#but they got that jellyfish brain

[muzzleroars]

Michael, the Ruined Prince

Michael, having used all of his power to seek out God, had failed as the Prince of Heaven. He had abandoned his people, absent for centuries on a fruitless search filled with unheard, increasingly desperate prayers and an unrelenting, bone-deep exhaustion that is now permanent. His grief grew day by day, and an angel in isolation begins to wither, to warp – they must be with one another lest they twist into their extremes, retreating into their divine purpose until it becomes self-destructive parody. And Michael had already been scarred long ago by his role in banishing Lucifer, by God’s own ever-mounting wrath that ate away at the mercy he was meant to feel alongside it. Michael had already been insular, something had already pulled at the seams of his soul, and now centuries of failure consume him. He would return to Heaven with nothing for his people. Nothing for the siblings he swore to protect.

So his final thought in a deeply troubled mind urged him to try one last time. That if he could not find God, then he must bring God to himself. He must sin, he must beg for punishment, and then God will come to deliver it onto him. Just as He once did to Lucifer. It disgusted him, to think he had to debase himself to be as the sinners he held nothing but vile contempt for ever since he couldn’t cope with the guilt of the first fallen angels. But his prayers have failed, his days of weeping have failed, he moved Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to come up with empty hands. Less than that. Not even a feeling. So Michael, even as a Cherub who could not, did everything he could to replicate his memories of when he had witnessed God Himself tear the light from His angels. Michael had seen it every time, it was he that had to bind any fallen angel that survived it to their place in Hell. He knew, implicitly, what the ritual was even if God seemed to enact it in one beautiful, elegant motion. And he did just that. Imperfect pantomiming, flawed execution, but the same ritual as best as Michael could copy it. All to himself.

But only God and the high Seraphim can sever an angel from their light.

His soul was rent from his body. His light was torn to shreds by his inexperienced hands. The agony that it screeched resounded all the way back to Heaven in unintelligible, muted whispers of nauseous grief no one could understand. Michael felt himself die, but it was incomplete. He was left in a corpse, a body destroyed and succumbing to all it meant but with him still inside of it. God did not come, and Michael was trapped a ruined body, bereft of a soul, of his light, giving way to rot and deterioration yet fully functional. He could do nothing but take this as a sign from God, one that he will not be punished no matter his crime for being such a loyal servant. Even as his body falls apart, as plants begin to burst from his remains, he believes himself to be blessed – see how he grows God’s garden. See how his crown remains pristine. He adorns his exposed bones with gems and finery, ostensibly as thanks to God for keeping him alive, keeping him sinless when he had so despised his impending fall from grace. But. Michael is, in the back of his mind, highly aware of what he’s become. He knows he is rotting, he knows he is in a dead body, he knows, somewhere, God had nothing to do with it. It was just a mistake, it was just his own foolishness with catastrophic consequence. He is more noxious than a fallen angel now, a botch job shambling numbly back to Heaven when he feels the death of Gabriel.

Upon his return, he largely attempts to hide the rot of his body, at least from the citizenry – he cannot hide it from Raphael or Uriel, nor does he try. To Michael, it proves his devotion, it shows God’s still present love for him, and it is a testimony to how he cannot fall, that he can never lose his place in Heaven. Raphael begs for him to be healed, Uriel pleads reason to him, but neither had ever been as strong as Michael and ultimately, he is their leader. No matter the state he returns in, he is the Prince of the Archangels and truthfully...they both fear him now. He is not the Michael they loved, not the one that had been quiet and stoic yet still loving in return. The Michael that would have done anything for them, that never wanted to lose another like he lost Lucifer. He commands them now to join him in binding Gabriel, his tangible grief the only thing that seems to be left of who he had once been.

Internally, Michael sees their fear, he feels the crushing guilt of Gabriel’s fall, he is violently ill with one true look at himself. He had gone wrong a long, long time ago, when he lost Lucifer, and now all of that was being made manifest, but he can’t face it. As flesh falls away, he covers it more and more with jewels as if that could hide the decay he can feel spreading night and day, the only thing he feels now. He must retreat into his purpose, he must not allow such devastating failure to be his legacy. So he turns on Gabriel. Gabriel, whose light had been severed. Who walks freely in an abandoned Hell. Who still has a living, breathing body. Michael’s vitriol toward the damned hones in on Gabriel, consumed with being sure he is left nailed to the lowest pit in Hell for his treachery. All the love he once had turns to hatred and in it, the other three can see that Michael has been left shattered, that nothing in him truly believes God made him this way. God’s most loyal, left to rot.

Additional information:

Michael now always exudes the Odor of Sanctity, but there is a distinct undertone of mold to it

The opalescent webbing that runs through his body is the angelic brain - normally it is iridescent and transparent with a strange glow, but Michael's is opaque and dull

Michael now prefers walking, something noted as unusual when he returned to Heaven, but it's simply due to the fact that his body has been left entirely numb and so it's difficult to maneuver in the air properly

He is very protective of his crown and dragon-skin bag, as they seem to be the only things left uncorrupted on him

[emry-stars-art]

Have you ever heard the noises axolotls make? its kinda quiet blub!, when they reach the surface of the water to gulp down some air. Anyway any time i see JellyNeil my mind immediately goes to Neil just making that noise

I HAVE NOW. wow I made a reel for the first time in forever just so I could get this across properly, here you go

(Audio from this YouTube video)

Find the mer au masterpost here 💕

[donuts4evry1]

so guess who went to the Aquarium of the Pacifc? (Me, it was me)

[quill-n]

Sometime last week, I lost control and designed this robo-shark-cat-girl......

Idk what possessed me, but her name is RSCG 2-23 and I think she's very neat :]

[poptartmochi]

my spine and I are going to be enemies in 4 years methinks 🫨

[insanitycreator]

ay yo we gettin’ a jelly mermaid up in here-- bro those eels are the highlight of my life

[allwehearisradiosilence]

Nd culture is not being able to tell you where Spain is, but bestie I can sure tell you about 45 jellyfish facts.

[skxrbrand]

To Do List

Khornate Diets & Dishes

Khornate War-Preparatory Practices ( "Khornates in Repose" )

[notquitehuman-creations]

I still want to try that pizza from that one episode if tdi. yk, the jellyfish anchovy grasshopper one. that shit sounds delicious, I'd eat it.

[slime-bro-shiro]

love 3 am power spikes to remake OCs

[donuts4evry1]

Yep, I’m marvelling at the fact that for the first time in ages, I actually finished /everything/ on my hw list to do for a day (instead of putting it off for tomorrow)

Anyways, before I sleep I just wanted to let the person in my inbox know that: Yes, I did see your ask and I am still getting ready to follow up on you!

Unfortunately, the answer to your question isn’t something I know off the top of my head, but there are ample resources about jellyfish nervous systems and higher-level organism brain networks for me to peruse through to give you a proper answer

Unfortunately, unfortunately, I am not as well versed in the nervous system as I’d like to be and I have to learn things from the bottom up. What’s the difference between the Central Nervous System and the Peripheral Nervous System? Jellyfish from the different classes of Cnidaria have different sensory organs and development levels of neural networks, so how does that factor into them being a “brain”? Jellyfish have some of the most developed sensory and neural structures for a phylum full of radially symmetrical organisms and it’s something scientists really want to get to the bottom of.

Anyways, I really do want to do your answer justice, so I am doing a ton of my own research so that I may give an adequate answer to your somewhat complicated question

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Hi can you please make headcannons for percy going on a date to an aquarium with the reader

p.s. would love for it to include percy buying the reader a shark plush and her naming it percy

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson aquarium date hcs

content: percy jackson x reader hcs warning: language but other than that is fluff all the way!! author's note: this is me core at its finest. i counted, just for this, i've got like 12 shark plushies...THATS NOT INCLUDING THE NON SHARK ONES??? i do have a fav and i have no shame about it. its a squishmellow hammerhead my bestie got me for my birthday and in his little description it said he wanted to become a documentary film maker which is exactly what i wanted to do!!! his names nitro, which is like coffee, AND I LOVE COFFEE. so hes my fav and everyone else can cry about it.

first date instantly

bro. loves. the. aquarium.

(he just like me fr)

and its like the ideal place for a first date like you can talk about yourselves but also the fish but also get to know each over and also it's beautiful and-

if you can't tell, i love aquariums.

the whole time percy is talking to the fish in his head while also talking to you

its the adhd innit love

(sorry guys just got possessed by a british ghost my bad-)

and the fish are instantly gossiping

"oooo, she's pretty. too pretty for our lord," percy can hear an octopus mutter, causing the boy to glare at it.

"you know i can hear you, right?" he mentally hissed at the octopus, which just blinked at him.

"i stand by what i said, my lord."

"percy, look, he's so cute!" you squeal, pointing over at the octopus percy was currently beefing with

"nah, i've seen better. kinda ugly actually. just like his momma," percy bit out, glaring at the octopus, which shifted slightly closer to the glass, "yeah, i did mention your mom, what about?? oh, yeah, tough guy, you wanna-"

"percy, people are staring," you hissed, wrapping your arms around percy's and attempting to pull him away

"AND IM TELLING MY DAD, YOU LITTLE SHIT-"

"PERCY!"

you drag him to the jellyfish, figuring that was safe

no brain and all

no thoughts to be had

and percy was more than happy to pull you into a kiss in that dark room, the only light coming from behind gallons and gallons of water

he left the jellyfish area with a smile that not even the snidest comment from a shrimp could take away from him

and you were clinging to his arm, blushy and a smile as long as the nile

after another hour and a sweet conversation with an otter, percy dragged you to the gift shop, something about it being the only way to leave

"awww, percy look how cute!" you squealed, your hands instantly shooting forwards and grasping the shark plushie

and percy, ever eager to make you happy, took it from your hands and proudly marched up to the register, despite you trying to stop him

"oh, percy, no, it's okay!! im too old for-"

"too old?? now im definitely buying," he huffed before slamming the shark down on the counter, "one shark plush for the pretty girl please."

cue the blushing mess that is you

and every night, you take that little shark to bed with you and press a kiss to its little head, using it as a little percy fill in

and every morning, when you make your bed, you tuck the little shark in, ensuring it never touches the floor and falls from your bed

your prized possession from the water boy of your dreams

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey I'm so sorry if this is is an unwanted request, but I wanted to ask for a hero x villain story where the villain kidnaps? And tattoos the hero. I think it would be very fun and dramatic. A very permanent and painful reminder.

I really love your work, I've read pieces of your writing for years. Keep doing what you're doing <3

"Hold still, or it's going to be wobbly," the villain said. "Nobody wants a wobbly tattoo, do they? That's just lame."

The hero snarled at them, wordless, unable to do much more with the bit wedged in their mouth. It was, according to the villain, to stop the hero from biting through their own tongue. So, that was nice and reassuring.

They could struggle, but not enough to stop what was going to happen. The grip the villain's various lackeys had on them was too firm and unforgiving. Still - the presence of hands, instead of cold metal, tried to trick some part of their lizard brain into thinking they had a real chance of escape if they just tried hard enough.

They didn't. They knew they didn't. But they struggled all the same, eyes flashing, breath ragged. They'd been forced onto their back on something that looked a little like a dentist's chair, head pinned sideways to face the villain. They only had vague impressions of the rest of the room. Bright light.

The villain had pulled up a chair next to them with their kit.

"So," the villain said, in an affable sort of voice. "It's going to hurt a little, like we talked about. That's mainly because of the location." They began their work, carefully, and the hero squeezed their eyes shut. A whimper escaped them. It was not a little. "Ribs don't have a lot of fat, you see, and you're quite sensitive anyway. But you said that's where you'd get one, so, far be it from me to dictate."

The hero had said hypothetically they would get a tattoo on their ribs. Because it looked cool. They hadn't done any research and they certainly hadn't been serious about it. It had merely been idle conversation with someone they'd thought was their friend.

They'd also said that they would get a jellyfish, or maybe a small bird.

The hero tried to see what the hell the villain was doing, but they couldn't get a good look beyond the distressingly elegant curve of the villain's head.

"I figured you'd want to be conscious, though." The villain laughed, softly. "I wouldn't want to wake up and find out someone had just done something to me, you know? Makes it hard to process it. Freaky."

The hero swore at them. They liked to think the sentiment got through, even if it was just raw sound. Choked.

"You'll look so gorgeous when you're done, though," the villain said. "Don't worry. I'm a professional. I've done this loads of times before."

The hero knew that. That was the problem.

The villain's super-abilities were unusual enough that it had taken the hero far too long to realise that the villain had any, and that they were in fact a monstrosity rather than simply the sexy artist that the hero had met in a bar. Whatever the villain painted, wrote, inked or drew was woven through with their power. It could come alive. It could influence. It could harm or heal that specific area at the villain's whim.

It could, in short, do all manner of things that the hero did not want permanently etched into their skin.

Everyone close to the villain had a tattoo. It didn't bode well.

"Just breathe," the villain said. "You're doing so well. It will be easier on you if you relax."

The hero swore at them again. It didn't make them feel better.

The villain worked on them for what felt like hours. If it was a jellyfish, it was a truly massive jellyfish that curved all the way up their side. The hero still hadn't got a good look. At some point, they'd stopped writhing in the chair, exhausted.

They felt dazed when the villain finally lifted their head, meeting their eyes again. The villain brushed a tear away from the hero's cheek. It reminded the hero to jolt again, but the hands on them remained as relentless as ever.

Another small, involuntary sound left them.

Their skin felt hot. Sunburnt.

"All done," the villain said. They finally eased the bit out of the hero's mouth. "You should have some water. Are you going to drink it nicely?"

"What the hell did you do to me?" the hero demanded. Their voice was raspy.

"It's gorgeous. You'll love it. Water?"

"I don't want anything from you!"

"Good skin is important to good tattoos. But, hey." The villain shrugged. "I can't make you." They gestured for their lackeys to release the hero.

The hero surged up in an instant, fist already flying towards the villain's face. In an instant, their body froze, knuckles inches from the villain's face. It didn't matter how much they strained. They couldn't move.

The villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll want to make sure to keep it clean, to avoid any infection," the villain said. "And don't pick at it, okay? Stay out of the sun. No swimming."

"What did you do to me!?" It came out through gritted teeth.

The villain smirked at them. "I gave you a jellyfish. On the house. You're welcome."

The hero glared.

"That's what you wanted, right?" the villain asked.

"I didn't want this."

The villain shrugged. "I did, though. For the moment I saw you with your clothes off"

"You-" Words didn't feel enough to express the emotion that coursed through the hero at that. "I hate you."

"Yes, I get that quite a lot. I don't generally let it bother me. You do all look so pretty fuming, helpless, at my mercy."

The hero swallowed.

The villain waved a hand, and whatever strange paralysis had overtaken the hero, vanished. They staggered forward, nearly pitching into the villain's lap. The villain caught them to steady them, hands on their waist.

It should have been excruciating, to have the villain's hand on the tattoo, but instead there was a buzz of pleasure across the hero's skin that definitely wasn't normal. They wrenched back as quickly as possible, heart pounding.

Their fists curled, itching with the urge the punch again, but they didn't quite dare get close.

The villain beamed at them, eyes glittering with mirth, apparently knowing exactly what the hero was thinking.

"Now," they said. "Do you want a lift home? Or do you prefer to take a moment to recover here?"

"You're sick."

"I'm up and coming, darling. One day you'll thank me for it."

The hero peeled the bandage off the moment they were at home, alone, to try and get a good look at their new acquisition.

It was a jellyfish, just as the villain had said, inked in full colour and in exquisite detail and artistry. It seeped blue and purple into the hero's skin, with the smallest tinges of shimmering pink. The villain's initials were weaved into the jellyfish's umbrella, subtle to someone not looking for them. Small but there.

The hero didn't remember hitting the bathroom floor, only the dull feeling of their knees giving way beneath them as it all well and truly sunk in.

They could feel it against them. It was almost as if the tentacles were moving, gently, caressing their ribs. As if the villain's fingers were there, a ghost of a blazing touch.

They got a horrific amount of compliments about the damn thing.

[evilminji]

I Ponder The Humble Blob Ghost!

You think they are what happens when you ALMOST but not quite A Ghost(tm)? Like, you have the ectoplasm and the will to continue... but you didn't really have A Thing in life? No Final Crystalizing Thought that brings focus? Just "ow! Ah! I'm scared. Don't wanna die!" And theeeeen.... *poof!*

Why am I Orb? Am squish? No bones.

Like? Remove any one piece of the Critical Formula and you get Blob instead of Ghost? Different KINDS, mind you, but blobs none the less.

Like Skulker! Not enough Ectoplasm. Ended up Blob. He CLEARLY had the Will, the Obsession, the gory end and unfinished business... buuuut? No green goo to power the creation of a full body. He clearly knows what he's supposed to LOOK like? But it's not something FIXABLE? Even with his now unlimited access to Ectoplasm.

Like in utero damage that permanently stunted his growth. HE is fine. All his facilities are on-line and checking in as they should, for the level of sentience expected of a ghost of his people. He just... smol. Same strength, intelligence, and power as he would have always HAD...

He just got handed a really, REALLY crap "customize your eternal meatsuit" option screen. Like for real guys. Basicly NO options. His salt is eternal and entirely justified. He could have had his tattoos. He paid a LOT of credits for those! Sat for DAYS! Had to track down this One(1) artist on this SHITTY little trading hub, that BARELY QUALIFIED as one, to sit in on uncomfortable overturned crate... IN A GAS MASK because the AIR SUPPORT KEPT KICKING IT... for hoooours!

It was a WORK OF ART. You would have CRIED.

This is BULLSHIT.

But wait, I hear you say, staring at the Blob ghost chewing on a lamp post. The one that has wii music playing behind the eyes. No thoughts, head jello, one might say. What about THEM?

Good point! Remember that formula?

LOT of Ecto! But THAT... might be either an animal or a fungus. We'd have to check. ANYTHING can and DOES die. If it's alive? It can die and potentially leave a ghost. But! Consider the noble Ghost Rabbit! *holds up squirming rabbit that is ABSOLUTELY trying to both bite me and kick me in the face* A noble and friendly creature!

THIS is what happens when an animal: has sufficient Ectoplasm at the death site, a reason to continue living (fairly common. It's usually their offspring, escape, the instinctual drive to survive itself or other understandable base drives. Like love, loyalty, or hunger.), and that all important High Emotions End.

Miss any of these? You get Blobbertson over there! He's clearly a hungry boy! But! Not very DRIVEN is he? Just floating along, chewing on whatever seems interesting, looking for a snack. He's food motivated. But not MOTIVATED motivated.

Blobbertson over there? A peaceful death. Too much Ectoplasm too leave, too food motivated in life NOT to carry over, but? No DRIVE. To DEFINE and DEMAND the Ectoplasm in his little body become sharp and active. No highly emotional state to stir it into action.

Is Blobbertson INCAPABLE of higher emotions? No. He is every bit as capable as the Ghost Rabbit that has savaged my hands and escaped while you were reading. It was, in fact, NOT as friendly as originally assumed. I may be bleeding. Unimportant. Blobbertson is PERFECTLY capable of getting attached. Being trained.

Whatever level of intelligence Blobbertson had in life, still remains. And WITH that? Comes the ability to improve and grow in death! IF (and this is the big one) he ever finds MOTIVATION to do so.

Because you see, Blobbertson is quite happy. No thoughts, brain jello. Drifting along in a happy green ocean like a jellyfish. Only concerned about his next snack. It's comforting. His food obsession filled, his tiny motivation barely enough to move him place to place.

He would GLADLY sit in one place and eat for the rest of eternity. Head blissfully silent.

And that's OKAY! It truly, honestly, is. Not everyone has to be conquers and kings, crafters and cosmonauts. Sometimes you just want to spend the rest of time playing in the sand. Resting on a sunshine-y hill. Not EVERY soul is a loud one.

This is the INFINITE Realms.

And there are places like Amity Park out there. THICK as cold honey with Ectoplasm in the air, gently infusing all the life that grows there with greater and greater chance of Ghost-hood. Even the peaceful blinking awake after that final rest to look down and... little nubby green paws.

Congratulations on becoming a Blob, grandma! Yes, I imagine you ARE furious it is inordinately difficult to knit like this. No, I don't think complaining to the king will help, MeMa.

That said? I can not tell you if Blob Ghost all belong to the same Family or the same Order, but they are NOT the same species! The WAY in which you fuck up that ever vital Fomula results in WILDLY different Blobs! Was it an animal? A sentient species? A sentient PLANET? A complexe interlocking colony of fungi? What was the EXACT Ectoplasm concentration at the death site? Was that the historical levels or the At Death levels? Was the individual under sedation?

Yes! All of this IS in fact, VERY relevant!

And you think it ends THERE? HA! The SKIES are FILLED with Fighty Mother Fuckers! Ghosts LOVE to fight! It's built into their social dynamics and hierarchy! Good ol brawls to get the Ecto pumping!

......Local Blob Farmer would like to take this moment to say "GET OF HIS GHOST PEONIES, YOU HEATHENS."

No they would NOT like to join your 24/7 thunder dome in the sky, THANKS! Martha here is trying to compose some Atlantian Shell Poetry. Blobby Jr of Blobbington and Blobbington Incorporated is TRYING to study! You've DESTROYED THE COMMUNAL ZEN GARDEN!!

Get! GET!!! *swings broom*

And THEN you look not even a mile east? And it's the floating island of Blobs. They LIKE that rock. It's just an ever shifting, accidentally rolling off the edge, falling slightly, making an offended squeek, and floating back to the top of the pile to repeate the process, MOOSH of thousands of blobs. No one's certain if they used to be seals or some sort of cat.

Apparently THAT island is Warm(tm).

So there they sit. Making contented noises, chirping and shoving for the best spots. They never leave. You can literally just... float up and sit on them. It's amazing. You gotta be careful not to get buried, but it's So Soft and bouncy? And they are ALL making that soft happy Blob vibrate noise. It's like a giant, island sized, warm and almost fuzzy but not, water bed that massages you.

Just DON'T start anything there! Holy SHIT are they territorial. You Will Die. They SWARM.

And THATS not even getting into the Blobs that are? Literally brainless. Some people eat those. Which? I guess? They ARE basicly Ectoplasm jello. But SOME of them are NOT? Like... it's a debate. Hot button issue, ya know?

Some fungus turns into Ecto Jello with negative IQ and delicious insides. Is this food? But OTHER fungus was SENTIENT in life and become a whole RANGE of Fungus ghosts, from Blob right on up to complexe dryad like ghosts! Clearly NOT food unless you are a MONSTER. But THEY argue the FIRST group are ALSO not food?

Plant Ghosts have strong opinions and are willing to Gruesome Violence about it.

Which brings us back to the Humble Blob Ghost! Check before you pet! That might be grandma! Or planning to eat your hand! Just as Mammal tells you little to nothing about what animal you are looking at, so too does Blob and Ghost! Stay safe out there! And if anyone sees a glowing green rabbit? I want my blood back! That's supposed to be in MY body! Rude!

This has been, the daily ghost!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

[irisintheafterglow]

Hellooo 🫠

You know when amanai is having a moment in the aquarium watching the fish? Maybe reader had wandered off from gojo and sugu and was having a moment to herself in like, a jellyfish area? And sugu notices she's gone and goes to find her?

He would be so romantic 🥲

respectfully, your honor, he is simply babygirl

When he noticed you were missing from the group, it didn't take much effort to summon a weak Curse and send it to find you. He knew you could handle yourself, but he also didn't want another situation where one of your group gets kidnapped. After the Curse reports back of your whereabouts, he slips into the crowds as easily as a shadow.

“There you are. I was beginning to think a shark ate you.”

“You’re not listening very well if you still associate sharks with attacking people,” you reply, looking at him from the corner of your eye in the dim light of the gallery. He smiles softly at your quick remark and it makes your stomach do a somersault. The chill of the air conditioned hall sends goosebumps over your skin and you refocus on the exhibit in front of you, sea nettles with their tentacles elegantly swirling as they swim about mindlessly. To tell the truth, you’d wandered off from the rest of the group after you heard something about an opportunity to feed the rays in a touchpool. But, you’d become lost somewhere between the second floor bathrooms and the dancing otter mascot. You ended up in the deep sea gallery, a darkly lit series of exhibits showcasing all sorts of creatures found in deathly cold waters. “How are Riko and Satoru doing?”

“They’re great. Last I checked, they were headed to harass the penguins.” He closes the distance until his arm is pressed against yours, the warmth of his bicep helping against the frigid temperature. As you move on to the next exhibit, his eyes track the movement of the dancing jellies in awe. “What are these guys?”

“Moon jellies," you inform him, leaning into his touch when his lips meet the side of your head. It's intimate and it's quiet, a situation that didn't come easily for Jujutsu sorcerers. His pointer finger traces a heart on the cold perspiration of the tank and you draw a happy face next to it to match.

"They're like you." Your eyebrow quirks at the odd comparison.

"Slimy and small?"

"Beautiful, I mean," he clarifies, flicking your forehead lightly with his fingers. "I would sit with you and watch them for hours if I could."

"Did you know jellies don’t have a brain?”

“Must be related to Satoru,” he murmurs and you stifle a laugh into your fist, knocking him with your elbow. He bumps you with his shoulder in return, letting you pull him even closer by resting your hand on his arm. “You doing okay?”

“I’m better now. It just got a little loud in the main hall where we saw the whale shark,” you admit, admiring the graceful movements of the jelly to keep your focus away from how handsome Suguru looked in the moody lights. “I’ll be ready to get back with everyone else soon, I promise.”

“Take your time. I'll wait for you.”

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