#mmm brain is a soup...

[labotor]

oh. so they made the kith'rak a scarred-up gilf huh. I see.

[ajcrowlor]

ECLIPSE DAY ECLIPSE DAY ECLIPSE DAY !!!

we made sure to sun-and-moon-code ourselves for the occasion~ ✨

(the moon wants the sun's capricious beams all to itself today ;D)

[ebonyforged]

its official guys

my brain is soup

get out yer spoons

[shoujofiedgirl]

How did I not know the button does gay things ft my favorite girl in the whole world @is-bakugou-alive-yet 🫦😻🩷

[miss-midnightt]

They are such cuties and sweethearts my heart is bursting!!! Also, I like to imagine that the last photo of them standing by the sunset was them learning how to play Blitzball thanks to Jecht and the two nearly fell onto of each other but ended up holding hands instead and just bursted into laughter, I just, augh, this au is so sweet and tooth rotting

there needs to be more sweet and tooth rotting aus for them tbh. Like. Yea.

[cherrythepuppet]

Puppets before Christmas [Part 3]

AU belongs to @cloudy-dreams [This is only going to have 5 chapters! Each is pretty long word wise ha ha]

"This has never happened before!" The clown Dog, Barnaby, said "It's suspicious!" A witch exclaimed "It's peculiar!" Another witch exclaimed "It's scary!" A vampire

"Stand aside!" Howdy yelled "Coming through! We've got find (Y/n)! There's only 365 days left till next Halloween!" Howdy announced "364!" someone in the crowd yelled

"Is there anywhere we've forgotten to check?" Howdy asked "I looked in every mausoleum!" Barnaby said"We opened the sarcophagi!"  "I tromped through the pumpkin patch!"

"I peeked behind the Cyclops's eye! I did! But They weren't there!" "It's time to sound the alarms!" Howdy yelled...."Frog's breath will overpower any odor" Wally mumbled as he poured the frog's breath into the pot but it smelled horrible and he began coughing

"Bitter!" He yelled while coughing "Worm's wart! Where's that worm's wart?!" He said as he searched the cabinets until he found the worms wort

"Wally, that soup ready yet?" Poppy asked "Coming!" Wally yelled as he poured the worms wort into the pot before getting a wooden spoon and bowl 

After a moment Wally walked upstairs to where Poppy was working "lunch" he said as he set the bowl in front of poppy "Ah, what's that? Worm's wart! mmm, and...frog's breath" Poppy muttered

 "What's wrong? I-I thought you liked frog's breath!" Wally replied "Nothing's more suspicious than frog's breath! Until you taste it I won't swallow a spoonful!" Poppy told him while she held the spoon out towards him

"I'm not hungry!" Wally lied as he knocked spoon onto the ground "Oops!" He mumbled before bending down to grab it "You want me to starve!? An old Woman like me who hardly has strength as it is. Me, to whom you owe your very life!" Poppy groaned 

Wally moved the wooden spoon to hide it under the table before he pulled out a trick spoon from his sock then he stood up "Oh don't be silly" Wally chuckled He ate the soup with trick spoon "Mmmm, see. Scrumptious!" He said, Poppy was still skeptical but she at Ate soup...

~

"Did anyone think to dredge the lake?" Howdy asked "this morning!" Barnaby yelled then everyone went quiet As they could hear the sounds of faint meowing Everyone then looked in the direction of the meowing "(Y/n)'s back!" someone exclaimed

"Where have you been?" Howdy asked"Call a town meeting and I'll tell everyone all about it!" (Y/n) told him "When?" Howdy asked "Immediately!" (Y/n) yelled"Town meeting, town meeting, town meeting tonight, town meeting tonight!" Howdy announced as he drove around in his truck...

~

"Listen everyone. I want to tell you about Christmastown!" (Y/n) told the town as Music began playing

"There are objects so peculiar They were not to be believed All around, things to tantalize my brain It's a world unlike anything I've ever seen And as hard as I try I can't seem to describe Like a most improbable dream But you must believe when I tell you this It's as real as my skull and it does exist Here, let me show you This is a thing called a present The whole thing starts with a box!" "A box? is it steel?" "Are there locks?" "Is it filled with a pox?"

"A pox How delightful, a pox!" "If you please Just a box with bright-colored paper And the whole thing's topped with a bow!" "bow? But why? How ugly What's in it? What's in it?" "That's the point of the thing, not to know!""It's a bat Will it bend?" "It's a rat! Will it break?" "Perhaps it s the head that I found in the lake!" "

Listen now, you don't understand That's not the point of Christmas land Now, pay attention We pick up an oversized sock And hang it like this on the wall!" "Oh, yes! Does it still have a foot?" "Let me see, let me look!" "Is it rotted and covered with gook?" "Um, let me explain There's no foot inside, but there's candy Or sometimes it's filled with small toys!"

"Small toys?" "Do they bite?" "Do they snap?" "Or explode in a sack?" "Or perhaps they just spring out And scare girls and boys!" "What a splendid idea This Christmas sounds fun I fully endorse it Let's try it at once!"

"Everyone, please now, not so fast There's something here that you don't quite grasp Well, I may as well give them what they want And the best, I must confess, I have saved for the last For the ruler of this Christmas land!"

"Is a fearsome Queen with a deep mighty voice Least that's what I've come to understand And I've also heard it told That She's something to behold Like a lobster, huge and red When She sets out to slay with her rain gear on Carting bulging sacks with her big great arms!"

"That is, so I've heard it said And on a dark, cold night Under full moonlight She flies into a fog Like a vulture in the sky And they call her! Sally Claws!" Everyone was cheering as (Y/n) walked off "Well, at least they're excited But they don't understand That special kind of feeling in Christmas land Oh, well..." They mumbled

"You've poisoned me for the last time you wretched Doll!" Poppy yelled before she locks Wally away and a loud dingdong"Oh my head...the door is open!" She said

"Hel-lo?" (Y/n) yelled "(Y/n) Skellington, up here my Friend!" Poppy exclaimed "Dr. I need to borrow some equipment!" (Y/n) told poppy "Is that so, whatever for?" Poppy asked

"I'm conducting a series of experiments" (Y/n) explained "How perfectly marvelous! Curiosity killed the cat, you know!" Poppy said with a small laugh But that made (Y/n) frown "I know" They grumbled

"Come on into the lab and we'll get you all fixed up!" Poppy added, Wally heard everything as he was leaning aginast the door "Hmm. Experiments?" He asked quietly"Otoo, I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled as they began to set up all their science equipment then began working

"Interesting reaction....but what does it mean?" (Y/n) groaned before they heard a knock? At the window?(Y/n) walked over to the window and saw a basket hitting it, they opened the window and looked down to see the blue haired Ragdoll

Wally smiled at (Y/n) making their skull turn a small shade of grey, (Y/n) waved at Wally before taking the basketThey looked down but Wally was gone...After Wally gives (Y/n) them the basket and sneaks off He picks a flower which turned into a Christmas tree then catches on fire

"Something's up with (Y/n) Something's up with (Y/n)! Don't know if we're ever going to get Them back! They're all alone up there Locked away inside Never says a word Hope They haven't died Something's up with (Y/n)! Something's up with (Y/n)!"

"Christmas time is buzzing in my skull Will it let me be? I cannot tell There's so many things I cannot grasp When I think I've got it, and then at last Through my bony fingers it does slip Like a snowflake in a fiery grip Something here I'm not quite getting Though I try, I keep forgetting Like a memory long since past Here in an instant, gone in a flash What does it mean? What does it mean?"

"In these little bric-a-brac A secret's waiting to be cracked These dolls and toys confuse me so Confound it all, I love it though Simple objects, nothing more But something's hidden through a door Though I do not have the key Something's there I cannot see What does it mean? What does it mean? What does it mean?"

"Hmm... I've read these Christmas books so many times I know the stories and I know the rhymes I know the Christmas carols all by heart My skull's so full, it's tearing me apart As often as I've read them, something's wrong So hard to put my bony finger on Or perhaps it's really not as deep As I've been led to think Am I trying much too hard? Of course!"

"I've been too close to see The answer's right in front of me Right in front of me It's simple really, very clear Like music drifting in the air Invisible, but everywhere Just because I cannot see it Doesn't mean I can't believe it You know, I think this Christmas thing It's not as tricky as it seems And why should they have all the fun?"

"It should belong to anyone Not anyone, in fact, but me Why, I could make a Christmas tree And there's no reason I can find I couldn't handle Christmas time I bet I could improve it too And that's exactly what I'll do Hee,hee,hee!" (Y/n) pushed open the windows "Eureka!! This year, Christmas will be ours!" they exclaimed as the town began to cheer but Wally looked worried...

~

"Patience, everyone! (Y/n) has a special Job for each of us! Dr. Poppy, your Xmas assignment is ready. Dr. Poppy to the front of the line!" Howdy announced "I knew it! Dr. thank you for coming! We need some of these!" (Y/n) said as they showed a picture of Santa and sleigh

"Hmm.. their construction should be exceedingly simple. I think" Poppy mumbled "How horrible our Xmas will be!" Howdy exclaimed"No--how jolly!" (Y/n) corrected making Howdy switch faces "Oh, how jolly our Xmas will be..." He said befire he gets pelted by rocks then sees the three trick or treaters

"What are you doing here?!" He asked"(Y/n) sent for us!" Julie grinned "Specifically!" Frank said "By name!" Eddie added "(Y/n)! (Y/n) it's Home's Henchpeople!" Howdy yelled

"Ah, Halloween's finest trick or treaters. The job I have for you is top secret. It requires craft, cunning, mischief!" (Y/n) told the three"And we thought you didn't like us, (Y/n)!" Eddie said with a laugh "Absolutely no one is to know about it. Not a soul. Now!" (Y/n) replied

(Y/n) whispered the plan to them before speaking louder nkw "And one more thing -- leave that no account Home out of this!" They demanded "Whatever you say, (Y/n)!" "Of course (Y/n)!" "Wouldn't dream of it (Y/n)!"all said with their fingers crossed before they ran out of the town and to a small little tree house

"Kidnap Mrs Sally Claws!" "I wanna do it!" "Let's draw straws!" "(Y/n) said we should work together!" "Three of a kind!" "Birds of a feather!" "Now and forever Wheeee La, la, la, la, la Kidnap the Sally Claws, lock her up real tight Throw away the key and then Turn off all the lights!"

"First, we're going to set some bait Inside a nasty trap and wait When She comes a-sniffing we will Snap the trap and close the gate!" "Wait! I've got a better plan To catch this big red lobster Star! Let's pop her in a boiling pot And when She's done we'll butter her up!"

"Kidnap the Sally Claws Throw her in a box Bury her for ninety years Then see if She talks!" "Then Mr. Home Can take the whole thing over then He'll be so pleased, I do declare That he will cook her rare!" "I say that we take a cannon Aim it at her door And then knock three times And when She answers Sally Claws will be no more!"

"You're so stupid, think now lf we blow her up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then (Y/n) will beat us black and green!" "Kidnap the Sally Claws! Tie her in a bag Throw her in the ocean Then, see if She is sad!" "Because Mr. Home is the meanest guy around If I were on his list, I'd get out of town!"

"He'll be so pleased by our success That he'll reward us too, I'll bet!" "Perhaps he'll make his special brew Of snake and spider stew Ummm! We're his little henchmen and We take our job with pride We do our best to please him And stay on his good side!"

"I wish my cohorts weren't so dumb!" "I'm not the dumb one!" "You're no fun!" "Shut up!" "Make me!""I've got something, listen now This one is real good, you'll see We'll send a present to her door Upon there'll be a note to read Now, in the box we'll wait and hide Until her curiosity entices her to look inside!" "And then we'll have her One, two, three!"

"Kidnap the Sally Claws, beat her with a stick Lock her up for ninety years, see what makes her tick Kidnap the Sally Claws, chop him into bits Mr. Home is sure to get his kicks! Kidnap the Sally Claws, see what we will see Lock her in a cage and then, throw away the key!"

"Sally Claws..hahaha!" Home exclaimed.....

[inmyminditsreal]

You're sweeter than cough syrup

Sick!reader x spencer reid

Word count: 573

Summary: You're sick at home, and Spencer takes care of you despite you being stubborn

Fluff!!

You’re lying in bed, feeling horrible, and wishing Spencer was there. You can't believe that you have a cold. Sniffling your way through the hours and watching some dumb reality TV show. Spencer went out to get you things, and It has only been 15 minutes since he left. Suddenly, Spencer calls out to you,

“Hey sweetheart, are you still in bed?”

You groan, “Mmm-yea.” and realize how hoarse your voice is.

“Oh honey- you look so sick.” He says, walking into the room.

You grumble back, “It's almost like I am.”

“I brought you some soup, also flowers, even if you can’t smell them - and snacks.” He says while smiling.

He places the things down, walks up and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. You smile, then respond,

“I love you so so much but- what's all this for? What's your angle..?”

You melt at the thought of him going to the store and buying you your favorite snacks, but you know he has some tricks up his sleeve.

“Well…I have some medicine. Nothing bad, just NyQuil.”

“No way,” You reply. You hate the taste of NyQuil, he knows that.

He opens the wrapper, lays down next to you, and holds the poison up to your mouth.

“No no no. It’s going to take more than this to get me to drink that.”

He scoffs, “Oh come on, you know Nyquil Cold and Flu is a combination medication containing acetaminophen, dextromethorphan, and doxylamine Dextromethorphan is a cough suppressant. It affects the cough reflex in the brain that triggers coughing. Doxylamine is an antihistamine that reduces the effects of the natural chemical histamine in the body. Histamine can produce symptoms of sneezing, itching, watery eyes, and runny nose.��

“How on earth does that help me?” You reply, secretly impressed.

He whispers, “ It doesn’t but, what do you want, hmm? Anything.”

“I dunno.” You respond.

“How about..this,” He says softly before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “is that enough?”

You turn your head away and pout, “Nope!”

He puts the medicine down and says “Hmm, what about….this,” He says while cupping your cheeks and peppering kisses all over your face and down your neck.

You fight away your smile but eventually say, “Fine, that worked.”

He picks up the cough syrup and gently holds your chin. You swallow the syrup and shake your head in disgust. He sits down in the bed next to you and wraps his arms around you.

You lay your head on his shoulder. You grab some chocolate and start eating.

“You really didn’t have to do all this, you know. You're just lucky you're sweeter than cough syrup.” you say.

“I know but the thought of you here all alone, sick. I hate it. I love you way too much to allow that.” He replies and snuggles into you. You move your head from his shoulder down to his chest and wrap your arms around him.

“You’re so cute, especially when you’re sick.” He mutters.

“No way, I look like a zombie.” You say back.

“What? No way. You look beautiful.”

“Well if you say so, you look cute too.” You smile back

He chuckles, lifts your hand and kisses it softly.

“Get some rest, you really need it.” He says.

“Yeah yeah okay, Love you.” You whisper.

You were already half asleep but him hugging you tighter sent you instantly into sleep.

You’re honestly glad you got sick.

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.

[papabigtoes]

chapter eight spooky month spooky art spooky wips WOOOO i love makin illustrative fan piece yeti brain scoops sewer gunk drinks it like soup mm mmm i say how about one more two seven more scoops i say

[theseushasfallen]

Ok. So.

Currently, I find myself watching the 2011 remake of The Thing. And, because i’m a bitch with a hyperfixation, i’m thinking of how I could squish this and Trigun together to make a delightful mashup soup. Y’know, like mashing two ken dolls together to make them kiss.

So of COURSE i’m thinking of Cryptid/Uncanny/Monstrous Vash. He is always on my mind, any time any place, my babygorl who has Witnessed the horrors, and IS the Horrors.

And i’ve been thinking of this shit chronically, i’ve been planning a fic like this ever since i’ve begun to fully muse on how inhuman Vash is (COUGH, literal years). 

And one of my inspirations, is the fic Monster Boy by DeuBatty on AO3. And lemme tell you it’s put a fucken worm in my brain, its AWESOME I highly recommend going to check it out, its hella underrated and it gives the kinda energy I desperately wish to replicate.

So, here I am, trying to fit these pieces of crack infused bullshit together into a cohesive plotline, and this is how.

So, logically, I start with the Thing bit. Mmm. Aliens. (Mild spoilers for the Thing but it doesn’t go how you’d think lmao)

So currently, I’m stuck between only Vash being the alien in question, or both twins being aliens and Rem picking them up from the antarctic like ‘OOO FREE BABIES’

The second one is a bit self-explanatory, but the first is really, really funny, and I wanna explain to you why.

So. Lemme set the scene for you:

Science runs in the Saverem family. Rem’s a botanist who dabbles in archeo-botany, and her (adopted) son Nai is also quite taken with the pursuit of Archaeology. So when he’s called out on some,,,vague new trip to an outpost in the boonies of Antarctica to find some ancient, buried Structure, he’s elated.

So, he gets there, they dig up a frozen hunk of Something and leave it in the room like normal,,, but Nai thinks that something might not be right with the alien they dug up. So, still painfully sober and more than a bit paranoid, he goes to stare at a hunk of ice instead of socializing. 

And, well, whoop-dee-doo, he was right.

But instead of the ice bursting outward and the alien escaping though the roof like it does in the movie, Nai hears a pitiful scratching from within the ice. And then there are fissures, cracks. They multiply softly, as if the creature inside is unsure about its movements, intil the whole block is a veritable spiderweb of cracks.

Nai watches, frozen to the spot with something like horror as something pushes chunks of fractured ice out of the block, and reach out something that looks like what Nai can only describe as an appendage. 

Its something that looks closer to any crustacean or invertebrate, something with too many joints and a hard, shiny exoskeleton that gleamed iridesent black in lantern light. Things that could vaguely be called fingers (if one would squint) poked and prodded at the concrete floor curiously, examining the space with gentle caution.

And then more ice falls.  And more is revealed.

And Nai, only about a foot or so away from this thing, looks it in one glossy, black eye.

He screams. because of course he does, how could he not? The fucking alien he just dug out of the ice is ALIVE with questionable intention, how the hell is he supposed to cope with this shit when he could barely interact with his coworkers???

And in the process of screaming he ALSO freaks out the Alien, who screams back in much the same way that a canyon would- with Nai’s own voice.

So Nai, with his lightning quick reflexes, punches the thing. And slices his knuckles on its exoskeleton in the process.

Then he fucking books it back to the Rec Room, panicked screaming ensues about how “ITS ALIVE ITS ALIVE ITS ALIVE I CUT MY HAND ON IT I SCREAMED AND IT SCREAMED BACK-” 

And they’re all like. ‘what the hell. the serious stick-up-the-ass prissy Dr.Saverem wouldn’t josh about this shit.’ and they follow him back, and when Nai opens the door again they see that the ice?? is broken?? and with a glaring lack of alien??

Oh, and there’s a guy huddled in the corner. And when the door, yknow, slams open, he whips around (mans is butt-ass naked but he aint got no junk, just fucken ken doll smooth down there) and suddenly Nai is looking directly into his reflection.

The thing’s eyes widen, and it makes a strangled hurt-sound that sounds like the cry of a hawk more than anything human. And then it darts foreward towards Nai, everybody screaming around him as they scramble, but Nai himself is frozen as the thing takes his hand with the gentleness of family...

And then RIPS THROUGH THE SKIN OF ITS OWN NEW FINGERTIPS WITH ITS TEETH, and lets its blood out on Nai’s broken skin. It soaks into his open flesh as if he were a sponge, the throbbing overtaking his nervous system momentarily before the pain is gone and he watches his own skin knit back together seamlessly.

The alien chitters, something that sounds apologetic, and tries to smile at Nai, but it’s too wide and too sharp, teeth too large and lips too thin, and eyes too bright. But, strangely, it makes Nai feel better. He’s hit with a wave of attentative apology, the feeling not his own.

He chokes on his tongue, then slowly looks back at his coworkers, who had all watched the exchange with guns trained on either of them.

“Fuck.” Nai curses.

“F-uck.” The Alien echoes back with a tilted head, and stilted words.

Nobody knows what the hell to do with the sudden twin that Dr. Saverem had... acquired. So they just. Keep him around? Idk dude he picks up card games quickly, words even quicker, although they never sound right. Like a foreign accent, but something otherworldly and stilted. 

Nai and him, once they figured out the whole mind-link thing, could communicate pretty well, quickly gaining a bond. He serves as reluctant translator, resident alien babysitter, and knife-weilding peace-keeper. He doesn’t feel bothered by how his new brother seemed too tall, too gangly, too sharp. He doesn’t mind the way the alien cuddles up to him sometimes, winding circles around him like a particularly fleshy quilt that purred and clicked. Everyone else gets used to it too, although they mind his physical contact way less. 

Except for one of the investigative journalists that were hired, one Roberto De Niro, who just pats the alien’s head tiredly and throws him his cigarette-reeking coat whenever the little shit is looking particularly pathetic.

Eventually, they take him back to the states. They don’t talk about how four people came to the Arctic, and five came back.

Rem LOVES Nai’s new brother, smothers him and his human twin in blankets and kisses when they get home. She questions them, later, about it, and Nai could never keep a secret from his momma.

Eventually, they name him- something old and lovely, the name that Rem would’ve named her own son- Vash.

Something something shenanigans with meryl and milly and nicholas eventually, probably, idk i’m tired rn lmao and  this is LONG

[bleue-flora]

Mmm that’s some tasty soup…

Final co-authored chapter of @midnight-fangirl01’s Monsters don't deserve hugs, but you aren't a monster is out! I’m pretty happy with how these three chapters turned out [Ch 36-38] (think I forgot to post about the second one oops). I had quite a good time brain rotting and working on them. It was so fun to come up with lots of call backs and references, that the author didn’t even think of ;D as well as getting to dish out some good old satiating revenge.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 17 - Panties!

You and Gale chat about linguistics. Astarion has elf ears and thus, elf hearing. Ruh-roh.

Rated M for language and violence. Still not for smut, because when I said this was a slow burn, I meant it and also Eleanor is demisexual, so does not compute for her (yet).

On AO3.

You don’t make it much further before calling quits. Between your horror vomiting, Lae’zel’s brush with acid, and the rest of the party being generally wrung out from killing a wholeass owlbear, y’all are beat.

Camp is in a pretty, little clearing just off the trail. The grass is soft—and joyously free of ticks—with patches of pretty, yellow flowers. It’s a clear night; the moon is a great, big silver plate, and the spray of unfamiliar stars overhead shine bright and crystalline.

While Lae’zel scrapes the brains out of the skull of the owlbear, the others hunker down for a good and proper soup. It’s mostly vegetables, with sliced sausages, and you’re so, so fucking thankful Gale kept spices in his magical go bag. More than salt and pepper, too. You’re picking up traces of chili powder, paprika, and even a taste of cumin, you think. Not bad at all.

After your meal, y’all sit around for a bit. Astarion returns from scouting and takes his bowl back to his tent. Mr. Fancypants doesn’t like eating with commoners. It’s the first night everyone’s free, not working on spells or meditating or sulking alone. But the mood is still heavy and subdued.

Fucking cults will do that.

You wonder if your group’d listen to White people ghost stories—the Cherokee ones you do not tell at night out in the open.

You kick back and stare at the red line dancing around the edges of the embers.

Your stomach is still sore; throat still scratchy. And your headache is a constant grind. Must be the brainworm chewing on your gray-meats. The others hide their own discomfort pretty good—though that might just be the whole “not human” thing. Except Gale is human. Does he have wizard ibuprofen?

You stare into the fire some more and resist the urge to palm your right eye and press until you see sparkles.

The next thing you know, everyone has moved around the fire.

You sit up. Look around. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are arguing over the importance of keeping trophies (which Shadowheart dismisses as barbaric nonsense). Astarion is now standing outside his tent with a book propped open on one arm. You literally blinked and they all moved. What the fu—

“Are you alright?” Gale says. He was opposite you on the whole other side of the fire. Now he leans on the same fallen log you rest against with his own book sitting in his lap.

“I,” you say. You lost time. You completely lost, at minimum, several minutes. You try to breathe normal, instead of panting like a sick dog. “Yeah. I just…zoned out pretty good right there.”

Gale frowns. “’Zone?’ How would you use area as a verb?”

God, your head hurts.

You flap a hand. “Means I wasn’t paying attention, is all. D’you, you got anything for a headache? The stress has got my neck wound so tight it could crack a walnut.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Shadowheart may have an easier time of it. Are you…?”

He pauses. There’s more than confusion etched into his brow. It looks suspiciously like concern.

“Are you having any other symptoms?” he says in a low voice.

You look at him until it clicks. The whole face melting thing. All the stuff he’s described.

“No, no,” you say. “I don’t think it’s any of that. I woke up with this back on the butthole—I mean, the nautiloid.”

But his eyebrows have already shot up to his hairline. “The what? I’m not sure that translated accurately.”

Oh shit.

You groan. “No, it probably did. It’s what I been calling the nautiloid, before I learned its name. The doors on there looked like, well, buttholes. So I just went with it.”

His mouth opens. No words come out. You’ve shocked Mr. Verbose into silence. You almost give yourself a high five.

“I named all you’uns,” you continue, a bit more of Uncle Randy’s vernacular slipping in. It feels nice, letting your tongue slide back into that cadence. Feels like relaxing. Once you’d moved away, you tried to soften your country accent, fold it up into neat, shortened northern.

“I can only hope it was more sophisticated than your naming convention for the ship,” Gale says.

“You were mumu.” You wait. His expression doesn’t change, so the dirt potion must not’ve had a decent replacement for that. So you explain it, and by the end, he’s got a wry sort of smile.

“I can state with full confidence I’ve been called much worse,” Gale says. “Though it is a slight blow to my ego that I couldn’t impress any of my more noteworthy traits over my wardrobe.”

“It was either that or mullet.”

Having explained that, he proceeds to quiz you on the others, stumbling only over “goth.” But educated on that, he agrees with you on all counts.

“We’d been calling you Tav,” he says. At your blank face, “It’s a name used for orphans or someone whose name isn’t known, usually due to illness or injury. Quite common.”

Tav. It’s…their version of Jane Doe?

Then Gale’s face twists up. You can’t tell if it’s some flavor of perplexed, or if there’s a hint of amusement around his eyes. “Though I am curious how you’d gotten a glimpse at Astarion’s pants?”

You stare. Twist to find Astarion lounging on a nest of pillows he’s somehow managed to collect—he stole them from the tieflings, didn’t he.

“He’s wearing them?” you say and gesture with your thumb.

Gale’s whole face opens in surprise (relief?). “Ah! Another translation quirk. We call the outer garments trousers. The inner clothing is called pants, or smallclothes.”

You sit there. He’s definitely amused, now. Because you’ve been calling Astarion ‘Fancy Underwear.’ Good god. You’re so glad you figured that one out with Gale.

“Right,” you say. Your face definitely doesn’t feel warm. Not at all.

“Apologies for the distraction, and back to your headache. So you have no other symptoms.”

“I mean.” You gesture to your face, which as far as you can tell by touch is still your face. Goddamn, you haven’t had a proper bath in days. At least y’all are camped next to a stream; you can keep on dunking yourself as best you can. Still, no moisturizer or shampoo. Your elbows are getting rough.

“It’s all rather odd,” Gale says. “We should be halfway through the gestational process, yet none of us—aside from possibly you—have shown any sign of it. Either your being from a different plane has made you more susceptible, or our own physiology has shielded the rest of us. But Lae’zel isn’t a local, either, and even you aren’t following the standard process, as I understand it.”

He studies you a long moment. His lips press thin. But then he sighs and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think you alone are going through the melt-change-condition.” You catch the vague shape of the actual word he uses behind the magical translation, but can’t suss it out. “I think it safe to assume this is merely the stress from all of this. I would suggest you find a way to relax, but, well.”

Lae’zel has finished both her scraping and her argument. She settles down next to a big, stone wheel that starts to spin as her foot taps a pedal. You watch, curiously, until she lifts her brains-scraping knife and you realize that sumbitch is a fucking grinder.

The noise shoots right through your eyeball to lodge deep in your aching brain.

“Nice talk, Gale, I’m getting out of here,” you say.

He winces next to you. Nods. “I’ll retire to my tent and see if I can’t come up with something in my stores to help with that ache of yours. In your head. That you mentioned.”

He rolls to his feet super spry for someone with gray streaks in his hair. He gives a little bow with his head, which you return with a nod as you make your way to the opposite side of the camp from Lae’zel.

Which happens to be where Astarion has set himself up for the night. Almost like he didn’t want to be around someone scooping out a dead owlbear head.

He glances up as you near. Watches you sink down into the grass nearby. You pause for a moment, considering, and flop onto your back in a full sprawl beneath the stars.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he, for a long moment. He flips a page. The pounding in your brain begins to unclench. Turns another page.

“So,” he says in a fucking tone.

“Oh god,” you say preemptively.

“You think my pants are fancy?”

Fucking elf ears. Of course he fucking heard you. Of fucking course.

You cover your face with one arm. “Would you stop if I said it was a mistranslation and I meant your trousers?”

“Whyever would I do that?”

Whyever would he. The man is a fucking menace.

Thing is, you’ve been so polite and quiet this whole time (until today, really). But Mother and the other leadership saw something in you, even as a child. And they weren’t exactly wrong about it (just the part where it was bad bad sinful bad the devil shame shame bad).

You turn to squint at him through the throbbing in your skull. “Are they?”

“Are what, dear?”

“Your underwear. Are they fancy?”

Bitch doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He wants to give some, he better be able to take some.

You almost miss his hesitation, it’s so fast. Then his malicious smirk is back on and he snaps his book shut. Spins to face you. “They are, actually. I would ask the same of you, but I’m rather sure you’re not wearing any.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” and waggling your legs back and forth in the grass. Outbrazen that, chucklefuck.

His mask doesn’t even crack. Not a flinch, not a micro expression; the man is stone cold fucking with you. “Are those not a norm in your realm, either?”

“Oh, they are, I just didn’t have them on me when I got grabbed.” Let him wonder about that. Dare him to fucking ask. The reason is you were asleep, but he doesn’t know that. “Unless we find some kinda clothing store soon, I think I’m gonna have to make some myself.”

He leans forward to rest an elbow on his bent knee. “I could help you with that, you know.”

You…can’t tell if he’s being serious.

“I ain’t wearing your drawers, fancy man. You only got the one pair anyway, unless you’re walk around with spares in your pockets.”

To this, he grimaces. “I didn’t need the reminder. All the material we’ve come across has been roughspun, mildewed, or both. Not a scrap of silk to be seen anywhere.”

You turn your head to frown at him for a long moment. Because yeah, that tracks. Of course this floof-haired, ridiculous city man wears silk drawers. You should not be so surprised at this. But also…

“You expecting to find you some silk out here in the boonies?” you say.

Now it’s his turn to frown. You watch his lips form the word “boonies.”

“Outside the city,” you say. “Back woods, back water, the sticks, wilderness, middle of fucking nowhere.”

“Hmm. No, I suppose I didn’t. People travel through here, but not the sort to own any apparel worth salvaging, would they? No, you’re correct.”

You say nothing to that. Content to lie beneath the moon and let the conversation about y’all’s panties die a quiet, natural death.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his head tilt. He’s watching you.

“That was a clever little plan, back there,” he says after a moment. “I dare say, you thought further ahead than any of the others regarding those cultists. And regarding how to deal with them. It was very clean—efficient, even if their deaths were very much not. It’s a shame you had to leave us so quickly back in that den.”

To vomit.

You’re not gonna out-edgey the edgelord here. Simpler to go for the boring answers. “Ain’t used to seeing something like that. Horror is a normal response to people getting torn up back where I come from.”

“Mmm. Sounds terribly dull. And yet, for someone so inexperienced,” he makes some gesture that either their version of air quotes or him just being a theater kid, “you came to that conclusion quickly and you saw it through. Against some objections, even.”

Objections from half of them. Or only Gale, really, as the only part Lae’zel hadn’t liked was the sneak factor. She seemed pleased as punch when then owlbear turned on y’all and she got to hack it to pieces.

And Gale got over it all well enough to come hang out with you at camp.

These fucking people.

And goddamnit, you’re fitting in.

You find him with his chin propped up, his gaze fixed on you.

“I have never, in my life, had to deal with this kinda shit before,” you say. “I’m just…getting ideas as we go along and trying not to die.”

“Quite vicious ideas.”

Your neck is hot. You turn away, point your face at the sky as if the cold starlight will chill the head building over your cheeks.

He’s not wrong. You have a ruthless streak, you know. Part of your whole healing process was recognizing and accepting that part of yourself. And you had. And now, you wonder if that is part of the problem. If you hadn’t just gone down into your mental basement to feed the monsters there, but you’d pulled up that cellar door and leapt in yourself.

You feel guilt, for sure. But you already know you’d do it again. You’d put up that ruthless streak in a shoebox and set it up on a tall shelf in a back closet in your brain. But now you went and you opened that up, and it’s working for you. It’s a tool and a weapon, and it might be your best shot at surviving all this.

“Your ideas got you out of that crash,” Astarion says. “They kept you with all of us, saved you from that bandit, and effectively took control of our little band of miscreants.”

“What? I’m not—”

You didn’t take control. Did you? They went along with one horrible idea. Or two, actually, with Kahga. Except there were several ideas involved in that—

You’re not the leader.

You’re not.

“And even now, that mind of yours is plotting out our continued survival, isn’t it?” he says. “You might be a useful person to know.”

“Well thank you, darlin,’” you drawl.

He makes a sound that forces your attention back to him. You catch his eyebrows raised, eyes round. The laugh is more of a snort, and he seems as surprised at it as he does at…whatever caused it.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“That’s just a saying,” you start.

But he’s already waving it off. “Not to worry. I believe I’ll leave you to your little respite away from that cacophony. Take a walk and get some air, myself.”

Oh shit, you weirded him out. It’s just a phrase. Old, southern ladies you’ve never met call you “sugar” and “honey” all the time.

He stands. Sweeps the wrinkles out of his clothes—mostly his silly, frilly shirt. Then he gives you some ridiculous, over-the-top, one-arm-in-the-air courtly bow. “Do sleep tight, darling.”

He wanders off. The wind hisses in the trees. Lae’zel’s grinder screeches like a thousand souls of the damned, and your brain worm nibbles contentedly at a piece of your pre-frontal cortex.

“Jesus christ,” you say and roll over to lie face down in the grass.

[add1ctedt0you]

Me screaming about zcx because I need to sort out thoughts about them for a fic I'll probably never write

The fic is centered on fem!zcx as teens, because I can't deal with them as adults, so I am (trying really) going to understand their dynamics and brain problems as teens.

So, starting with the easy one: lan wangji. Teen!lwj biggest issues is discovering new things: sexual desire, attraction, - people, in general. lwj had been sheltered as a kid in a way that didn't let him learn how to deal with the world, imo. Also, he's stuck with Lan 3,000 rules, so puberty is a nightmare for him. I can figure out both his relationships with wwx and jc: both of them, in different way, have shattered his convictions and beliefs and this, plus an amount of sexual attraction he feels for both, is going to make him feel ten things at once. And he's going to like none of this. Obviously, his journey of self-discovery is internal and no one knows about it because lwj's problem, imo, is that he feels a lot and he feels deeply but he can't express himself.

Now comes the problem: chengxian. Imo, one of the biggest formative moment of their relationship is when jfm took away jc's dogs: that day they both learned that jc will lose things for wwx. And it fucked up both of them. Mm, not an hill I'll die on, but imo teen!jc and teen!wwx used to talk about their problems: like, we have the whole 'twin pride' speech, because wwx wants to work out their problems there. And then, during the wedding scene, again, jc brought up problems, that wwx brushed off, but still, they communicated (they also at some point start to misinterpret each other. But that's different).

Their biggest problem, imo, is that they don't feel loved by each other, they feel both a burden for the other AND someone the other would replace easily with someone else (and no, it's not only a jc's fear; like, yes, he's much more likely to get on his own head about this, but teen!wwx passed from being teen!sect heir jc most-important-person to being not-the-only-person for very busy sect leader jc. I've read this on a fic and still hunts me. The whole deal of wwx, in general, is that nothing is as it was and this hurts him but we don't talk about it).

They are a mess. They hurt each other daily intentionally (jc) and unintentionally (wwx). But, they will face so much for the other because their love is stronger. (post res wwx is different- he's so tired and resentful, but we don't talk about it). Their relationship is doomed from the start but the love is there.

(Also, they have shaped each other in irreparable ways. wwx uses emotional manipulation to get his way because that's what worked with jc. jc uses threats because that is what worked with wwx.)

About their pov: mmm, I'll probably found a lot of problems with wwx's pov, because, honestly, how can you write about someone who can't acknowledge ONE emotion and can't do the math (emotionally. In real life I hate math. Also, someone should explain to me how he got from crying jc to noncon surgery. How).

Also, wwx's pov is seriousness treated crackily, while lwj's pov is a teen drama. And jc's pov is a soup opera.

[koolkat9]

are you still doing these ship asks? because.. america x romano (americano lol) perhaps?

Oh boy! Haven't thought of these two for awhile, but I'll always have had a soft spot for them.

Send me Ships

Gives nose/forehead kisses: 

Alfred definitely. And at the most random of moments

Gets jealous the most:

Romano. We all know he has a bit of an inferiority complex in regards to his brother which has leaked into his other relationships making him feel not good enough for them. And that leads to jealousy be it breaking into a conversation or snatching up Al's hand or perhaps just glaring at who he's jealous of. Though he rarely does, when Alfred notices this jealousy they have a long talk and cuddles. Eventually Romano gets to the point where he'll approach Al when he's feeling jealous so Alfred knows and they can talk and hug it out.

Takes care of on sick days:

Alfred tries his best, but he's not the most experienced taking care of people when sick. But he will give lots of cuddles and soup.

Roma is a bit more versed in taking care of people. Got some home remedies, amazing at making light but tasty dishes, a bit nagging, but he knows what he's talking about and it comes from a place of caring.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: 

Alfred because he's a big puppy like that. He literally carries Roma into the water bridal style.

Brings the other lunch at work:

Romano and it's the best food Alfred has ever had.

Tries to start role-playing in bed: 

I don't think either would actually be into it. But Alfred may try once to spice things up but it just makes Roma laugh instead of getting him in the mood.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: 

Alfred is just an embarrassing dancer in general. But still, probably Al.

I think Romano is actually an amazing dancer. It's one of the areas he actually is better than Feli. When drunk he may be a little less graceful and almost trip, but I wouldn't say it's "embarrassing"

Firmly believes in couples costumes: 

Alfred. Especially the cheesy and funny ones. Romano can't say no to the puppy dog eyes.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas:

Both have, many times. They've just given up on giving each other a limit.

Remembers anniversaries: 

Both, but Alfred has to write them down because he's a bit scatter brained/ loses track of dates without a calendar.

Brings up having kids first:

Nationverse they can't really have kids so it's not really a conversation. But in human AU, Alfred does.

Kills the bugs:

Both.

First to define them as a couple:

Alfred. He literally goes to everyone saying "This is my boyfriend" after their first date lol.

Who hides their guilty pleasures longer:

Mmm...toughy. Roma is insecure in general which would make him keep this kind of thing under wraps. But also Al grew up around puritanism and shit which probably makes him ashamed of even the most innocent of guilty pleasures. So I'm not sure who does it first, but both struggle to open up about it.

Snorts while laughing:

Alfred.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Monster? I Hardly Know Her!

The Pearce Joza obsession lives on im afraid 😔

ao3

Prompt: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Fandom: Mech-X4

Characters: Spyder, Harris, and Veracity

Summary: Spyder wakes up, delirious and injured after a monster attack. Harris plays severely unqualified nurse.

Trigger Warnings: injury, mentioned vomit, mentioned death

809 words

Something was screeching. High pitched and whiny, kinda reminding him of a school bell… was he at school right now? No, that didn’t sound right. If not there, then where was he?

He groaned, blinking his eyes open. The screeching didn’t go away. In fact, it only somehow got even worse. He couldn’t see that well, vision all… blurred. Did he normally wear glasses? He couldn’t remember. He was pretty sure he didn’t, but then why else would his eyes be so… messed up?

A dark shape loomed over him. His first thought: dad? His second: please not dad.

The screeching (which he was now beginning to realize was just a ringing in his ears) was polite enough to quiet down some. A win was a win.

“Spyder?” the shape called, sounding like it had come from underwater. Or maybe he was underwater… he really couldn’t tell. “Can you hear me?”

“Harris?” he attempted, throat so scratchy it was painful. He coughed, his lungs burning at the action. “Wh’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, thank god. You took a real bad hit… or, a couple, more accurately. Do you remember the fight?”

His brain felt like it was full of soup, so… probably not. Was that why everything sounded so far away? “Did I win?” he croaked, squinting at the Harris-shaped blob.

“You were sort of… unconscious for most of it. Veracity had to hop on weapons, it was… quite the experience. But yeah, we won.”

He moved to sit up, immediately regretting the attempt. His body curled in on itself on pure instinct, raw pain sprouting in his chest like a… plant or something. 

“Oh, shit, yeah, don’t move!” Harris said, words stumbling over themselves. “We still need to check you out. Leo went to get some supplies… um, on a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling?”

“Mmm, ‘ve had worse,” he slurred. “‘nt hear good…”

“You can’t hear good?” Harris clarified, getting a low groan in response. “Okay, okay, I’ll forgive the grammar this one time on that. Uhhh… how many fingers am I holding up?”

Spyder squinted at the shape of his friend, trying to focus on his where his hands probably were. “Mmm… twelve?” he guessed.

“Yeah, that’s… definitely not right. I’m gonna need to scan you, hold still, okay?”

It wasn’t like he had much choice. If he moved, he was half convinced he’d disintegrate on the spot. God, everything hurt. He’d been knocked around plenty in his life, and he’d definitely had worse, but jesus. It was like his insides were on fire.

But he couldn’t stay down. He couldn’t afford to be dead weight on the team, not even for a minute. Not when he was constantly teetering on the edge of their collective patience. Not after the day Harris had been infected with ooze, had screamed at him that he was always in the way. 

He needed to show them that he wasn’t just the useless fool who didn’t add anything to the team other than plain annoyance. Quickly. Before they realized that it really was all he was and kicked him to the curb. 

“Wh—stop trying to get up!” Harris ordered, pushing him back down. Spyder’s head spun violently, and he had to give himself a moment to swallow down a bit of puke. 

“I’m good,” he hissed through his teeth, doing his best to filter the pain out of his voice. “All good. We’re good.” He still couldn’t actually focus his eyes enough to see the expression on his friend/severely unqualified doctor’s face. 

“I will strap you down, I swear,” he insisted, obviously annoyed. 

“Kinky,” came the unexpected voice of Veracity from somewhere near the door. 

“Wh-that’s not what I — no!” Harris stammered. Spyder wished he could see how red he probably was. He bet it’d be cute. Harris always somehow was.

“Relax, dumbass,” she said with a half-laugh. “Anyway, how are you feeling, kid?” She asked, her voice closer, now. 

“Mmm…” he managed, re-assessing his body to check for pain. To his faint surprise, though it was still definitely there, it felt so… detached from him, now. He felt like he was dreaming. “I think ‘m dying.”

“What?” they both cried in deeply concerned unison. 

Spyder grinned in what he assumed was Harris’s direction. “Cause you look like an angel.”

“I hate gay people,” Veracity mumbled under her breath. 

“I assume,” he continued, “'cause I can’t actually like… see you.”

“That’s… a problem. What can you see?”

“Shapes’n colors,” he slurred, giggling slightly. His head felt like it was going to explode. To be perfectly honest, that did sound pretty sick, though. Not as sick considering it hurt like a bitch. “G’nigh… sweet prince…” he mumbled, hoping his friends would still be there when he woke up again. 

They probably wouldn’t be, but he could dream.