edge, but then Dream wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him close, and he relaxes like he’s been given a sedative.

Patches stirs ever so slightly at the commotion, giving George what he’s sure is a pointed look.

“She took my spot,” he mumbles, frowning at her and watching her simply close her eyes again and let out a sigh.

Dream’s hand comes to rest near the waistline of George’s sweatpants, his fingers grazing the sliver of skin where his hoodie has ridden up.

“There’s two spots,” he says gently.

And he’s right, of course. And really, George thinks it’s a good sign that Patches has chosen this as her desired nap location. She’s a smart cat and if this is the safest, warmest place she could think of, then he trusts her judgment wholeheartedly.

He would probably do the same if he was a cat. He’s even doing it now, as a human.

Only now does the laptop screen in front of him come into focus, showing something entirely different from what he was willing to bet money on. It’s a sports game of some kind—football? Or is that rugby?

All he knows is that each team is wearing a different color and that they are both running around on the field trying to win. And that Dream might be a furnace in disguise with how warm he is. Mostly the last thing.

“What are you watching?” George asks.

“Football game,” he answers, followed by a soft huff of amusement. “That you don’t care about.”

“I care a lot, actually.”

“Uh huh.” His smile is audible. “I’m sure it’s so interesting to you.”

George nods into the folds of the fleecy fabric. “It is. I love it,” he lies, making Dream laugh.

The game on screen seems to go on some kind of break and the camera pans to the players standing around, leaning on their knees, out of breath, and to the crowd and muted discussion between the referee and who George assumes is one of the team captains. Dream sighs and presses a kiss on the top of George’s head.

“If it was soccer you’d care,” he says. “ Actually care.”

George hums in a way that means yes. Real football, you mean , he would have said if he wasn’t so comfortable that he is tempted to let sleep overtake him. Take a page out of Patches’ book.

He’s surrounded by the kind of warmth that reminds him of his childhood. Of coming back inside from playing in the snow and getting to sit by the fireplace and watch cartoons to get the feeling back in his fingers. It’s more than enough to make him want to succumb to sleep.

Dream’s palm coming to rest fully on his bare stomach makes him blink. On screen, the game has started back up and so has the faint sound of cheering coming from the speakers.

With some difficulty, he retrieves his phone from his pocket. If he is to keep himself awake while lying here, watching American football is not the way to do it.

He uses Dream’s chest to prop up his phone and lets his thumb swipe past X and over to Reddit instead. 

Some of the posts are worth reading, others he scrolls past. It doesn’t take long for Dream’s attention to inevitably get pulled to his screen, as well, abandoning the game. George doesn’t blame him. He can tell that he’s reading, concentrating, by the way his hand starts drawing mindless shapes on his hip. He tries to move as little as possible in hopes that Dream won’t realize that he’s doing it and possibly stop.

They’re halfway through a particularly technical post about the motion detection system they’ve set up for the titan when a message from Sapnap pops up at the top of his screen.

Something stupid, of course. So stupid he might have just ignored it had it not been for the way he feels Dream smile against his temple.

George snorts. “What an idiot.”

He swipes down and types an even more stupid reply, making Dream turn his head away to laugh. Really laugh.

George grins. He knew that would get him. He’s much funnier than Sapnap could ever dream of being. “What’s so funny?”

Dream answers by burrowing his face into the back of his neck, his quiet laughter getting muffled by the hood of his hoodie. He’s in that kind of mood, George thinks; the one where he could say anything and Dream would find it funny.

It’s his favorite Dream-mood by far. He would know—he has them all cataloged.

“I should be a comedian,” he says, if only to prove his point—which it does.

“No, your guys’ humor is like, fucked,” Dream says, clearing his throat.

George sighs and clicks his phone off, moving his head back so he can see Dream’s face.

“You like it though,” he counters, running his hand over the stubble along his jaw.

Just then, Patches’s ears start to twitch and they both glance over at her, watching as she opens her eyes and stretches out her paws so far that they poke against George’s bottom lip.

“Oh no,” Dream says softly, petting her head with his free hand.

“Good riddance,” George mumbles, feeling a sense of smugness at the look of discontent he is sure that she gives him.

It’s not like they’re in a competition for Dream’s attention—except that they are, and he won it the second he walked into the room.

Dream shakes his head at his comment, but his amused-by-everything-George-says-smile hasn’t left. Patches stands up and hops onto the back of the couch, and then onto the floor, going off to somewhere quieter.

Good riddance.

“Guess she’s not a football fan,” Dream says.

George presses closer just because he can, hitching his leg up higher across Dream’s.

“Good thing I am,” he says, closing his eyes.

Dream shakes his head, his hand finding his thigh. “You’re an idiot, is what you are”

And George might like Dream’s sweater, but he thinks he likes making him laugh even more.

[buubonita]

I'm glad you liked my silly ideas, trigly-bud! i actually love to read all your rambles no matter how long they can be.

I didn't think of Horror feeding Dust and Killer as some kind of punishment, really. Although, it's funny to imagine them being disturbed by the fact that they've eaten humans (an eye, a tongue, a piece of intestine, a liver, a finger, a lung, a heart, you name it)

I'm writing about this too, I'm a very slow writer because I have a bad habit of being too much of a perfectionist.

But feeding Dust and Killer isn't a punishment, but a test, an exercise in trust. Horror is a paranoid bitch who's dealt with some pretty big betrayals and I think if he's going to be confined with a couple of idiots he needs to know if he can trust them. And what better than feeding them blindly! Of course, the way to convince them might take some time because none of them eat anything.If they're able to pass this little test, then Horror might have less reason to feel anxious around them. The fairest thing would be for him to break his oath not to eat humans in this because his word would be easily devalued in the eyes of the other two.

Oh no, Killer is definitely a threat to himself, but that depends a lot on what stage he's in. I still need to refine the concepts, but I'd say more extreme methods to break him out of his dissociation would include stabbing one of his eye sockets perhaps. Or even poking around in one of them as if it could rewire his brain. Can you imagine it? This guy shoves his whole arm inside of there? Sometimes he needs a big amount of pain to go back to the ground, i think.

The anatomy of a magical skeleton doesn't have to be strictly normal or human-like and it's great to play with body horror around this idea!

Killer does weird things and I'm happy to see them.

dear buubonita,

it's gotten to the point that i'm running out of ask ideas so now i have to resort to my trump card: MTT ASKS!!!! what are you,,,,,r favorite,,,,, mtt hcs that you have for them,,,,,,,, even if its worlds most basic hc IDC (devours the mtt content)

denied from the pearly gates, triglycercule

MTT headcanons! here we go. They're not that big of a deal though.

Dust is the one who's been replaced the most times out of the group, Killer being the detail-oriented guy that he is, is able to tell the slight differences, starting with the fact that Dust doesn't know them, but their tastes tend to vary a bit.

Like the old Dust likes bourbon and the new one prefers vodka instead. Very insignificant things that serve as a reminder that the Dust they know is gone. Horror has a bad memory, but not when it comes to remembering his teammates' antics. He feels baffled, not just because Nightmare took Dust from them one day and shoved another in their faces as if they couldn't possibly know what's going on.

A shorter hc is that Horror has fed Killer and Dust human parts before. It was on a "date". Dust felt a bit uneasy, Killer took it for what it is; something new. Killer never stops trying something new. (We get it, stfu with the joke)

Whether or not they enjoy human flesh, I'll leave to your own amusement.

Dust had his eye ripped out once, Killer took it to dissect (but he wasn't the one who pulled it out) and Nightmare asked him to go get a replacement. Horror had to be the surgeon on duty from experience and put the new thing in its place.

I personally don't see any of the three smoking weed 😭, Dust may have tried but let's just say it's not a good additive to his degraded mind. I don't see Killer smoking anything at all, though he might be willing to try too. I'd say it's not something he'll pick up as a habit in the end.

Horror doesn't consume anything at all.

Killer, Dust and Horror can play the trombone. Though I like to think Horror is the only one still playing it.

Killer likes cats

Horror likes dogs

Dust likes bunnies (and rodents)

Killer sleeps with his eyes open (and his little hands on his soul) Horror and Dust gave him a sleeping mask so they wouldn't have to see him.

Their methods for getting out of dissociation;

Dust has a tendency to bite others, but he mostly bites his hands. Horror sticks his hand in the hole and scratches a lot, and Killer pinches others in the face (although this seems to be canon, I love it)

Horror is the only one who still makes puns, but neither Dust nor Killer usually laugh with him when that happens... (difficult audience)