#one day….i will get slime decor for my own house

[acepalindrome]

I discovered today that there’s a hotel themed around my beloved Dragon Quest slime. Is this what heaven looks like.

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

Dragon

Pretty sure this was in response to a Tumblr prompt, but I have no idea where it went or who it was by.

At any rate. Have a short story about a house dragon. :D

WC: 1038

Summary: Best house security system ever. Even if it does scratch up the curtains once in a while.

--------------------------

“Hey, hey!” She frowned at me, motioning to my wings and claws tangling her sheets. “I told you you’re not allowed on the furniture. Get down. You have your own bed and very nice perch.”

I huffed at her, smoke curling around my face, but decided to listen. It wasn’t like her bed was that interesting anyway. 

My human was never one to understand that we dragons owned all the ‘furniture’ they so highly decorated, but it was of little matter. I liked this human. It’s why I decided to live with her all those years ago, and pretended to listen to her...but only when it suited me.

Grabbing her keys, she waved at me from the door as I slipped up my window perch, reciting her daily schedule to me as if I couldn’t remember. She left without me, and I watched with a sulking face at the window until she disappeared down the street.

It’s not that I couldn’t leave the house, mind you. I just enjoyed watching her struggle to resist coming back in and giving me one last hug. Some days the sulking face worked, some days it didn’t.

I stretched and minded how much flames came out when I yawned; she would get upset if I set another pair of curtains on fire. She constantly told me she was looking into fire-proof blinds so I’d stop being a hazard. She constantly forgot to follow through, as well.

Again, I didn’t mind. I was her companion because I chose it, and I chose her because I liked her. She was soft and gentle, accommodating but firm: no scratching up the floors with my claws, no stealing her jewelry, no biting her (but biting strangers in the house was okay -- as long as I quit once she deemed them safe). In return, she bought me the best cuts from the butcher, provided a den all of my own inside her house, and pretended not to notice when I took trinkets from other humans. All in all, sharing this den was of a mutual benefit; I didn’t have to defend my hoard from other dragons, and she got a house-sitter with teeth.

Speaking of which.

My nap was interrupted when I heard something at the back door. A quick stretch of the wings brought me to my perch in the back, where I could watch from the ceiling. The door jiggled a few times before the door shuddered and broke; two men made their way inside, bodies dressed all in black.

A smile curled around my long snout, tiny puffs of smoke wisping through the air. This was my favorite part of the job.

Slithering back into my hidey-holes, I followed them closely. They split up, one to cover the front rooms and one to cover the back rooms. I decided to take the one making his way to the living room first.

Letting my tail trail down to the wall, I casually flicked something plastic down to the ground. He spun at the noise, gun ready and waiting. Of course, he saw nothing, and I gave him long enough to tell himself so before going back. Slipping along the wall, I knocked off another un-breakable wall doodad, causing him to swing around again.

He approached as slowly as he could, both hands on the gun. He spotted the knocked-down trinkets and bent to investigate. Digging my claws into the wall, I slowly crawled upside down until my eyes would be near his, working my smoke up into a small cloud.

He stood, scratching his head. I reached out and licked the back of his neck with a slime-filled tounge. He jerked and spun. His eyes grew wide. I think his heart may have stopped, but his lungs didn’t.

Letting out a wailing scream, he shouted for the other guy while leveling his gun at me.

Wow. Brave.

He fired a few wild shots that all missed me. My tounge lashed out, snatching his little piece of metal and landing it right in my mouth. I bit down twice and swallowed, burping up an extra-hot flame at his face. It singed his nose and eyebrows. Smacking the flames from his face, he turned and fled.

I heard a startled shout from behind, bullets zinging around me. I spun my neck, still upside-down, and breathed a billowing cloud of smoke at him. While he was busy screaming and flailing and swearing, I slid back up the wall and disappeared.

A few more shots went off before he walked out of my cloud to find me ‘gone. Swearing about demons and ghosts, the second guy began to flee.

Cackling, I landed with a thud on the ground and chased after him, snapping my jaws together and breathing points of fire at his behind until he was out of my domain. Chuckling, I swung the door shut with my tail and lumbered off to check the rooms. Nothing was touched, the only suggestion of their presence being a small backpack in the center of the room. I tossed it on her bed and went back to my perch; the sun was exceptionally nice near the front rooms this time of day.

She came home after a five-hour nap and plopped on the couch, exhausted. I watched her for a moment, the TV coming on as her eyes slid over her dwelling. They caught sight of the holes in the wall, both from my claws and the far-flung bullets, a tiny bit of scorch left on the wall by accident. She tossed a suspicious glance over at me, which I immediately pretended to ignore.

She went to check the rest of the house, groaning as she did, then came back and dug something out of the freezer. I caught the scent of frozen meat and looked up, the human dangling a couple of fat steaks in my direction.

I chomped on my snack, likely a reward for my good service, while she dug the spackle out of a back room and got to work.

She didn’t mind. I knew it. After all, a few holes and scorch marks are par for the course when you live with a dragon.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

240 of 2023

What are three things that were in style when you were in high school?

I’ve never paid much attention to fashion, but one thing I clearly remember was that all the girls were wearing skinny jeans and high boots.

What is one random fact about you?

There’s a photo of me sitting on a pantograph of a tram. It’s somewhere in my workmate’s phone.

Do you spend a lot of time outdoors in the summer?

Not only in summer. Also in winter.

What is your favorite summer month?

June, because the longest days.

What do you want to be for Halloween this year?

I don’t celebrate Halloween.

When do you plan to start decorating for fall?

I personally don’t see the point of cluttering the house for seasons other than Christmas and maybe Easter.

Every September, do you always wish you were going back to school?

In normal circumstances, this is when I come back to uni.

What was your favorite class in high school?

Anything to do with physics, biology, chemistry and computers.

Do you have a desk in your room? If so, do you use it as a desk that you sit and work at?

No, there’s no space for a desk.

Do you have a hope chest? If so, what do you keep in it?

No, never did.

What’s one goal that you have for yourself this year?

To improve my hand further.

Do you use a backpack?

I do, for work, uni and all travels.

What did your favorite backpack in high school look like?

I had a bag because it’s been my goth years.

Have you ever shopped at Limited Too? If yes, what was your favorite thing you owned from there?

Never heard of it.

Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite?

Yeah, I have three Vildhjarta tees and my favourite is the one with wolves.

What color is your desk in your room, if you have one?

I don’t have a desk.

Would you ever want to live in a home with all-white walls and furniture?

Yes, but with some colourful accents here and there.

Do you have pajama days often?

No, almost never.

What was the last flavor of tea you drank?

I don’t drink tea.

What was the last thing you ordered from Starbucks?

Probably hot chocolate.

Do you have a favorite barista at Starbucks?

No, I order online.

What is one thing you’re behind on?

Physical mobility.

Do you ever re-arrange your room?

Never.I hate moving the furniture, and I’m physically disabled anyway.

Do you share a room with anyone?

I share a bedroom with my husband.

Who was your first roommate?

No one, I guess. My sister had her own room.

Do you ever talk to your first roommate?

N/A.

What season do you want to get married in?

I’m married already, it was March.

Do you own a teepee?

What is teepee?

Frosting: chocolate or vanilla?

Vanilla, but I don’t like frosting.

Ice cream: chocolate or vanilla?

Chocolate for once, even though I don’t like chocolate that much.

Milkshake: chocolate or vanilla?

Strawberry, checkmate.

Do you drink protein shakes?

No, their taste is awful.

What was the last type of candy you ate?

I on’t remember, I’m not much of a candy guy.

Do you take birth control pills?

I don’t see any reason why a person who is a biological male would take them, unless for ruining their hormonal system or transitioning into female.

What was the last craft project you completed?

I usually don’t do crafts, unless photography counts.

Which is better: starting things or finishing them?

Finishing. Very satisfying.

Is your style bohemian at all?

No, I don’t see myself like that.

What is the highest name-brand thing you own?

I think Calvin Klein.

Have you ever sold on Poshmark?

No, I’m not even sure if it operates here. But I’ve sold on 2dehands.be and it even worked.

Do you have a Poshmark account?

No, I don’t.

What color GameBoy did you have as a kid?

I didn’t have any.

What was your favorite GameBoy game?

None.

What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song?

What, I’ve never listened to them. I’m a dude, after all.

Did you ever wonder what it felt like to get slimed?

I don’t even know what that means.

Did you ever name a pet after an imaginary friend?

Never had an imaginary friends.

Have you ever hallucinated?

Guess so.

Do you believe in angels and demons?

Not really.

What is holding you back from living your dreams?

Health problems.

Do you have a paypal account?

I do. It’s handy when my bank card doesn’t work (it does only on Belgian websites).

Do you like your hair better curly or straight?

I like it short, that’s it. The rest doesn’t matter.

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

Hey could I get some head cannons of a rabbit-hybrid reader and the Las Nevadas crew maybe yandere?? (Rabbits represent luck and a shit ton of gamblers carry a rabbit’s foot)

Author's note- Yes my boys! I love these boys. I had some trouble with writing Sam and Foolish.

Warnings- Blood mentioned, Violence, attempted kidnapping, threats,

Las Nevadas Crew with a Rabbit Hybrid Darling

Quackity

This man finds you so adorable , your little tail and ears, ugh, your this man's only weakness

Quackity always brings you to the Casino with him since you're good luck, you're rabbit after all. He makes you sit on his lap as he gambles someone.

He doesn't want you to leave his sight because someone tried to kidnap you after they saw how close you are to Quackity and how much luck you bring him.

You're good friends with Fundy, since both of you are animal based hybrids, though the first time you saw him you got a bit scared since you know, predator.

Quackity doesn't cuddle you very often due to his past love life, but when he does he's very soft. He has his wings wrapped around you and tends to fall asleep

If you were to misbehave or yell at him, he would threaten to cut off your ears and leave you for dead in the woods. He wouldn't leave you for dead in the woods, that's just a threat, but he's dead serious about cutting off your ears.

Charlie Slimecicle

Charlie didn't really know what you were to be honest, before he met Ranboo he thought you were a slime like him.

Once you explained to him that you were a Rabbit he went to Quackity for advice on how to take care of you.

Charlie likes touching your ears, they're really soft and he never seen anything like it.

Charlie likes bringing you to work with him since Quackity said it's not a good idea to leave you in some cave deep underground. Charlie would show you how to gamble and is amazed on how many times you win.

Charlie would introduce you to Quackity once he has some trust with you.

Charlie really enjoys cuddling you 24/7. Your hair is just so soft and fluffy, he even falls asleep on you when you guys cuddle

If you were to misbehave or yell at him, his attitude and personality would change completely, his eyes going dark as he pulls on you ears until you crying on the floor and until your ears are bleeding as they slowly get torn off. But then he would go back to normal and patch you up like nothing happened.

Fundy

Fundy likes that you're a hybrid just like him, but due to your instincts he gets upset when you hide from him since foxes are predators, but he slowly gets you to be comfortable with him.

He let's you touch his tail and ears, but you have to let him touch yours, if not, no more touch.

Fundy shows you around Las Nevadas and even let's you go to the Casino with him when the entire crew hangs out in Las Nevadas during the day before Las Nevadas gets open at night for busines.

Loves cuddling you. He normally has his tail wrapped around you and he has his head buried into your neck.

Fundy will try to keep you as far away from Wilbur. Hell, he doesn't even want to hear his name. He doesn't want you to get to like him and deal with him leaving you.

If you were to misbehave or yell at him, he would throw you into a cage and have one of a rabbit's predators tied to a pole, dangerously close to you, but far enough that it won't attack. He would leave you there for a few days so you learn your lesson.

Foolish

Foolish loves picking you up and rubbing your ears (If you're comfortable with it)

I can see Foolish building a statue of you holding a small little rabbit

Even though Foolish is a 23ft god, they're still things he can't reach, so he would most likely have you on his head and have you get it.

Foolish is hesitant to take you to Las Nevadas, due to it being a place full of gamblers, alcoholics and prostitutes, but he would take you there if you beg for long enough.

Foolish would probably introduce you to Charlie or Sam, most likely Sam, other than that he wouldn't even mention your existence to anyone, we all know what happens to people's attachments on the Dream SMP.

Would definitely introduce you and let you hang out with Foolish JR and Finley

If you were to misbehave or yell at him, he wouldn't really do anything, but he would leave you in a small house he built for you, far away from Society.

Awesamdude

When y'all cuddle I can see him make that hissing creepers make before they explode due to how soft you are.

Sam would keep you in the prison in a cell similar to Dream's, but he would decorate it with things you love and things rabbits need.

Sam takes you to Las Nevadas quite often actually, especially if it's casino night with the crew, whenever he gambles Quackity (Since Quackity is infamous for cheating on these nights) he has you next to him since you bring good luck, he wins a lot

Whenever Sam's upset or stressed, he goes to you cell and cuddles you, since your hair and ears are very soft and comforting.

Quackity teases Sam a lot about having a bunny hybrid as a darling, sometimes even saying that he would use you since your so lucky, he's joking, but Sam doesn't find it funny. (Quackity's aware that your being held against your own will, but if you make Sam happy, he doesn't care)

He sometimes takes you out on nature walks if you were behaving that month.

If you were to misbehave or yell at him, he may or may not keep you underground in a 1 block space with lava dangerously close to you, it won't touch you, it's more of a mind fuck then anything, he loves seeing scared, your face just looks so cute.

[skywardscroll]

divine intervention | venti

✧ word count: 2.5k

✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.

✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!

✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!

Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.

This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.

You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.

The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.

Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)

It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:

“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”

Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.

Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.

“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”

“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”

“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.

“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.

“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”

You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.

“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.

“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.

“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.

“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.

“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”

“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”

“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”

Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”

Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.

When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.

“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.

“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”

You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.

“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.

“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.

You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?

“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.

“Sit here closely, let me tell,

of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.

The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,

Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.

In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,

there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.

The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace

from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.

Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.

She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.

For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,

She only had to meet him in the morning at three.

The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known

was hers, finally, to own.”

The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.

What was his motive?

You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.

Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.

“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.

“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.

“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”

“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.

“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.

You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?

Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.

You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.

It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.

You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.

Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.

You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.

Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”

A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.

“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”

You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?

“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”

And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?

“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to.  You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.

“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.

This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.

You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.

“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”

You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.

“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”

Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”

[crystalirises]

The World Moved On, but You're Stuck in the Past

Ah yes, Villain Dream who does not see himself as a villain my beloved <333 Honestly, I'm not really sure what Dream and Wilbur's current evil (are they still villains??? Dream probably not cause the poor guy got tortured oof and maybe not Wilbur cause... I don’t know, is he being evil??? Is he okay??? I don’t know what these characters are up to) plans so just... have this flimsy idea cause I don't know what they're planning XD

TW: Mentioned Blood, Implied Murder, Villain Dream who does not realize he's the villain and so justifies the crimes he did, and Insane Revived Wilbur Soot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/80235868

He was free.

Wilbur was the first face he saw once he took his first step into the outside world, splatters of green blood decorated the obsidian floor and walls. The revived man was standing with a sword, leaning against it while he waved Dream over with a smile. He tried not to be disgusted by him.

“How does the sun feel on your skin? I remember the day you brought me back, the sun was rising in the distance and I never felt so alive. It’s good to be back, right Dream?” He met the man’s eyes, those dark pools seemingly darker than the day that he had died. He still looked like he’d just recently gotten out of Limbo, and Dream had no doubt that the man had been neglecting his own care. He could only hope that he didn’t have to drag the man’s ass out of Limbo again due to his own negligence. Besides, Wilbur had a point. He looked down at his fingers, basking in the sunlight that shone down upon them. It felt nice against his cheek. “The warden had been difficult to fight but, I guess I just got lucky. You know, I made a new country.”

“D-did… you?” He coughed, pressing a hand against his mouth. It had been so long since he’d spoken. He felt cool glass touch his skin, glancing over to see that Wilbur was handing him a water bottle. Dream didn’t hesitate to snatch it from the man’s hand, drinking the water quickly even if it meant he’d had to pause every now and then just to cough. He hadn’t had clean water in a while. Wilbur watched him with narrowed eyes, a smile on his face before Dream noticed what the man was now holding. His mask. He reached out to grab it. “Another L’Manburg—?”

“L’Manburg is now a fucking crater.” He flinched, a memory of Quackity flashing in his mind. His scars still stung, even if he was used to the pain. Wilbur pressed the mask against his hand, rolling his eyes while a sneer stretched across his face. “This new country will be better. It will.”

“... if you say so…”

“But, let’s not get on the wrong foot here. We’re friends now, allies even, right Dream? You brought me back from that shithole and I paid my dues by setting you free? But who’s to say that our little friendship should stop there, hm? Y-you know? I-I mean you’re all alone now, like me.” Dream gritted his teeth at the reminder, his hands curling into fists. How far he’d come. Now he was at the bottom with Wilbur Soot of all people. No best friends to hang out with. No mother to cry to. No fiance to love and hold. And all because of children who couldn’t realize their place in his world. “So I was thinking. You need a place to stay, hm? Well, why not stay with me!”

He raised a brow at the suggestion. Allies with Wilbur? And with a country involved? That was not going to end well. Dream glanced over at the prison, his throat drying and his knees buckling under the weight of his fears. He didn’t care for Wilbur, but what choice did he have? “Deal.”

“Good man!” He recoiled when Wilbur wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Wilbur’s stare stayed on him for a while longer, and Dream could already tell what he was thinking. He scowled at the thought. He didn’t need the man’s pity. So what if he was thinner? He could still beat the resurrected fool in armed combat. “Y-you know, Quackity has his own nation too.”

“I know.” Las Nevadas, he’d heard Quackity mention it before, and even the warden had mentioned it once. Wilbur had a determined look in his eye, a dark one that Dream knew all too well. Except somehow he felt that they had swapped roles, Dream had directed Wilbur to cause L’Manberg’s destruction, and now Wilbur was directing him. He sighed but followed after the madman. It wasn’t like he had anything else on his schedule. But he wasn’t sure if he could even face Quackity after… Dream placed the mask over his face. He would not let Wilbur see his worry or his doubts. He needed an ally, especially now more than ever, even if it meant having to help Wilbur in the destruction of another nation. “What plan of attack are you proposing? What did Quackity do against you? I will join you Wilbur but I would like to hear an explanation first.”

“He didn’t want me in his nation.” And oh how the world changes. Dream tried not to scoff at the ridiculous answer. He’d felt the same way when L’Manburg was made, who was he to judge a clearly unstable man? Wilbur had stretched out his arms, resting them against the back of his head like a man who had nothing to stress about. Dream didn’t like how it felt to stand next to him. He felt short, weak. He clenched his teeth together, feeling them grind against each other. Dream could only hope that Wilbur didn’t make him his lackey. He would kill the man and send him back to Limbo if he so much used Dream like that. “He let Purpled, Sam, Foolish, and some weird slime monster into his nation. He… he even stole my son from me… the fucking asshole.”

Fundy was with…

“You created a new nation to spite him?” Dream looked away, wishing that he had his old lime jacket instead of the dirty prisoner outfit that he wore. The warden had made sure that the uniform didn’t come with pockets… after the first incident. “Must you get into another conflict?”

Dream stopped listening once Wilbur began his tirade on Las Nevadas and how he wanted a rivalry with Quackity. He didn’t care for the resurrected man’s shenanigans. Dream was free, and that was all he needed Wilbur for. Getting a home and an ally were added bonuses. He nodded along, pretending to listen while his mind drifted to what Wilbur had mentioned. Fundy was in Las Nevadas, and he sided with Quackity. His heart began to beat even faster in his chest, an ache spreading over his entire body. How long has it been since he’d even last seen his fiance?

He should pay him a visit.

 ---

 “Should I add breaking and entering into your list of crimes or should I message Sam and let him see for himself?” Those weren’t the first words he had expected to hear once he’d managed to sneak into Fundy’s little cabin. He had tried knocking, a lot, but nobody had come to the door. Dream had checked through one of the windows and had found Fundy curled up in bed. He hadn’t come there to talk… not really. He just wanted to see Fundy again. The fox hybrid glared at him from the end of the small bedroom, his claws out while he clambered to a sitting position. His eyes were narrowed into slits, and Dream only had a second to realize why Fundy hadn’t begun to growl at him. There was a baby fox hybrid next to Fundy, but they were fast asleep. “Get the fuck out of my house. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to call the warden on your ass.”

“I wanted to see you.” Fundy rolled his eyes at his words, shaking his head before plopping back down on the bed, careful not to actually disturb the sleeping kid. Dream tried to keep himself from prying, but it was hard not to. He hadn’t seen his fiance in so long, and now that he has, there’s a lot of details to take note of. For one, Fundy was living in a cabin far away from where anyone could find him. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, and despite being threatened, Dream had noticed the fox hybrid’s sluggish movements. The way his eyes seemed to blink open and close like he was processing that Dream was really in front of him. Not to mention, Fundy had a kid. When did that happen? “Wilbur broke me out a few weeks ago—”

“Why?” He stopped, glancing over at Fundy who had curled up again, a hand resting on the back of the kid’s head. Fundy’s eyes were closed, his breath harsh and filled with controlled rage. Dream leaned back against the wall, shoes scraping against the floor while he adjusted his mask. He used to be comfortable not wearing his mask around Fundy, but now, he couldn’t even fathom what they were to each other. He swallowed down the bitter taste in his throat. He did what he had to. No matter what he had to lose in the end. Still. Seeing Fundy this way, seeing the world move on without him, it felt like he had been drenched in lava. How dare everyone move on? Did his words mean nothing? Did his actions mean nothing? Had they not thought of what he had meant at all? Everyone moved on, and didn’t bother to listen to him. Fundy had turned to glare at him, a tired yet furious look in his gaze. “Why the fuck would you bring Wilbur back?”

“I needed someone to help me escape from prison. Wilbur would have done anything if I’d asked him to—” He jumped before a pillow could slam into his face, glancing over at Fundy whose glare hadn’t wavered. He wasn’t sure if it was his reflexes or Fundy’s exhaustion that saved him from getting hit. Dream sighed, placing a hand against his chest. This is why he hadn’t wanted to talk. He wasn’t a fool, he knew how his own fiance would react to him being free. “None of you would have helped me, anyway. Wilbur was my safest option. Besides, I memorized the revival book and I wanted to see if it worked. I know Eret and Phil tried to bring Wilbur back before—”

“You’re playing god again. I’m not surprised, you’ve always been like this, haven’t you?”

“What…?” Dream glanced over at Fundy, slowly moving to pick up the pillow that had been thrown his way. He handed it over to his fiance who quickly grabbed it from him. “I don’t…”

“Since the start, we’ve all been puppets in this game of yours, haven’t we?” He watched Fundy hug the pillow closer to his chest, the fox hybrid burying his face. Maybe he couldn’t stand to even look at him. “This whole world, our lives, we were just dolls for you to play and discard once you’ve gotten bored. Wilbur had been the perfect doll, doing what you wanted in the end. Tommy is your least favorite, isn’t he? Since he’s always getting in your way? You hate him.”

“I hate the trouble he’s caused.” He huffed. It felt like no one really understood him. Dream leaned back against the wall, knowing that the longer he stayed near Fundy, the higher the chance he’d get his mask scratched. “Tommy’s with Wilbur over at his new nation. He’s untouchable if I want to keep my alliance with Wilbur, but I believe that I might be able to co—”

“You’re still the same Dream who got imprisoned, glad to know you haven’t changed a bit. Gods, what did I ever fucking see in you…” That stung. Dream glanced over but Fundy had chosen to lay back down again, nuzzling his chin on top of the younger fox hybrid’s head. A part of him couldn’t help but envy the display, wondering if he and Fundy would be married if he had only succeeded and hadn’t been imprisoned. Whose kid even was that? Dream stood up, catching Fundy’s attention again. In a better world, he could have shown everyone that he had been in the right. Then his best friends would still be his friends. Then his mother would still see him as her duckling. Then his fiance would have still married him and they could be living in a quaint cabin together. “What was I to you Dream? I was a puppet too, I know, but what role was I suppose—”

“I want you back.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but it was too late. He was only glad that his face was covered by the mask. Fundy stared at him, an incredulous look morphing across his face with every second that ticked by. He watched Fundy pull the kid closer to himself, like he was scared of… of what Dream would do. “Can’t we try again? I could show you my intentions. I-I could convince you why I’m in the right. We-we could work together! We don’t need Wilbur or Tommy, it could just be us! Everyone’s moving on, and everyone’s changing, so why can’t we try again? This would be a new chapter in our lives. Please. Please, come with me. Please, star.”

“You hurt my dad. You hurt my uncle. And now you’re asking me to go with you?”

Fundy laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck you.”

The fox hybrid sighed, turning away from him. “Get out before I call the warden.”

A heavy air fell over the room.

Dream sighed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Fundy. Goodbye.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yogurt, you are there in spirit

AKA sleeping while dads argue in front of you

[teacupfulofstarshine]

when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out. 

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing 

read it on ao3!! 

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?” 

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform. 

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder. 

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -” 

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says. 

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.” 

“The event’s on Saturday night.” Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?” 

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek. 

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.” 

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear. 

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil. 

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.) 

You have: One! New message! 

FROM: Virgil 

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding 

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.” 

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him. 

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?” 

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot. 

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.” 

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container. 

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?” 

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow. 

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!” 

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?” 

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet. 

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!” 

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!” 

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.” 

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!” 

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!” 

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters. 

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins. 

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?” 

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ” 

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?” 

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.” 

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.” 

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity. 

“Very well.” 

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center. 

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!” 

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.” 

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it. 

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!” 

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.” 

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!” 

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles. 

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.” 

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.” 

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.” 

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!” 

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps. 

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!” 

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.” 

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?” 

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus. 

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe. 

They look gorgeous. 

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone. 

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself. 

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says. 

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!” 

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling. 

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.” 

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.) 

[atomicwedgienerd]

Flattening the Curve

Chet hadn’t wanted to rent the room but he didn’t really have much of a choice. His lease at his old place was up and his coffeeshop was closed due to the quarantine. If he didn’t find a place soon, he would be out on the street just as everything went into long term shut down. So when he saw the ad for the single bedroom with food included, he jumped at the chance.

Of course, this was not an ideal situation for him. Mr. Gunderson, the man renting the room, was definitely kind of a fuddy duddy. He wore a tie every day and kept his hair in a rigid flat top haircut, the kind of haircut worn by NASA engineers in the 1950s. Dotted around the house were pictures of Mr. Gunderson’s son Gilbert who looked like a miniature version of Mr. Gunderson. Mr. Gunderson, a barber whose shop was now closed due to the quarantine, seemed to keep his son’s hair to the same precise specs as his own and the two had flat tops precise enough to set their watches too. 

Gilbert was now away at MIT studying engineering, stranded in Massachusetts as the state had shut down, so Mr. Gunderson had cleared the remainder of his stuff out of his old bedroom and rented it out. Now it was Chet’s. There was always a look of chagrin on Mr. Gunderson’s face when he caught Chet’s decor through the cracked door. Album covers on the wall, some weird creepy art, the perpetually unmade bed. But the thing that bugged Mr. Gunderson the most was Chet’s grooming. 

His hair fell in long cascading curves of a super hip undercut. It had been dyed slime green though now the roots were well grown out. Chet kept a scraggly beard and wore ripped jeans and band t-shirts. Mr. Gunderson shuddered whenever he heard him practicing his guitar through the door, imagining him bopping along and tossing those green curls around casually. 

The two mostly stuck to themselves outside of Chet occasionally sitting in silence at the dinner table before hurrying back to his room to play guitar. The two couldn’t be more different.

As the quarantine stretched into week four, Chet found himself struggling. Even for his usually disheveled self, he was looking a mess. The hair on the side of his head had grown way out and it looked bad with his dyed hair on top. Mr. Gunderson caught him checking it out in the reflection of the toaster at breakfast one day. 

“You know, if you need a haircut, I’m a barber by trade,” he said. “I’ve been cutting my own hair this whole time.” Chet snorted and looked at the man. His flat top looked as fresh as it did the day Chet had moved in. He clearly had skill. But he couldn’t trust his head of hair to a man who thought that haircut looked good. It was too old fashioned, too severe!

“Thanks but I don’t think I need a flat top,” Chet rebutted.

“Well every boy needs a good flat top,” Mr. Gunderson laughed. “But I can cut other styles too.”

Chet considered it. It would be nice to still look fresh even though he was in lockdown.

“Ok, but just touch up the fade. I definitely like the frazzled, dyed curve on top.”

Mr. Gunderson shuddered. There was nothing he appreciated less than this rebellious hair on an otherwise handsome young man. Chet could look so nice if he just shaved, committed to a nice conservative haircut, and did something about all those ratty old clothes he wore. He was the same size as his son Gilbert and Mr. Gunderson couldn’t stop thinking how nice Chet could look in a nice bowtie and plaid shirt like Gilbert liked to wear. 

“Sure,” said Mr. Gunderson with a wicked grin and his fingers crossed. “I’ll just give you a little touch up.” He grabbed his barber’s cape and draped it over Chet before going to grab his clippers out of the garage. Chet rolled his eyes and waited as the boring tones of Mr. Gunderson’s old Bert Kaempfert record played from the living room. Was he really about to get a haircut from a man this old fashioned? Before he could change his mind, Mr. Gunderson was back and the clippers were whirring. 

Chet sipped from a beer as he felt the clippers cut across the back of his neck. It felt great as the curly neck hairs dropped away and Chet could feel the wind of the ceiling fan brush across his neck. He had missed that feeling. He glanced down at the cape and saw more and more locks of hair drop and slide down the shiny black fabric as Mr. Gunderson did his work. Maybe he really did have what it takes for a modern fade.

Chet sipped on his beer and relaxed when suddenly he felt the clippers graze across the top of his head and saw a shock of green hair fall down the cape. He started to protest but Mr. Gunderson gave him a stern look and Chet fell silent. He couldn’t quite explain it but there was something in Mr. Gunderson’s gaze that just shut him right up. He wanted to fight back, but part of him wanted to comply. Chet felt his rebellious attitude squirm back down into the pit of his stomach as he sat there compliant.

He shook in fear as more and more green hair tumbled down the cape. He should stop him. He should stop Mr. Gunderson right now! But part of him enjoyed the thrill. He hadn’t expected that. Some part of him was honestly relieved that Mr. Gunderson was taking charge. Chet felt a tightness in his skinny jeans as his penis grew to attention. He was enjoying it! A moan of ecstasy escaped his lips as Chet felt a wet spot in his underpants. He was dripping with precum with every swipe Mr. Gunderson was taking. 

Finally Chet felt the clippers run down the top of his head so tightly that he could feel them graze the top of his scalp. He was jelly, shaking in the seat. He wanted to say something but he just heard a tiny squeak come out of his mouth as Mr. Gunderson gripped his shoulder and said “No talking, son.” 

“Yes Sir,” Chet said, at first shocked by his compliance, and then humiliated, and then pleased. It felt good to submit to this man. Chet felt the older man’s strong hands as they began to work a thick paste into his hair. He could feel just how short each bristle of hair had been taken on the sides but the shocker was how short it was on top. Chet couldn’t have more than an inch there now. Mr. Gunderson pulled out the blow dryer and began running the brush over Chet’s shorn locks. 

“I may have taken a little more off than you were expecting,” Mr. Gunderson said with a grin as he handed Chet the mirror. Chet gasped when he saw himself in the mirror. The rebellious green curve of hair he had was completely shorn away. Mr. Gunderson had given him a flat top just like the one he gave himself and his son Gilbert. All that was left was a narrow ring of jet black hair standing at a perfect ninety degree angle to the rest of his head. Chet tilted his head downward and stared at the bald spot Mr. Gunderson had shaved into the top.

“What the fuck is this!?” he groaned. With a crack, Mr. Gunderson slapped him across the face. 

“I won’t have that kind of language in my home, do you understand me?” he barked at Chet. 

“Yes,” said Chet, a little shocked. Mr. Gunderson slapped him across the face once more.

“Yes WHAT?”

“Yes, S-s-s-sir!” Chet stammered, taken aback by how forceful Mr. Gunderson had become, but also shocked at how his body was reacting. He could feel himself shrinking from the older man, but also his erection was raging beneath the cape. He liked being treated this way! It was so humiliating, but also felt so right.

“A boy like you should have been given a cut like this a long time ago. We’re going to make this a weekly habit of yours. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Chet, before quickly adding “SIR!”

“Now lay back, it’s time we did something about that terrible beard of yours.”

“But...” began Chet before feeling Mr. Gunderson’s sharp gaze on him. “I mean, thank you Sir.” Chet felt humiliated. All this time he had spent playing in a rock band, rebelling against norms, being a total queer freak... and here he was erotically thrilled to be dominated by this forceful man who was making him into a clean-cut little conformist. 

Mr. Gunderson began slathering the hot lather on Chet’s face. Chet whimpered as Mr. Gunderson dragged the straight razor across his neck and cheeks, wincing as he saw the sheer amount of beard coming off in each swoop. After a few minutes, Mr. Gunderson wiped off the remaining shaving cream and splashed Chet’s face with an excessive amount of Old Spice. The sting shocked Chet and he gasped before the overwhelming stench of the aftershave overtook his senses. It was so powerful and reminded Chet of all the old-fashioned men he had known growing up. This was not the way that queer hipsters smelled! But the odor made him feel warm and contented, and extremely horny. 

“You’ll be using this every day,” Mr. Gunderson said as he handed Chet a large bottle of the stuff. “This is the same thing I use and the only thing my son Gilbert has ever used.” He pulled the cape off Chet and sent the remaining scatters of slime green hair falling to the floor. He handed Chet a broom and dustpan. “I expect this floor to be spotless.” Chet just uttered a meek “Yes Sir” and immediately got to sweeping as Mr. Gunderson retired to the living room to flip his record.

Chet finished sweeping and retired to his room. He ran his hands over the humiliatingly short and conservative haircut and felt himself rise to attention again. The landing strip on top was particularly humiliating but Chet couldn’t stop thinking about how powerless he had been in Mr. Gunderson’s chair and how much he enjoyed that. He would have done whatever the old man had asked of him. He started at himself in the mirror, at the clean cut boy he had become, and beat off furiously as he rubbed the sharp sides of his flat top and the smooth landing strip. He had never cum that hard in his life and he sprayed all over his fresh cut hair. The humiliation overtook Chet again and he realized he was powerless to stop it. He belonged to Mr. Gunderson now.

A week later when Mr. Gunderson demanded Chet sit down for his next haircut, there was something warmer about the man. He praised Chet for how well he was maintaining his clean cut face and how he could definitely smell the Old Spice he was using.

“There’s just one problem, son,” he said.

“What’s that, Sir?” Chet stammered out. 

“I won’t have someone in my home that dresses like they pulled their clothes out of the dumpster. My son Gilbert left a few of his outfits behind. After we’re done here, you’re going to bring me all of your clothes and we will throw them out and replace them with respectable clothing.”

“No w--” Chet stammered before hesitating. He saw the mean look in Mr. Gunderson’s eyes and immediately become aroused. Mr. Gunderson was going to completely tailor Chet’s appearance and he knew there was no way to fight it. What would he do? Leave? He couldn’t! And besides, he was already leaking precum just thinking about how embarrassed he would feel in Gilbert’s conservative clothing.

Chet went back up to his room, freshly flattened and his hair standing to perfection and brought all his clothes down in a trash bag so Mr. Gunderson could throw them out. Soon after, Mr. Gunderson came down from the attic with some old boxes of Gilbert’s and began showing Chet his new wardrobe: plaid shirts, high rise pants, bow ties, suspenders, even a few old pocket protectors. Mr. Gunderson patiently taught Chet how to tie a bow tie and by the end of the evening, he was dressed exactly the way that Gilbert was in all the family photos. 

Chet gulped when he saw himself in the mirror. All rebellion and individuality had been removed from his appearance. He looked like a nice clean cut nerd from the 1960s and he could barely recognize himself. The bow tie was tied nice and chokingly-tight as the starched collar of the plaid shirt scratched his neck. His pants were held above his belly button with a pair of vintage suspenders. A pair of white slouchy socks peeked out from below the hem as Mr. Gunderson slipped a pair of Gilbert’s brown suede Hush Puppies on to Chet’s feet. With the exception of the glasses, Chet looked just like a dark haired version of Gilbert. But luckily he had his contacts so he didn’t need glasses.

“Take them out,” Mr. Gunderson said almost reading his mind.

“Sorry Sir?” asked Chet hesistantly.

“Take out your contacts,” he demanded. Chet gulped and ran to the bathroom where he pulled the contacts out of his eyes and put them in the case. He hurried back to Mr. Gunderson, stumbling a few times as he bumped into an end table in the hallway. Mr. Gunderson snatched the contacts out of his hand and threw them in the garbage.

“Here, try these on.” He handed Chet a clunky pair of frames. The prescription wasn’t quite the same but he could see well enough. Now from head to toe, he looked like a retro cleancut nerd. Chet had always been embarrassed of his bad vision but now being embarrassed was a perk. The thick lenses made his eyes look tiny and the retro frames made him look so old fashioned. They were black plastic with a clear bridge, the kinds of glasses people didn’t wear anymore. They were retro nerd glasses.

“You look perfect, Chester,” Mr. Gunderson said.

“My name is Chet,” Chet said. 

“I’ve seen the lease you signed,” Mr. Gunderson said. “You and I both know that Chet is short for Chester, your real name. It’s disrespectful to not use the real name your father gave you, isn’t it, Chester?”

Chet was overwhelmed with humiliation. He hadn’t been called Chester since he was a child. But he knew he couldn’t say no to Mr. Gunderson.

“Yes Sir,” Chester said. “My name is Chester.”

Mr. Gunderson smiled. “That’s right, Chester. Now it’s almost 9pm. Don’t you think you should be getting ready for bed?”

Chester just gulped. Going to bed at 9pm was humiliating but what else could he do?

“Yes Sir,” he said as he headed up and got ready. When he arrived in his bedroom, he found a stack of freshly folded tighty whiteys on his twin bed. On the back waistband of each pair Mr. Gunderson has stitched in a tag that read “CHESTER.” Chester knew he’d be wearing these every day from here on out. 

The next morning, Mr. Gunderson was up nice and early and he made Chester hand over all his decor. He redecorated the room with Gilbert’s old furniture. Chester’s queen sized bed was replaced with a modest twin bed and all the weird art and albums on the walls were replaced with science posters and signed Star Trek pictures. Chester felt a twinge of humiliation as he saw Mr. Gunderson take his possessions out to the curb but the need to submit to the man was more powerful. He barely even put up a fight as Mr. Gunderson took his guitar away.

“A good boy like you shouldn’t be playing a guitar anyways,” Mr. Gunderson said as he snapped the neck of the instrument. He unlatched a large box that he had brought down from the attic and revealed a shiny red enameled accordion. “You’re going to learn how to play a more respectable instrument. This is one of Gilbert’s spare accordions. Since he has so much time off right now, he’s even agreed to teach you how to play over Zoom so I’ve arranged for him to give you lessons every morning from 8am until 10am.” Chester’s boner raged from the humiliation and it took all his energy to muster out a meek “Thank you Sir.”

Chester was humiliated during his first lesson as he was tutored by the equally nerdy and meek Gilbert. Just hearing someone as nerdy as Gilbert correct him and call him Chester was overwhelming. Every time Gilbert would tell him “Gee whiz, Chester, you’re sounding better and better,” Chester would respond with a geeky “Thanks friendarino” as his erection dripped with precum. He couldn’t get enough of it! Soon, the lessons had taken on a more familiar tone as it was clear Gilbert had a crush on Chester. Chester could barely handle it. Just a few months back he had been making out with all kinds of hot skeezy punks at the bar. Now he was getting hit on by a four eyed nerd in a bow tie. And when Gilbert asked him if they could be internet boyfriends, Chester couldn’t help but say yes. Now he was a huge nerd dating another huge nerd over the internet.

Eventually Chester became an expert accordionist and the pandemic became a thing of the past. Gilbert finished his engineering degree and moved back home. Mr. Gunderson wouldn’t let the two share a room so they did the only logical thing and made things official. Mr. Gunderson called a local Episcopalian priest and he swung by to marry the two nerdy boys. Chester couldn’t believe it. Gilbert and Chester Gunderson were two married nerds! They wore their bowties and pocket protectors and matching glasses every day and even though they were married, Mr. Gunderson made them sleep in separate twin beds in the same room. Each one would play the accordion during their weekly appointments where Mr. Gunderson, whom they both now called “Dad” gave them identical flat tops before sending them back to their shared room for more practice and a fun night of chess. There was nothing cool or hip or modern anymore about Chester. His every moment was one of abject humiliation, and he couldn’t be happier. 

It’s time to sacrifice your modern hipness and become a retro nerd. Join other nerds at the nerdification discord. 

[onlyplatonicirl]

Birfday Gorl UwU

@shandycandy278

------------------------------------

“A little to the left.”

“Like this?”

“A bit more.”

“Uh… here?”

“Slime does that look even a little bit symmetrical to you?”

“You’re literally impossible right now,” said Slime, tacking the banner in place regardless of Lorel’s immediate shrieking complaint. “Since when have you become so nit-picky about decoration placement and stuff? Your room looks like an atomic bomb went off in it.”

“Well good thing it’s not my room!” Lorel replied, clapping her hands together in agitation. She rocked on her heals at a very brisk pace, her eyes darting around the room. “Listen, at least just TRY to set this up right?? Also maybe stand on a chair instead of Andrew’s shoulders because if you fall it will not only kill you but them too.”

Andrew blinked at Lorel like she was stupid, their hands on Slime’s legs as the redhead wobbled to tack everything to the wooden banister, tongue sticking out in concentration. Slime exclaimed triumphantly once they successfully had it in place, throwing their hands back in glee. Unfortunately, that also offset their center of gravity.

Lorel turned her back as both of them shrieked and collapsed to the floor, already tuning out their incessant squabbling. The decorations were all set, for the most part. Light blue balloons were floating around the room, with the tablecloth, streamers, banners and confetti to match. The confetti was assumed to be blue, but they didn’t know for sure because it was compressed into cardboard cones, and planned to pop out when the guest of honor arrived. Various other creators scurried to and fro, adding to the ever-growing gift pile, setting up the potluck and adding a multitude of dishes, as well as making small talk amongst themselves before the event started. Lorel recognized the majority of them, and waved to a few of them as she made her way into the main kitchen, ducking under a tray carried by Nobody, with tons of little confectionaries.

But before she could get there, she ran into-

“Chai! How’s everything going?”

Chai laughed in return, giving Lorel a hug. “It’s going great. I’m so excited.”

“SAME,” Lorel said, accompanied with a slouch. “I’ve ben planning this for so long, especially these things.”

She stuck a thumb behind her, motioning to the massive yellow feathered wings that started at her shoulder blades and draped all the way to the floor, the gradient becoming lighter towards the end feathers. Chai raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I was going to comment on that,” she began. “Those don’t look like your usual, uh… pointy wings.”

“That’s because they aren’t,” Lorel said, running a hand through her hair to clear her eyes. “It took me two full months of studying anatomy and transmogrification with every book on the subject in the entirety of the Council’s Library to get these to form. The number of times I attempted to summon these properly only to result in an explosion of feathers is unreal. Synthia and the others got really tired coming back to find our quarters covered in yellow fluff.”

“Well I like them, they’re soft. But, why exactly???”

Lorel smiled softly. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be kind of sweet because… She always gives the fluffiest and softest hugs. I thought it would be nice if I was able to return the favor for once, to show her how great her trademarked “Floofy Hugs” are. Give her a taste of her own wonderful medicine, haha!”

Chai laughed. “Well, I’D like a floofy hug from you.”

“Once I even figure out how to get these things to fold and move properly? Sure. You can get floofy hugs too,” Lorel replied, smiling. “But we all know that I’m not as good at it.”

“HEY WHY ARE THOSE WINGS SO DISPROPORTIONATELY LARGE?” Someone across the room screamed. Without missing a beat, Lorel whipped around, almost smacking Chai in the face with the limbs she did not quite have the hang of yet.

“I DON’T KNOW, WHY IS YOUR BRAIN SO DISPROPORTIONATELY SMALL, LO??”

“HOW BAD CAN IT BE, LOREL?”

“IT’LL GET PRETTY BAD PRETTY QUICK IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE.”

Chai was busy trying not to laugh herself into combustion, a hand over her mouth. Lorel looked at her, exasperated. “Excuse me for one moment. I need to go check up on the cake. If I stand still for long enough Lo starts trying to play paper-wad basketball with my halos.”

She and Chai gave each other a quick hug, before parting ways with “I love you!!!”’s on both sides.

Peeping her head in through the kitchen doorway, Lorel narrowly avoided a massive jawbreaker being flung across the room. Ly had been in charge of the cake, and it seemed to be going well. The ponkey girl was having a blast, a tube of icing in each hand, and letting out her more wild artistic side. Her tail curled happily in the air as she drew gravity defying shapes around the cake out of vanilla frosting. Lorel smiled and left. At least that was taken care of. But there was still a lot of other things to do. There were two many bodies in too small of a room. It was chaos, and she had signed up to oversee it all.

Lorel sighed. Why did she ever agree to running anything? The only mature thing about her was her physical age. Time to be the adult, I guess.

Climbing up a few steps to gain a slight leverage and trying not to trip over her new way-too-large wings, she clapped her hands to quell the silence. She soon had the attention of the room.

“OKAY,” she began. “HERE’S HOW THIS IS GONNA GO BEFORE MY WIFE ARRIVES—”

A single, large breath in.

“Lyn and Lynn, take watch outside for her. Blossom, make sure everyone’s got a party hat, and help Shadow and Template with the paintings if they need any. Lucky and Achro keep the streets secure, we don’t want any blockheads ruining our big day. Dey, Launch, Template, Poggers, Lily, both Alexes, Rawlyx and Zen are on exterior decoration duty. I want every corner of the roof tied with decorations. Ly’s finishing the cake, and she’ll need a handful of people to aid her in setting everything up. Smartie can attend to that, as well as Diamond. Slime and Andrew, I know I’m asking the impossible, but your job is to not be stupid for like - at least 2 minutes. AT LEAST. Everyone else find a good hiding spot and no shoving or pushing or summoning ancient celestial daggers or transforming into a five headed demons. Or you’re getting kicked out of the party. Scrub, be my monitor, would you? And Otter’s job is to keep being absolutely adorable and precious. Are we all clear?”

The whole building cheered, and Lorel finally sighed. Right next to her was Otter, who she promptly scooped up in her arms and kissed on the forehead with a very loud “mwah” to follow. Otter happily closed their eyes – a pseudo-smile.

“OKAY THEN. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING AROUND FOR??? LET’S MOVE IT, LOSERS! GO GO GO GO GO!”

Everyone quickly bustled about, and Lorel set Otter back on the floor once again. Creators of every shape and size scrambled about, trying to find places to hide, and all the lights were shut off when the two Lyn(n)s gave the cue

“She’s coming she’s coming!”

The house went completely silent, save for the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

The handle turned-

And all the light’s clicked on. Everyone jumped up from behind the couch, and light blue confetti flew everywhere as everyone screamed in unison.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHANDY!!!!!!!!!”

--------------------------

HAPPY BIRTH SHANDYYYYYYYY ILSYM SORRY I DIDNT FINISH THIS YESTERDAY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

IM GONNA TAG THE MAIN PPL IN THIS FIC BC IM A LITTLE BIT PRESSED FOR TIME RN AND I DONT HAVE TIME TO TAG EVERYONE BUT ILL LINK IT SO AAAAAAA

Mainly Featuring:

@andrewture @156lemongummies @greetings-and-yeetings @chais-chaos-corner @puuuddiing @lookyeekiti

AS WELL AS THE AMAZING @shandycandy278 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ILYSMMM

This fic takes place in @creatorverse

[ranmanjuu]

not a request but can you imagine oda forces trying to play smash against the anti-oda or they all play minecraft together

i’ll expose myself here. i have never ever played smash (although minecraft steve being announced is super pog) so i can’t tell ya that part bud. but i can with the blok game. (disclaimer that this request was made after i closed it yet my heart said No, you actually Want to do this so here i am. most probably will be short).

‎

welcome folks, to SengokuSMP.

oda forces:

—nobunaga:

would be the one that steals your iron and shit. commits thefts willy nilly, and no one is exempt from this. if he needs it, he’ll get it with or without your consent.

would kill an iron golem for the few iron it gives

before he got his own base (cause i think he’d just spend most of his time mining and getting materials to protect himself) he’s probably just barge in the nearest bed and sleep in it, regardless of the owner.

his base would probably be built by hideyoshi or sumthn.

he prefers playing pvp more than just survival. since mc placed a kind of restriction for the end (and therefore blocking them from completing the game), he goes onto servers and practice his battles even in a block game.

1.9 axe-shield pvp. he’s tactical in knowing when to strike and block and to back down, and is immaculate with his crits.

—hideyoshi:

probably spends the first few days around nobunaga to protect him. he always fights off the mobs near him even if nobunaga can handle himself.

always reminds people to sleep every night, so that the phantoms don’t come. even though a lot of the players prefer to just stay up.

built a base for nobunaga near his mine cause he needs A Place and not just mooch furnaces and beds from other people.

spawned iron golems for “protection” but nobunaga keeps killing them cause it just gets in the way

would be the one to make mines 4 blocks high so you don’t Bump your head thing, probably like 3 block width and even staircases. would also be the one to make a safety railing across any bridges he finds.

if an ally, he’d greet new players and give them some extra stuff so that they have Something to start off with

i feel like he’d be a pve player idk why

—mitsuhide:

no one knows where he is most of the time. nor his base.

unless you see his nametag (which, most of the time, he’ll see yours first) it’s kinda hard to find him when he’s off and alone.

mf is the black market of the server. whatever potions, potion ingredients, or shit like that, he has. he probably owns like several wither skulls enough to summon a wither.

he would sneak around when mc is mining and just like. scare the shit out of them. the cave noises don’t help.

(the newest screenshot hasn’t been released yet but,) y’all know the warden? the new mob? cause it’s reliant on sounds, if anyone is ever in its proximity he’d throw like snowballs at them so that it goes after them. little shit.

bow skills?? perfect. even in a game his accuracy is spot on. you know those obstacles people make with like slime blocks and maybe mlg 360s? mf can do that

he probably knows enough redstone to make traps, too.

somehow knows what everyone has/doesn’t have.

—masamune:

prank ass bitch.

he probably has like a Source of tnts in his base or something. if anyone is moving out of their old base, he’ll either blow it up or burn it, whether they wanted to or not.

fuck it. he’ll do it even if you’re not moving.

probably doesn’t often sleep and would rather fight off the phantoms than anything.

he probably wants to defeat the dragon quick, cause it’s supposed to be the game’s ultimate goal. but because of the previous restrictions you put, he just goes off and fights other players (cough kenshin, nobunaga)

and when he does kill you, expect like half of your items to not be returned.

also one of the casual thieves in the server. he just doesn’t care that it Belongs to someone and just yoinks

also a pvp player, although i find him leaning more to 1.8 style. he will jitter click you out of existence.

has dogs because idk he gives off that vibe also they Attack.

—ieyasu:

does not log on much lol. he got on once and then Never Again. it’s only when you ask him that he begrudgingly does get in in his own contrarian way.

definitely goes wayy far out for more isolation cause he doesn’t want to get caught up with whatever shit masamune has.

the only major thing he did besides mining and everything was that he got a cat. and almost no one knows about it, other than you because:

“ieyasu has made the advancement [Best Friends Forever]!”

“mc: :OOOOO!!!!”

yeah, you never told anyone.

the longest time that he logged in at first was probably when he found out that cats sleep in beds and just. sat there as the night goes by in his bunker just watching and hearing it purr. he’s a bit irritated when the others tell him to sleep, but then see that the cat went and slept on him that secretly made his heart soft.

and then you insisted on going to his base which took a considerable amount of time, and even with his denying, you decide to decorate and expand his base! you also got to name the cat, but you never knew since you just said like “i’d name it [...]!” and later ieyasu found a name tag and actually did name it that.

—mitsunari:

he doesn’t run a lot i don’t feel. primarily because he was wonky with the controls from the start.

i feel like he’d have the brain to be a redstone engineer. he spends more time like, making those cool machines than anything (probably those that’d help out everyone like an automated farm, etc.)

thing is he forgot that he could die, so most of the time he’s just starve to death without even noticing it.

much like in real life, he always forgets to sleep. and that’s why phantoms are his number 2 in his cause of deaths.

doesn’t have an actual base. hideyoshi built a small one for him, but mitsunari kind of never uses it and just logs off on the spot. at this point it just became a part of the main buildings for everyone or something.

he doesn’t do an awful a lot of collecting and often asks others for some. and when he is given it, he goes “thank you ^^ <3″ and does like the happy-shift thing. it’s honestly too cute for it to be just pixels.

probably knows a lot about minecraft stuff too, it’s just that he never uses any of it.

—ranmaru:

he was so excited the first time you told him that he was invited to the smp of sengoku warlords! would probably frequent the most.

i think he’d just vibe really. not exactly going extremely into pve or pvp or redstone or building, he plays it at a very slow place and more like an animal crossing player would.

like, he builds a small farm and stuff. it isn’t as efficient as mitsunari’s, but it is what it is. also has an animal pen with loads of one animal category and he tends to let people use it with the exclusion of some (coughs masamune) as long as they breed them again or something.

and while he doesn’t go for the big projects, he is kind of a builder? he has the Aesthetic sense while building his house and stuff yk. would maybe lean into the cute, cottagecore stuff.

favorite food in game is probably cake! it takes more effort than most other foods and it just looks cute so he likes making them.

totally has shaders on.

is scared shitless of cave noises at times. you could play 11 near him and he’d just straight up panic and log off.

‎

uesugi-takeda forces:

—shingen:

i find him to be maybe one of those builders that stick to large projects and stuff idk why

he does other things too, mainly pvp (he likes to just head over to nobunaga’s base and kill him sometimes. not that the man doesn’t accept the challenge). would probably also be more into 1.9 pvp because he’s a very calculative person in fighting. yes even in block game.

but the first thing he built once he’s set from collecting materials, was a “restaurant”. for what, you ask? why of course he takes you on a minecraft date. that was the top of his list the moment you even told him about the smp

once the others found out (which was not that long) he just started bragging. kenshin burnt down the building later on.

but he always escorts mc or some shit while spewing out his Lines in chat, sometimes doing the bow in game thing. in response, there are several barfs in chat, and a list of people coming to kill him.

mf likes to combat log on kenshin when he’s on a Killing Spree for the shits and giggles.

—kenshin:

first time you told him about it, he was very happy to learn something about mc’s modern times, even if it’s a children’s game. unfortunately, he didn’t know what an ‘smp’ meant.

so when he logged on and saw that there were Other people, his smile turned into a deadly frown as he just began punching them to death. he only stopped when they ran off and you intervened.

he tried having you stick around longer when you were giving him a tutorial of how to play the game.

at first he only collected material to get stronger. and by that only sword because he sees no need in getting armor (he doesn’t die in battle irl, he can’t die in a simple game). but WRONG cause he got killed by shingen who, even though he had a stone axe, had iron armor while kenshin got nothing but an iron sword.

he doesn’t make a base (why do so many here don’t make bases istg). in fact, he doesn’t log on much.

at first, he only goes on if mc is on. it’s only when he sees that mc appreciates some of the work the others have put into things (like shingen’s builds, mitsunari’s redstone, etc.) is when kenshin tries to Do Things Too and kinda fail.

this man kinda has no aesthetic sense in the block game. but you give him a for effort.

1.8 pvper. he can definitely do 1.9, but more the former mostly cause his deadly anger makes him jitter click like crazy. often challenges others (consented or not) which mostly includes masamune and nobunaga, and he often surprise attacks shingen and sasuke.

—yukimura:

honestly a normal player in survival.

he makes a decent house, has some pretty strong gear, and just helps around his allies a lot (mostly {try to} drag kenshin away from trouble, scold shingen for being too close to mc {though it’s a him problem ngl} and just being a messy caretaker).

i feel like he’d enjoy tekkit tbh. sasuke would probably introduce it to him and he’d just generally enjoy it.

but this is about the smp

he got lucky the first drowned he killed dropped a trident and it’s been his favorite weapon.

probably tried at one point to build kenshin a small base but he wouldn’t listen so like. shrugs.

he’s a bit iffy with playing alongside the enemies in the same server, but they are kind of divided into two. and mc did say it was just for fun and games and they didn’t want to see actual wars be dragged into this, so he just lets it go and has fun.

he looks forward to beating the enderdragon a lot, when the end is available.

—sasuke:

oh Boy he’s having a field day. his adored sengoku warlords? playing minecraft, his childhood game??? absolute pog.

even though it was you who proposed the idea, the one who set up the server in the first place was sasuke, since he has more knowledge on that stuff.

since he got his bearings quicker than the rest from experience, and he was earlier to log on due to testing and stuff, he mostly helps you with building like the main hub, like the center place for everyone and generally things that involve helping the overall smp.

can mlg water bucket, through a lot of trial and error. he uses it mostly to make dramatic entrances where he drops from a hill and just not take damage.

^ speaking of Dramatic Entrances, he probably has a chest full of ender pearls for those specifically.

although he helps a lot with guiding everyone, at times, he pulls out the ol’ “sleep in the nether :)” suggestion just to troll

ngl he’d stick to his ninja thing and successfully make a redstone-wired door and has his banger secret base in it

—yoshimoto:

the s in smp doesn’t exist to him.

he’s just a collector, really. one of his first priority isn’t even materials like stone, the moment he finds any kind of flowers he’ll pick it up. it’s only when yukimura and sasuke actually Give him shit does he start living a not broke life.

probably dies a lot to mobs and stuff

but like legit, this man spent a long time collecting all 13 discs and almost every flower (yes, even the biome only ones) because he wants to take it all in. nevermind the fact that he can just listen to the discs online and all.

he’s immaculate in his aesthetics. even with just wood he makes his base look really cool ngl. 

some parts of it are plastered with every painting there is in minecraft, or just item frames, or flowers in their pots. every decoration you can think of, lamps, campfires, even armor stands, he has them.

you gotta give him credit, it’s a lot of effort.

he often afks just to listen to the music even though, again, he could just listen to it online.

got into a bit of a spiel with ranmaru, since he unknowingly dyed a lot of his sheep (he did categorize it with color though). and so they made an agreement to just have every color sheep, and put them in different pens. so they just shared it now

he saw the cave updates and went silently bonkers because how pretty some look (like the lush caves? hello??)

he has like. 14+ texture packs and 4 different shaders ready at his settings.

[hottestthingalive]

Hi I want to hear more about the tommy-with-a-camera agenda, or any ideas like it, or any concepts/headcanons you think about... just anything really

oh anon. oh anon the power you've given me. oh the sharing my dsmp headcanons power. oh good golly gee willickers

anyways, camera au:

-tommy's camera broke while he was dead -- it had been on its last legs already, but being in a chest in a very hot prison buried under all of tommy's other belongings did it no favors. it was tubbo and ranboo who helped him fix it: ranboo paid for the materials, and tubbo showed him how to make the repairs. they were going to buy him a whole new one, but tubbo knew as soon as he saw tommy holding it (like a lifeline, like a saving grace, like the way he held the discs, long ago) that that wouldn't be an option. it works much better now that it's been fixed, and they even repainted it! 

-speaking of the camera, i firmly believe that tommy puts stickers all over that thing, as well as everything else. c!tommy has stickers person vibes. someone got him a sticker machine once and he's been obsessed with making his own stickers ever since. he also has a sticker collection. something something the inherent impermanence of stickers and tommy managing to love them anyways, and painstakingly collecting and saving the ones that have fallen off or been torn in a box beneath his bed something something angsty fluff. anyways. 

outside of the tommy with a camera agenda hcs:

-you know how when you spend enough time around people you start to pick up on their mannerisms? spend enough time around bad and you'll eventually accidentally pick up his cursing aversion and his substitute cursing. there was a point where the whole eggpire called their enemies muffinheads. 

-tubbo and ranboo make a point out of always putting michael to bed at night. because they can't always both be there but want to make sure it happens, they'll coordinate ahead of time and message each other, but also have a calendar in the kitchen in snowchester to mark down whether or not they'll be able to do it that night. although the calendar was originally used solely for michael’s bedtime routine, they started using it for other stuff, too: holidays and anniversaries and events and everything in between. ranboo keeps that same calendar copied down in his memory book. they let michael decorate the days of it when he's bored.

-techno likes to joke about phil chronically adopting kids, and threatens to send him to adopters' anonymous, so in retaliation, phil pokes fun about how techno's got a veritable zoo of pets, and how he should “start charging admission to his house at this rate”. neither of them like to talk about tommy much, but both of them have just narrowly avoided bringing him up in their ribbing (techno as an example of phil's terrible taste in adoptive children, phil as an example of techno's issue with adopting pets -- "even tommy was essentially a raccoon!"). 

-i am a sucker for techno and tubbo's dynamic, and so i am constantly having thoughts about what might happen if they became friends in canon. think about that concept for two seconds and tell me it doesn't make you whether fear for your life and/or fill you with pure chaotic glee. anyways tubbo "battlebox ace extraordinare" "was beating tommy before the 'discs were worth more than you ever were' thing" "genuinely a brilliant pvper" underscore sparring with/being trained by technoblade is a very fun idea.

-i also love the idea of techno or phil trying to give tubbo a shovel talk and him giving them one instead. in general the idea of phil and techno being mildly terrified of tubbo but unable/unwilling to do anything about it fills me with glee because i just imagine a scenario in the far-off future where techno, ranboo, phil and tubbo are all standing off against someone and techno's just standing in the background letting tubbo do his thing because he genuinely believes that terrifying teenager could easily kill a man. all for c!techno being team "genuinely believes tubbo could do anything and would be surprised and a little offended if you said otherwise". i think these grown men who are colloquially considered gods should fear this 5′6 teenager. as a treat

-quackity keeps his engagement rings in a safe with the deed to las nevadas, his contracts with the members of it, and his old marriage papers to schlatt. only slime knows where they are. some nights, he’ll take them out of the safe and turn them over in his fingers, wondering what went wrong. 

-speaking of slime, i firmly believe that, in an attempt to introduce him to human culture, quackity sat him down in front of a tv and told him to go to town. quackity initially set the tv to documentary channels, national geographic and all that, but things went downhill as soon as slime discovered cable television. he's watched so many sitcoms. partially because of this, slime is CONVINCED that quackity, karl and sapnap are having some dramatic dispute that will be solved in "the next few episodes" or that they are secretly still together and have to hide their relationship for the time being for some unknown reason. also, slime now talks like someone in a 70s or 80s sitcom a lot of the time, and, because he's not human, can make Definitely Not Human noises, including playing a laugh track or a dramatic sound effect. this does not go over well when he's in political meetings with quackity. 

-karl's been doing not so great lately. he swears he's lost something, that he's forgotten something hugely important -- but any time he tries to figure out what it is, he gets distracted, usually by another bout of time travel. it's odd, he thinks, how often sapnap mentions quackity -- almost as if he's more important to them than karl remembers -- and then karl forgets again. maybe i should start keeping a memory book, he muses, and then wonders where he got that idea from, and then he's distracted by plans for a new build in kinoko, and he forgets about even his memory issues for the time being. he thinks that he might have lost something. and then he forgets even that. 

-puffy and sam, after breaking free of the eggs' control, could still hear it in their heads sometimes, promising things, screaming at them, threatening everyone they loved. puffy dealt with her nightmares by visiting her children and setting up an appointment with someone in another server for online therapy -- sam dealt with his by sleeping less and working at the prison more and more and more. one of those methods was far more effective than the other, and sam's lack of sleep has continued even with the egg gone, which has done him no favors.

-is purpled an alien? is purpled just some dude who likes space? what even is a purpled? no one knows but there’s loads of conspiracy theories running around about the guy. he’s just vibing and doesn’t really care but he does like to encourage some of the ones he thinks are funniest. 

-thanks to wilbur “how confusing and convoluted can i make my family tree” soot, people are, in fact, super fucking confused about wilbur & phil & fundy’s family. phil, after initially being annoyed about it, decided to just go with the chaos and has somehow made it worse. there’s a running joke in the smp now that if someone doesn’t know their family/doesn’t have a family/is just friends with wil, fundy or phil, they’re “on the soot family tree”. 

i’ve got more headcanons (i could ramble about dsmp stuff for ages, it’s truly insane) but i’ll leave it here for now. hope you enjoy, anon!

[winterknight1087]

The Trash Pizza Wasn’t Worth It

Summary:  After accidentally traumatizing Patton in a failed prank for his twin, Remus ends up getting into a fight and ends up in the hospital.

Word Count: 2912

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fight mention, hospital, mention of medication, food mentions, injury mentions, tarantula, Remus has some intrusive thoughts, murder mentions due to those intrusive thoughts, cursing

Pairings: platonic sides, brotherly creativitwins

AO3 Link       My Writing

@franthehorsegir I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was interesting coming up with ways to try and incorporate all your gift wishes and I hope I did it justice! Happy Holidays!

Pranks were a very common phenomenon around the house. The two main culprits were almost always the twins, each trying to one up the other’s last prank. Everyone has accidentally fallen victim to the twins’ pranks at least once a week. A bucket of soap water dumped on Virgil’s head. The Crofters being traded out for what Logan swears was bubblegum toothpaste flavored jello. Patton got hit with a full-on cake, though he got to eat the rest so it was mostly OK. One time, the twins teamed up on Janus and they have never felt more fear than watching Janus stare them in the eyes as he drank the coffee mixed with salt instead of sweetener, acting as if that were his normal drink. Safe to say the coffee was never a victim of the pranks again at least.

Occasionally, a twin would go too far though. Once Roman shaved off Remus’s mustache, while Remus was fast asleep on the couch. Remus was livid and refused to go anywhere until it grew back. Remus had once accidentally knocked Roman unconscious with his inflatable mace. The others were terrified that Roman was extremely hurt, but once he woke up, he was fine, thankfully. However, one prank mishap will live on as the ultimate disaster prank…

 ***

 “You are going to sit here and wait for RoRo and then jump at him, okay?” Remus whispered to the giant tarantula, currently housed in an empty Crofters jar.

He set the creature down as he replaced the current jar with the prank one. He made sure that it didn’t look suspicious before setting up the rest of the prank. Remus carefully lined a tripwire directly behind where he expected Roman to be. He hid a camera behind the toaster to record the entire incident. The icing on top was a special sticky slime that Remus set up to dump on Roman once he tripped over the wire.

Remus hid in the pantry, waiting for Roman to come down for his afternoon snack. If it had been Roman, or any of the others, the prank would have been fine. Logan and Virgil would be momentarily surprised but wouldn’t do much more than look startled. Janus would have hunted Remus down and stole his fake deodorants as punishment. But no…

A high-pitched scream shot through the house as the sound of glass shattered on the ground. Remus was rushing out of his hiding spot in time to see Patton trip over the wire, onto the broken glass. His eyes were locked on the tarantula and when it moved barely a hair, Patton was screaming again as he scrambled backwards, not aware of the glass. When the slime fell, that was it for Patton. He let out another scream as he scrambled to his feet, frantically trying to get the ‘spiders’ off of him as he ran out of the kitchen.

Remus could hear rushing footsteps and Patton screaming about the ‘creepy crawly death dealers’ in the kitchen. The chaotic rat knew he was about to get into major trouble, so he started cleaning up the kitchen, particularly going after the tarantula first. Once it was in a box to give to Virgil later, Remus started sweeping up the broken glass, thoughts about how dead he was running through his head.

Honestly, the five minutes it took Janus to come down to scold Remus seemed longer than normal scolding intervals. But Janus appeared, caped PJs and bowler sleep hat revealing the snake had been taking a nap when awoken to screams. And one thing with Janus was that no one was allowed to interrupt his nap time unless it was a true emergency. Remus gulped seeing the furious man storm into the kitchen.

Let’s just say that Janus wasn’t his usual suave, collected self when he is rudely awoken by screams.

“I will give you exactly ten seconds to explain why you terrified Patton with a shower of spiders.”

“It was one tarantula and slime! It was a prank for Roman but apparently Pat went in without me seeing him!”

“You damn idiot. We all agreed that anything spider related would not happen in this house. Patton is petrified of spiders, even Vee’s spider curtains set him off. And yet, with all the power of your mere quarter of a brain cell, you decided that it was an OK risk to bring a spider into this house and not have a contingency plan to keep Patton away from it? Remus, I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t realize you were able to lower my standards even more than they already were. Even if it were to be Roman, how would this have turned out any better? Answer me that, Remus. How?”

Remus hung his head. “I don’t know.’

“Exactly. All of us put up with your random weird ass bullshit everyday because we’re your friends, but there has always been a line between an OK thing and a very not OK thing. Sending someone into a panic attack through their phobia? Extremely not OK. You useless trash rat, what were you even thinking!? Probably nothing as that useless brain of yours has only one thought a month.”

“Pardon me,” Logan’s voice cut Janus off, “but can the two of you move out of the way? Patton requires the first aid kit.”

The two immediately stepped aside, letting Logan access the medicine cabinet. This new information added fuel to Janus’ eyes, and Remus couldn’t help but remember the coffee salt incident and now really wanted his twin here to bear some of the fury. He knew the second that he had realized Patton fell into his prank that he had messed up, bad, but Janus was going to make sure that Remus could never hear the word spider without remembering his fury.

Logan left with the first aid kit, focused on how he was going to get Patton to sit still long enough to get the glass out of his hands and bandage them while the other was still panicking about spiders. Not that he would have really had any sympathy for Remus as he faced Janus’ wrath. They had all agreed that even Halloween decoration spiders were off limits. And Remus went and broke that agreement? His own fault for angry, sleepy Janus.

“Out.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“Get out. I don’t want you in line of sight right now.”

Remus didn’t even bother grabbing anything as he quickly left the house. It was supposed to be a funny prank on his brother, not a traumatizing experience for one of his best friends. He even passed by his favorite store to terrorize, not in the mood to evade employees to set all the alarms to go off or add random items to people’s carts and wait for them to discover the item.

Go jump in front of oncoming traffic. It’ll save everyone the trouble of having to deal with you.

Remus had already started to step off the curb before violently shaking his head. What did Logan call those? “Intrusive thoughts. They aren’t me. They can’t be me. Those are just unconscious thoughts that come out of nowhere. They do not indicate who I really am.”

But they are your thoughts and you’ve thought of how to murder each of them so that they won’t laugh at you behind your back anymore. You are just a screw up that is a burden on everyone. Your brother had to convince his friends to let you move in with them, and it was probably out of pity or guilt than love.

“Not true.” Remus muttered to himself as he walked aimlessly. “Even for things I wouldn’t otherwise know about, all of them still invite me. They all willingly choose to be in the same room as me, even when I am being more extra than normal. They get upset when I do something stupid. That was something stupid, so they are right to be mad. Not what you’re telling me, you stupid brain.”

Remus didn’t notice his feet carry him to the dumpster behind the nearby Dennys. He was too busy trying to rationalize the thoughts running through his head and weed out Häagen-Dazs Distortions or whatever Logan called them along with his normal intrusive thoughts. Remus barely noticed climbing into the dumpster, but he settled down in the corner before curling up, filled with the rare instance of self-hatred.

He did eventually pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to text his brother’s old friend that he was in their dumpster again and not to panic if someone came to toss trash. It spoke multitudes to the amount of times Remus did this that the only response that he received was a single letter k.

What if you just poison Janus? Then you won’t have to suffer his wrath once you go home.

“Shut up, brain.”

Poison Janus and stuff Patton into a coffin!

“NO!”

Pretty sure if you sneak up on Virgil, you could get him to choke to death as well. Just need to figure out a way to get rid of Logan and Roman and you’ll be free.

“Stooooop” Remus covered his ears, as if that would block out

Janus said you were stupider than he thought, so why not show him how intelligent you can be by murdering all your friends and family and getting away with it?!?

Tears were filling Remus’ eyes as he desperately tried to clear his head. He accepted that these weren’t his thoughts, that they were just intrusive thoughts. He tried all the tricks he normally did that helped, but nothing was working. He even tried moving onto something else to distract him like eating left over pizza he found in the trash.

At least, until something opened the dumpster. In popped a beady-eyed creature in search of food. Remus growled at it, looking for a way to distract himself. Instead of being startled, the creature hissed back. The creature had spent the day running from human toddlers who wanted to do things the creature was uncertain of. It had spent the day dodging cars and animal control. It wasn’t about to let this weirdo stop it from enjoying tossed out hamburgers and pancakes. And if the weirdo was going to fight the creature, well, the creature wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

 ***

 Logan tightened his hands around the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for the light to turn. Janus sat next to him in the front seat, fiddling with his phone, hoping that there wouldn’t be a second call with worse news. In the middle of the van sat Patton and Roman. They were trying to distract themselves by planning the fun activities they could do after everything settled down. In the very back of the van sat Virgil, who’s anxiety and nervous tappings of various limbs magnified the worry that was probably spilling from the van.

Janus wondered if he hadn’t been so mad at being woken up by a hurt and terrified Patton due to an accidental misfire of a prank, would they have gotten that call? What had happened anyway? If they were going to get any call about Remus, it should have been from the local grocery store, banning him for the third time this month (though they always welcomed him back in because he was amusing and took on rude and self-centered costumers so that employees didn’t have to).

“He’ll be alright.” Logan stated, cutting through the worry. “It is Remus we are talking about.”

“Save it, Specs.” Roman muttered. “Until we see how bad off he is, nothing you can say will make things better.”

“Did-did they say what happened, Janus?” Patton asked, softly.

“No, all the hospital said was that he was admitted with several injuries and that I was the first listed emergency contact in his phone.”

“Well, I suppose you would be as your name comes first alphabetically.” Logan mused.

“Of course Wine Mom would be all of our emergency contact.” Virgil commented sarcastically.

“Excuse you, but Logan is mine. I wouldn’t trust the rest of you misfits to actually do anything productive if anyone contacted you all.” Janus spat back, glad for the momentary distraction.

“Fair.”

“You got me there.”

“True, but why you gotta call us out like this?”

There was a small chuckle that passed through the van, but almost as if some invisible barrier ripped the sound from the van, the mood soured as they entered the hospital parking lot. It took Logan a few minutes to find a parking spot and that managed to ramp up the tension and apprehension among the group, terrified of what they would find.

“Pat, you sure you can face Remus right now? I think we’d all understand if you decided to just sit outside the door and wait to hear how he is.” Janus asked, softly.

“No, no, I get that it was an accident. We’ve all walked into one of the twins’ pranks by accident. Accidents happen and I also want to see that he’ll be OK.” Patton answered before admitting, “though, I will need everyone else to open the Crofters jar for at least a month in case there is another giant creepy crawly death dealer in one of them…”

So, with that, the group went into the hospital. Janus went and talked to a nurse who directed him to the room Remus was in. Upon hearing the room number, Janus instantly asked if he had asked to be placed there, which made the nurse laugh. So, with that, the group headed up to room 6969.

“POOPY!”

“Sounds like he’s alive at least.” Roman commented.

A nurse came out of the room, shaking her head. She looked over the group before peeking back into the room and telling the occupant that he had company. The group shared a worried look before filing into the room.

Remus sat in a hospital bed with scratches and gaze all over him. His arm was in a sling, his foot in a cast, and a couple sets of stitches were hidden behind gaze or the hospital gown he was wearing. Despite this, Remus was cackling and being his odd self, so the group let out a collective breath, relieved to see he was alright, for the most part.

“How are you feeling, Ree?” Roman asked, moving over to his twin.

“Mhhhh, like cotton candy sprayed with mist.”

“So, that’s what? Like a 3 on the Remus scale?” Virgil asked.

“I would guess a bit higher but also toned done by medication.” Logan answered. “He would not use a nice analogy like that unless he were sort of out of it.”

“What happened, Remus? Did someone try to mug you or something?” Janus asked.

“Yup, and the racoon won both the fight and my trash-pizza.”

The group froze, staring at the chaotic man before Patton finally asked. “You lost a fight to… a racoon?”

“Yuuuuuuuuup.”

“Remus,” Roman sighed. “You are such an idiot. Don’t do something like this again. You scared all of us to death.”

The hurt one instantly froze, his eyes shooting onto Patton, as he remembered the fact he really scared one of his friends. “Oh, shit. Patty, I’m so sorry for what happened earlier! It was an accident! I was trying to get RoRo BroBro, not you.”

Patton moved over and set a comforting hand on Remus’ unhurt arm. “It’s OK, I know it was. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.”

“Remus, did you seriously lose a tooth to a racoon!?!”

 ***

 The hospital released Remus a bit later, informing him (and more importantly Logan and Janus) about follow ups and care info. The group then dragged Remus to their van before picking up some (not trash) pizza and heading home. Patton tried to join in on pampering Remus, but their friends stopped him and basically forced the happy pappy Patton on the couch next to Remus, reminding him that he was also hurt and on the pampering list. So, instead Patton curled up and cuddled Remus while the other four went around prepping snacks, movies, games, and whatever else they could scrounge up to make sure the chaotic rat and pun-tastic father-figure were entertained.

Soon enough, Remus was surrounded by the group of people he considered his family (brother, what brother? Remus obviously doesn’t have a twin brother named Roman. That’s just his friend Wroammin). They weren’t going to let Remus live down the fact he lost a fight to a racoon, but how could he stop them making fun of it? It was hilarious and even more, they were checking on him every hour to make sure he was alright and comfortable, so they deserved a good laugh.

And if Remus’ brain tried to throw a couple intrusive thoughts at him, they didn’t stand a chance against the love surrounding Remus. Those weren’t his thoughts because his thoughts were focused on listening to Roman and Virgil argue about Disney meanings, cuddling Patton and waiting for Logan and Janus to return from the kitchen with drinks for everyone. How could disturbing thoughts harm him when he was feeling loved despite all of his failings?

“Remus, Thomas just texted me saying you were in their dumpster earlier. Did you really lose a fight with a racoon behind the Dennys?”

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuup.”

[did-he-just-hiss-at-me]

y'all want some analodukeceit headcanons? these have been sitting in my drafts for ages

they're always doing something chaotic. you can never predict what's next

logan, virgil and deceit take turns being the sensible one when it comes to their chaotic shenanigans

Deceit: GUYS YOU CANT JUST INFILTRATE AREA 51! You. will. die!

Logan, Virgil & Remus: But... Aliens...

Deceit: No.

Logan, Virgil & Remus: =(

or:

Virgil: Guys no- You can't just break into the museum- G U Y S-

Remus: YOU CANT STOP ME FROM SEEING THE OCTOPUSES VIRGIL

Logan: Sorry starlight, the space exhibit is calling me.

Deceit: I am not missing a chance to see the reptiles. They need to know who's in charge here.

Virgil: G U Y S!!!!

or even:

Logan: ...Where are you guys going...?

Remus: To pull the biggest prank ever >:]

Logan: Wait no don't forget what happened last time-

Virgil: You can't stop the war, Logan!

Logan: NO- Deceit back me up here, you know this is a bad idea as much as I do!

Deceit, with arms full of silly string cans: Yeah, I sure do.

remus is of course, the root of those shenanigans to begin with

virgil has a specialized music playlist filled with songs that remind him of his wonderful bfs

rule number one of gift giving: never ever throw out anything remus gives you or you are dead

logan never ever forgets anything that can be considered an important day(name reveal days, series introduction days, other memorable stuff) and will give his bfs small but thoughtful gifts on those days

since deceit is an absolute flirt in canon he has that one nickname for each of his bfs that turns them into a blushy mess

but despite that, logan is the one who is best at making the others blush, he's rlly good at pickup lines

virgil is actually pretty athletic and will pick up one of his bfs and run when they are in danger

you know that one vine??? y'know, the:

Remus: *growling like a rabid dog*

Stranger: *SCREECH* GET YOUR FREAKING DOG!

Logan/Deceit/Virgil, nonchalantly: He don't(doesn't) bite.

Stranger: YES HE D O !

yeah

Logan will absolutely destroy whoever is mean to his bfs

that is to say, verbally. nerd only has brain strength, not muscle strength (sorry logan)

but, whenever Logan just feels So Done(tm) he'll Release The Beast(aka Remus) via pulling out a vocab card that says Vibe Check

every once in a while The Boys will convince Logan to let them do his makeup

it's always a disaster, makeup everywhere cuz they fight over what they should do for lo's makeup

they're all touch starved

they also know when to not cross each other's boundaries

none of the boys can bake; they're all banned from baking

why? well last time Deceit and Remus blew up the kitchen trying to make a lava cake Remus totally didn't misunderstand what a lava cake was

and the time before that, somebody(not snitching) got a pineapple upside down cake stuck to the ceiling

and by stuck, i mean it was up there for a month before it finally broke off of their ceiling on its own

supervillain analodemus. supervillain analodemus. supervillain analodemus. supervillain analo-

Remus & Virgil speak in cryptic memes to each other, to Logan's bewilderment

Deceit knows. He doesn't participate in their memes. But Logan's confusion is priceless so he stays quiet

the moment it becomes oct 1st their entire home is filled with halloween decorations. it's an unspoken challenge to see who can decorate the house first

guess who wins

we all agree they would have the best debates right

logan has a bunch of secret journals dedicated to his love for his bfs. you can't find them no matter what you try.

logan also has some galaxy slime in his bfs colors that he plays around with as a stress reliever

oh and speaking of galaxies, remus painted an accurate star map on logan's ceiling and he absolutely loves it

deceit has a bunch of snakes and he just becomes soft when taking care of them

all of them are short. f i g h t m e

keep remus away from sugar at all costs, if they do let him near sugar they better watch him cuz he's a hyperboi

deceit doesn't speak in lies when it's just them and it warms their hearts a bit cuz he's putting his trust in them

by taking off his hoodie, Virgil has the power to knockout his bfs using pure Gay Energy cuz he's actually pretty skinny >_> what else do you expect from the strong boi

if y'all want more i can give you more just hmu

[kieraelieson]

Janus’s Birthday

Commission for @borrowedblue as a present for @infinimay

It was Janus’s birthday, and Remus could hardly contain himself! He was going to make Janus the very best birthday!!

He had several fun games planned, and even written out and everything! And he’d been just about to show the list to Janus when Thomas had summoned him.

Remus crossed his arms and pouted for a long minute, waiting on Janus to come back. And when he didn’t, he popped up in the real world, hidden beneath the couch.

“I’ll just need your help for a few hours,” Thomas was saying.

Remus plopped down on the floor, rather annoyed to hear them setting plans for he-didn’t-care-what.

Eventually he went back to the mindscape, folding up his list and tucking it inside his shirt. It wasn’t fair. It’d been hard to write big enough for Janus to read! And now it was wasted.

Well, he wasn’t letting his plans get ruined so easily. He was an evil mastermind! He wouldn’t let his plots be foiled!

He paced back and forth, ideas spilling from his brain into half-real phantoms, swirling around him waiting to be picked.

He had to choose something that didn’t take Janus’s time. A gift then, not an activity. Or gifts! No one said he was limited to one!

He thought carefully, and finally the memory blasted into his brain, shattering it into a million pieces. He scooped them back up and plopped them back into his head, fitting the top back on. And then he remembered normally. He’d drunk the rest of Janus’s snake oil a week ago. He could get him more!

He squished himself underneath Janus’s door to find the empty bottle. He clambered up to the top of his dresser where he kept his beauty things, leaving a slimy green trail. He had to look around for a bit before he remembered that he had the bag of slime in his back pocket, and he’d sat on it under the couch, breaking the bag. Well, Janus wouldn’t mind too much. It wasn’t the worst thing Remus had spilled in his room.

He looked around the dresser for the bottle, and saw a glass dome. He recognized it immediately as Roman’s handiwork, since it looked just like the one from Beauty and the Beast. And inside was a chocolate cupcake, decorated with gold frosting that glittered and with a single candle, burning already, but never burning out, probably thanks to the dome.

And that really was not fair! Roman’s present didn’t get ruined! Well he was going to do one better. He was going to make Janus a whole cake!

Remus got down, snake oil entirely forgotten, and ran to the kitchen.

Roman’s cupcake was almost certainly conjured, so Remus was going to make his cake from scratch!

He got up onto the counter and started conjuring ingredients small enough that he could use them. He tried to think of how big he wanted the cake to be. Definitely Janus-sized. He wanted it big enough that Janus couldn’t eat it all at once.

He looked in the cabinet, and found a cake pan. Or at least it was probably a cake pan. He set it on the counter and quickly realized that he would not be able to lift it when it was full.

So he conjured The Terror of the Seas! She was a giant man-eating squid, and one of his favorite creations! Usually she lived in the ocean of the imagination, but when he needed big help and Janus wasn’t around she was always happy to help him. The kitchen was too small for her, but her tentacles reached inside.

“Hey, Terror, wanna help me make a cake?”

Terror let out a crooning warble, which meant yes.

Remus grinned and petted the end of one tentacle before conjuring a big enough bowl and spoon.

“Ok, you just stir while I add things.”

It took thirty-seven him-sized bags of flour, and 23 bags of sugar, the eggs he just tried to use normal-sized, with quite a bit of help from Terror. And he needed to pick a flavor, which he thought about carefully while unwrapping all the tiny sticks of melty butter. He could go with chocolate, but Roman had already done that.

Oh. Oh! If he did it red velvet it would be chocolate and look like blood when it was cut into!

With that decided, he added chocolate and then gleefully poured bottle after bottle of red food coloring in until it was a perfect blood-color.

Terror helped pour it into the pan and put the pan in the oven. Remus happily pulled out another bowl. It was frosting time! The color was obvious. He was doing it green. Or black. Or both! Both was obviously the better idea.

First load after load of sugar, and then a bit more butter, and then mix. Terror was incredibly helpful with mixing. Then Remus put part of it into a different bowl, squirting green into it until it was just as perfect as he was.

The other bowl was black. As black as Janus’s cape, and Remus’s heart. He really had checked once to be sure his heart was black, and it was! Which made it easy to get the right color.

And then the cake was done! It was supposed to cool before frosting it, but Remus didn’t have that kind of time. A quick wave of his hand and the cake was perfectly ready.

Terror has to help a bit with frosting, but then he sent away. Decorating was all his!

The first thing to do was to put his Morningstar on it, of course. But that just didn’t look quite right. Remus stared at it for a long minute trying to figure out what it was.

Oh! It wasn’t edible! And there wasn’t nearly enough either. He picked it up and broke the handle off, and then tapped it, which made it into a candy. Then he just had to make more!

He set them all at the base of the cake, lining them up neatly, since it was for Janus, and Janus liked things neat.

Now what should be next? Again, it took barely any effort to realize that the obvious next step was eyeballs. He did make them candy too, though that made him more sad than making the Morningstar into candy. Eyeballs were already so perfect!

Some marshmallow fondant made into swirls was very nice to put on top, but it still needed a few finishing touches. A can of deodorant, a banana peel. Remus frowned. Something was still missing.

His eyes lit up as he realized. He grew two big tentacles to lift him up and set him on top of the cake without messing anything up. Now. Now it was perfect.

He snapped his fingers to clean up the cooking mess, and then again to replace the fishy smell Terror had left behind with whatever smell it was Janus used as cologne.

Remus surveyed everything. It was perfect. He just had to wait for Janus to get back.

And he didn’t even have to wait long! Just a minute later Janus entered the kitchen, looking a bit tired, and stopped as soon as he saw Remus.

Remus stuck out his tongue in a smile at Janus’s shocked expression. “Happy birthday!”

••^*^••

Part Two

••^*^••

Remus grinned as Janus’s shock morphed into happiness.

“What do you think?” He asked, spreading his arms wide to gesture to the cake.

Instead of answering, Janus picked Remus up, hugging him close. “I absolutely despise it. Thank you.”

“Aww, you’re a softie,” Remus teased. “And you also have frosting on you.”

Janus held him out at arms length, snapping to remove the frosting from the both of them.

Remus climbed up his arm to sit on his shoulder. “So what did Tomathy want?”

Janus pulled out two plates and forks, and got out a knife to carefully cut the cake.

“He had a surprise party to help with. He had to coordinate everything and call all the people involved. This particular party is more complicated than the usual, as some people were able to know some details, and had to know other details, but certain details needed to be kept from them. And these details shifted from person to person, making it quite a complicated web.”

“And not the kind of web Virgey likes,” Remus said. “So what was the best part? I want all the juicy stuff!”

Janus smirked, cutting into the cake carefully so that each piece had a swirl of marshmallow fondant.

“Of course, the most entertaining was getting the person who the party was for to come to the location without telling them why.”

He put the pieces on the plates.

“The first idea was to propose that it was merely for them to hang out with Thomas, but then came the difficulty of getting them to the correct house. So then I suggested that, as the owner of the house where the party will be hosted has a dog, that Thomas should claim to be dog sitting. Of course, then they were concerned that they would not be welcome in a house with the owner gone, which needed a lot of convincing to overcome. Finally I insisted that the owner would be back before they would need to leave, and that she would be interested in hanging out as well. That Thomas had left that detail out as it was uncertain how long she would be there, as her previous engagement had a variable time.”

Remus nodded in interest.

Janus set the plates down on the table, laying his hand next to one so that Remus could slide down to the table.

Then he sat down, and Remus wiggled happily, waiting for him to take that first bite.

“Just to confirm, this is all edible, yes?”

Remus crossed his arms, over exaggerating a pout. “Of course it’s all edible!”

Janus smiled in that way he did when he thought Remus was being cute, picking a forkful with an eyeball on it to eat first. His eyes closed with pleasure as he ate it, and Remus shimmied in a happy dance before digging into his own piece. It really was tasty. Would’ve been better if the eyeballs were real, maybe a little slime in the middle. But Janus seemed to like it quite a lot, and that made it perfect.

“What’s that?” Janus asked, and Remus looked down to see his list poking out of his shirt.

“Oh! That was my first idea.” Remus said, pulling it out.

“Can I see?”

Remus handed it over and continued eating cake.

“You were going to dance with me?”

Remus shrugged. “That one would only work if we got the shrink ray, but there isn’t enough time anymore before your birthday’s over.”

Janus got a weird look on his face, and then it smoothed into something perfectly serious. “Well, you know, my birth happened to span the midnight hours, so to be fair, my birthday ought to span two days.”

Remus jumped up, eyes sparkling. “So we can still do the list?!”

Janus suddenly smiled, and it was his genuine, excited smile. “There’s absolutely no way we could do that.”

Remus jumped up and down in little hops. “Eat your cake! Let’s go!”

Janus even ate quickly, instead of neatly, finishing off the piece quickly. He covered the rest of the cake and put it in the fridge.

“Let’s go.”

••^*^••

Remus had worked hard on that list, trying to think of things that Janus would genuinely like.

And this first one seemed perfect.

They were in a bathtub as large as an ocean, Janus reclining against the side, fully clothed, as both he and Virgil were wont to do. Remus had made himself quite a few more tentacles, and was terrorizing the little ships, occasionally helped by a splash from Janus.

The bubbles though Remus was most proud of. He’d used Janus’s shampoo as the base for the bubbles, and then made them semi-sentient so that they would climb up onto anyone’s head and face to make giant crazy hair and beards.

Janus’s hissy giggle when he caught sight of himself in the mirror was exactly the prize Remus was hoping for.

And then on to the next thing!

As soon as they were dry they were suddenly in a lab, and scientists were tearing Remus away as he screamed bloody murder. In order to rescue him, Janus had to convince the scientists that Remus was actually human sized, and had just been hit with their shrink ray.

Remus watched in awe as Janus talked circles around the scientists, until they thought that they were the small ones, somehow made bigger when they weren’t supposed to be.

The grin Janus flashed Remus when he was handed the shrink ray was absolutely blinding.

And then he shot himself with it, shrinking down to the same size as Remus.

As soon as he did, the world morphed around them until they were in a ballroom. Not a grand ballroom, no, that was something Roman might do. This was a small ballroom, off to the side of the grand ballroom, where they could distantly hear laughter and chatter and music.

A little group of rats with tiny instruments stood in the corner and started playing music.

“Remus, I love this,” Janus said, taking the lead in the dance.

Remus beamed. “I knew you would.”

He still stumbled a bit, (probably he should have practiced a bit more) but with Janus leading the dance was even kind of fun. It was a quicker dance, while still being simple, and Janus’s grin showed that it was also a perfect choice.

When they were both just a bit winded Remus snapped to morph the world into a calm study, jazzy music playing in the background.

Janus dropped into the large chair, letting out a long happy sigh and stretching. “Thank you.”

Remus kicked his feet up over the back of his chair, hanging his head down in the front. “Well it’s not over yet!”

Janus smiled again, small and genuine. “I think I’m ready to take a break, and finish off the list in the morning.”

“Ah, alright. I’ll go knock some heads in then until you wake up. Too much of this mushy and I’ll go crazy!” Remus said with a wild grin.

Janus smirked. “Never change, Remus.”

[tinkonka]

yttd oneshots

I got sum. words. and i got some prompts to go with the words. and i might try and do them some time. UH if you’re not up to chapter 3 then u wont know who some of these characters r also, best friend squad is sara, joe, anzu, ryoko, kugie n ranmaru. they’re my favorite thing ever.

1. Music - Reko giving Sara, Nao and Kanna singing lessons

2. Inside - Ranmaru and Joe are stuck indoors in the same house during a blizzard, with no parents because they're at work.

3. Mistake - Keiji thinking about his past mistakes and trying to be better, trying to remind himself of how he's improved.

4. Childhood - Sara and Ryoko recalling when they met.

5. Envelope - Ranmaru leaves Joe a love letter with a sunflower patterned envelope.

6. Rain - Nao afraid of the thunder that comes with rain, and Mishima educates her on what rain is and what causes thunder and it comforts her.

7. Chocolate - Kai and Mai making chocolate with eachother! (For valentines :D)

8. Soft - Mai teaching Ryoko, Sara, Kugie and Anzu how to hand-knit and they all make soft scarves.

9. Moon - Shin is feeling upset, and so he goes outside and looks up at the moon and remembers Midori (Tsuki = Moon)

10. Memory - Alice has decided to accompany Keiji to picking up the youngins and fondly recalls some childhood memories at school, and Keiji decides to pipe up with his own.

11. Promises - Hinako promises to Kugie, after Kanna gets hurt, that it'll never happen again as long as she's there.

12. Empty - Nao being incredibly stressed the  night prior to a big art project due the next day and having a breakdown at the sight of her red paint being empty. Reko is witnessing this entire ordeal, and decides to lend a hand.

13. Snake - Gin encounters a snake in their backyard and Kai and Mishima help catch it and set it free somewhere else, all while educating Gin on the snake.

14. Decoration - Hinako and Gin help Mai in the bakery for the day, helping decorating cakes.

15. Deer/Dear - Anzu encounters a friendly deer on the way to school that for some reason will not stop following her.

16. Sunrise - Best friend squad trying to stay up until sunrise but ultimately failing and the only people who made it were Sara and Joe.

17. Luxury - "Sleep is but a luxury". Says a very sleep deprived Shin to a very concerned Alice.

18. Chore - Joe, Shin and Gin do some chores together after Kai was too exhausted to continue doing them and chaos ensues.

19. Piano - Shin showing Kanna his piano skills, and teaching her a little.

20. Rainbow - Hinako being sad and lamenting about how Kanna is like the rainbow in her rainy day.

21. Cocoa -  Best friend squad all drinking cocoa together on a snow day.

22. Vision - Mishima loses his glasses and is rendered practically blind for a day and needs to depend on Nao to help him around the school.

23. Hoodie - Nao wearing Reko's hoodie for a week and accidentally getting paint on it and trying to clean it up before Reko notices.

24. Melody - Alice humming a nostalgic melody, and Reko catching him doing so.

25. Secret - Joe and Sara going around and asking everyone what their secret talent is.

26. Library - Kai and Keiji spend some time in the library together after a long day.

27. Slime - Kanna, Keiji, Hinako and Gin all making slime with eachother and causing so many problems.

28. Tea - Mishima and Kai exchanging tea recipes and conversing about their favorites.

29. Bandaid - Shin bandaging Alice's wounds after Alice had gotten into a fight.

30. Candle - Mai and Gin making a candle together for Gin's mom for mothers day.

is there any one in particular anyone wants me 2 write? :D 

[eyebeastposts]

House of the Filthy Fly Girl

DA Link

FA Link

Commission Info

WARNING THIS STORY CONTAINS: A Filthy Fly Girl Burping and Farting

  An office worker returns home to find it taken over by a filthy fly girl who intends to make it her personal landfill. This is a commissioned story for Mysowrites (https://www.deviantart.com/mysowrites) , featuring their OC Maggie.

  After a long day at the office, Todd wanted nothing more than to relax in the comfort of his own home. His fantasies of a peaceful evening vegging out in front of the TV were shattered the moment he discovered his door was unlocked. The need to protect his belongings making him neglect calling the police had him bracing himself to duke it out with whatever intruder was lurking for him inside.

  Pushing the door open, Todd was met with a gust of foul wind billowing out from his once neat and tidy abode. The smell seemed to have come forth from the depths of an overturned septic tank, every logical part of his brain telling him to turn around and never come back. Clamping his fingers tight around his nose, he managed to power through the heavy smog to enter his house. In a momentary lapse in judgement he closed the door behind him, blocking off the escape for both himself and the horrible odor that had filled his home.

  Moving about the halls, he couldn’t recall having such a wide collection of overturned trash bags and rotting food strewn about each room. Tape had been sealed against the edges of the windows and vents, preventing the awful miasma from escaping. The tacky wallpaper that he had learned to tolerate had begun to peel off the walls from the sheer power of the built up smog. Shuffling his way through the powerful stench and plethora of useless junk, he heard something buzzing around in his living room. Cautiously peeking his head around the corner, he wondered if his watery eyes were hallucinating from the fumes.

  Hovering off the ground with the help of a pair of rapidly beating, translucent bug wings was a young woman with bright green skin. A raggedy, stain-riddled, blue, buttoned down shirt and a pair of grungy, white underwear clung to her filth ridden form. Strands of neck length, dark green hair dripped a mysterious goo onto her shoulders that trickled down to the floor. Upon seeing the fly woman’s bright red, compound eyes, Ted let out a gasp that allowed an unhealthy amount of the house’s rotten odor to fill his lungs. Breaking into a coughing attempt in a futile attempt to rid his body of the toxic air, he almost didn’t hear the mischievous laughter emanating from the monstrous invader.

  “Hello there,” the fly girl said, hovering a few feet in front of Ted to show off her seemingly friendly smile. “My name is Maggie. I’m assuming you’re the owner of this house. Well, former owner at least. I’ve taken quite a liking to this place and I intend to make it my new home. Don’t suppose you’d be against having a roommate?”

  Ted opened his mouth to protest, but was soon shut up by the lingering odor of roadkill clinging to Maggie’s breath. Backing up in an attempt to find breathable air, he tripped over a worn-out boot. He fell backwards into one of the many piles of trash, finding himself surrounded by filth as equally disgusting as his home invader.

  “I knew you’d like it,” Maggie said, an excited smile on her face. “I spent all day bringing my collection over from my last house. It used to be so cramped and unpleasant, but here I can really spread out and admire my precious, personal landfill as much as I want. Speaking of which, I think I’ve earned myself a chance to relax and freshen up a bit.”

  Stopping the flapping of her wings, Maggie sent herself falling into a nearby trash pile. Squirming about in her vile hoard, she gave her body a new layer of slime and filth. As she continued to roll about, Ted became aware that she was permeating with her own horrible fragrance in the form of a thick musk of body odor clinging to her skin. While it was hard to make out amongst the rest of the trash, he could sense the distinct scent of a woman who hadn’t bathed in her entire life. He had to face this fact head on as she rolled up mere inches form his face with a banana peel clinging to her hair. Shooting him a toothy grin, she inadvertently gave him another taste of the rancid breath seeping out from between her teeth.

  “Isn’t this nice?” she asked, either ignorant or uncaring of his growing nausea. “Surrounded in a collection of wonderful garbage really makes this place feel like home. It was all so stuffy when I first got here. So much unused space, too much fresh air from the outside, and not to mention that flower smell coming from those candles.” Maggie shuddered as she recalled Ted’s preferred way of living. “This place really needed a filthy gal’s eye for interior decorating. Thanks to me, the house is almost perfect. It just needs one last finishing touch.”

  Pulling herself out of the pile, Maggie flew over to a corner of the room. Shooing away flies buzzing around the mound, she stuck her hand in and began to fish around. Holding up her hand, she showed offer her prize of a half-eaten apple tainted by dark green mold and bites taken out of it from maggots. Licking her lips as she inhaled its rotten scent, she opened her mouth and devoured it in just a few bites. Turning away from the disgusting sight, Ted glanced back at Maggie just in time to watch her gather up an armful of more rotten food.

  Spreading out her disgusting feast across the floor, Maggie went at her meal with animalistic savagery. Sinking her teeth into a dozen more over-ripened pieces of fruit made a sickening juice slather her chin as it dripped more stains onto her shirt. An ancient looking corndog was stripped clean in a single bite, allowing her to toss the leftover stick into her collection for later use. A half-eaten sandwich paired well with an old box of onion rings slathered in a heavy amount of month old mayonnaise. Finishing a dessert of stale muffins covered in a mysterious, black sludge, she set her sights on a carton of spoiled milk. Putting the carton to her lips, she tilted her head back to chug down the chunky, green milk to help wash down her feast of filth.

  Wiping stray droplets of milk from her lips, Maggie tossed the empty carton to the floor. The sound of cardboard bouncing against the trash made Ted fight against his better judgement to glance back at the fly girl. He watched as one hand picked off leftover crumbs from her shirt to be used as a post-meal snack while the other massaged her stomach. The feast had left her with a beach ball-sized, stomach bulge that made her hover a little lower than before. Her bright green skin peeked out between tears in her shirt to show off the taut surface of the bloated orb. Ted felt a sense of unease as he watched a series of tremors go through her body.

  “I can’t remember the last time I UUURRP ate like that,” Maggie belched, rubbing her distended belly. “Should make good fuel to properly redecorate this place.”

  Before Ted could have a chance to ask what she meant, he heard an unsettling groan emanate from her. Grabbing hold of her food baby, Maggie pressed into it to force out a bassy belch that spread her rancid breath throughout the room. Wiping a stray drop of drool from her mouth, Maggie lifted up her head to inhale the lingering gas cloud. Pleased with the result, she opened up her mouth to let out another thunderous belch. The burp was followed by several others, doing the job of filling the house with the reverberating noise and seeping her breath into the walls.

  Just as Ted’s ears stopped ringing and his nose powered through her burps, he was horrified to hear another sound coming from lower in the fly girl’s digestive tract. Bouncing around the room like a fairy of filth, Maggie looked as if she was attempting to hold in a building pressure. As the rumbling in her body reached its apex, she showed off a wide grin as she clutched her stomach and flew up to the ceiling. Hovering above a terrified Ted, she let finally let it all loose.

  A blast of air came squeaking out of her rear at first, gradually turning into a deep bellow that fluttered the hem of her shirt. The fart quickly engulfed the room, the odor overpowering the already foul atmosphere to be overtaken by noxious cloud of the various rotten meals that had been stewing in her stomach. Ted’s nostrils felt like they were on fire as her flatulence reached him, his eyes a watery mess and his lungs dying to get a semblance of fresh air.

  To his utter horror, he watched as Maggie scrunched up her face and pushed out more boisterous farts to further taint the house with her stink. Laughing at the worsening aura of odor surrounding her, Maggie’s chuckles were interspersed with more burps to add to her gassy outbursts. The sound of her constant belches and farts mixed with her childish laughter. Opening her mouth wide after a particularly nasty belch, she was more than happy to re-taste her revolting meal as the gas bubble glided across her tongue. Overtaken by her own enjoyment, her hands slid over her bloated gut to push out more gas and revel in the layer of filth caked onto her. Taking a deep inhale after a particularly long and rancid fart, Maggie finally felt at home.

  “Isn’t this BWOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRP wonderful?” Maggie asked. “Everything is just the way I like it. Wonderful décor, amazing food, and an irresistible odor make this place absolutely perfect.” Pushing into her stomach, she reveled in the feeling of a loud PHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTT sputtering out from her butt cheeks. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ted couldn’t answer, too busy being unconscious on the floor. His body had mercifully gone limp in an attempt to avoid further torment from Maggie’s stench. Assuming he was just tired from overexcitement, Maggie flew down to his motionless form and cuddled up next to him.

  Pushing her belly against him, she gave one more blast of flatulence to give them a warm blanket of foul air to get comfortable in. “We’re going to be great UUURRP roommates,” she said, wallowing in her trash pile as she got ready for her first night sleeping in her new home.