#that while I still live with him. so I tried some of his shroom chocolate while we were at the river. did not work. hit his weed vape when

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

Author note: Mention of drugs, sickness and blood (if you're not comfortable with it don't read it) . It mighty be heart warming fluffyyyyyy.

You're his kitten. No matter the consequences you're. Cause even in his anger sometimes (which's rare and it's on the silly go-to's) he still sticks to that pet name because he met you like that under the bus stop's shelter in a heavy rain offered you an umbrella (while you were huffing and puffing like a kitten annoyed with the weather), walked you home, had a tea with you and some chocolate chip cookies. Been bestfriends from that year and there isn't a red light to your guys wild adventures—but he's been having a rough time recently. Had a cruel heart shattering breakup from a relationship that he thought was a never ending dream (she brought him happiness in a weird way he couldn't put into words) indeed it tightened your chest but his happiness's most important to you. To overcome it he's been scribbling notebooks over notebooks with lyrics that screams he miss her and the sex for the most part of it. It breaks your heart.

He's usually the one to melt all over you, give you forehead kisses, cuddles you when your periods are the bitchiest, makes you brekkie if he stays a night, runs you a bath and sometimes brings you pomegranate berried candles (he lies that he got them as a gift, he's one hell of a liar). He takes care of you with so much gentleness and helps you with study after wiping your tears and reassuring you telling you how proud he's of you. It made you guilty sometimes 'cos if you'd be in camille's place. . .you'd never be able not to get jealous. She was cool with it. Fills you with another curiosity that maybe she treated it like a fling.

He was devastated. Knocking on your door feebly. Then the moment your small confused body was under his weary gaze, boom!! It crashed upon him like a pitch storm and he fell to his knees tucking his head in your armpit crying his heart out. At that moment you felt his pain radiating to you and twisting your own stomach with a dagger, it was insufferable. He gave out no-deep scrapes but not to freak your bones muttered that he lost her. Eventually his bottled up emotions seeped into hues infront of you by passing week and to your littlest of information you got to know that they didn't ended up well in some perspectives so their relationship turned out to be a downfall. So As, you do with your girlie best-friend when she have a breakup you did it with Harry too. It didn't included feral clubbing (you left that part to his mates) but watching sappy movies that could fill your ice-cream bucket once you eat it whole, doing homemade face masks, playing drunk uno and knocking on your neighbours door to run way at last, dragging his arse to museum and in all of this you ended up convincing him to adopt a kitty (she lives with you thou).

The roles have been reversed completely!

He's been living at your flat for five weeks now. It's fading his usual cheekiness and the itch to annoy you every second he gets. Instead, it's just eating, spending bits of hours with you, going out with his mates and coming back to crash at your couch padding in your room in the wee of night demanding a warm coddle from you and that his back hurts from the cruelty of that single spring popping from the leather, staying with him when he'd wrench his stomach out in the morning. He's sensitive. His heart's soft that's one of the reason he gets hurt real quick, you admire that about him and reminds him that it's one of his qualities you're totally in love with. You're gentle with him. Giving him space and time to recover. Going with him at his friend's birthday little get together not drinking at all knowing one would have to stay sober as he chugged red wine staining his hawain shirt and when he clumsily poked his pink tongue out lazily to reach for the cigarette in her hand you tugged him back into you before he'd burn his tongue with sparkles announcing it's time to head back home and he'd be a pain in arse (a beautiful one though because his antics makes you all mushy) when he pretended to steal sandwiches from the table hiding them under his shirt saying that "'m pregnant with twins and it's hard to carry them" while you dragged him outside making him wear his coat like a stubborn toddler. Making him cupcakes sometimes, playing with his fluff of curls while he reads the book she gave him. It hurts. But, it subsides down with his single amiable glance that tells you he needs you. He always had. He always will. You give him extra forehead kisses and pecks on cheek while leaving for UNI, because it's irresistible to give dust to his pouty sulk.

It's seven in the morning when he tumbled through your door (has a key, you even brought his clothes and toothbrush from his house—he even uses your strawberry scented shampoo and body wash) his nose tip blushed matching his cheeks, eyes pooling with haze and hair poking in every direction. You were studying for a class you've in an hour. When you saw his irirses blown out you arched your brow putting the cup down beside your thick book, to mingle his sadness he's experimenting different fun wild things (told you bout it and you even called Mitch to take care of him).

"How many am I, pet?" You asked walking towards him seeing him struggle to get out of his vans and your giggles echoed into coldness when he peers down at your crouched state with his gold fish-y eyes, "dunno. . . but ye'r seem like. .like a-a sunflower floatin' in me head." His lips molding around his each word agonisingly slow drawl and his voice hoarse and scratchy. "You need rest, bambi." You got him out of his jeans and socks knowing he despises to sleep with layers on. "I'll be back with you in some hours. Hmm? Then we'll snuggle into blankets, you me and. . .salsa the pussy cat." You have to control your laugh everytime you take the kitty's name (Harry's worst at giving names you were horrified when he once joked that he loves chelsea boots so much he could name his daughter Chelsea) He whines at that nodding his head but not loosening his grip from around your wrist while you tucked him under your baby green patch work quilt. It's like his brain and heart can't decide how to choose.

On your way back you got Jeff's call asking why Harry isn't picking his phone his own voice resembling that of Harry's and you know he'd be looking shit at the time. Harry was still snoring out like a bulb in bright day on his tummy and you shook him gently at first but when he didn't woke up you had to be a bit harsher. "Harry wake up pet. . . Jeff's been calling ye for since." But, not even a hum in response so you placed your finger under his nose checking if he's even alive. Gratefully he was just sleeping like a literal corpse (he argues that he isn't that bad of a sleeper but in fact he is. Everything around him would burn down and he wouldn't even change a side).

It was seven in the evening when you were preparing for dinner when he woke up grumpy. His nose scrunched up, lips quirked up as if he tasted something yucky and his gait jello. You eyed him quietly even when he came in kitchen to drink water.

"Jeff was callin'. . ." You quipped stirring the veggies before pouring soup into a bowl and sliding it his way on the counter, "I know bombarded me phone with calls—" He gruffed spooning a mouthful and you flinched when he tried to cool it inside his mouth with "hawahhoohaha" little sounds (he knew it was hot, he's just an impatient leech).

"Stop being a gremlin. He told me ye' aren't writing, leaving everything like a cliffhanger neither you're attending the meetings he calls you at. . . I think you're done with your mourning it's time to do what you actually love and is there for you. Your music." You frown seriously trying to put some senses into his forever high brain. He drops the spoon back and dips his brows frustratedly, pinching his eyes shut.

"Fuckin' hell. Stop being my mama!" It's not the first time you guys are arguing and you're not gonna take it to heart. You stood up towering him and jabbing your finger to his chest, "you better stop filling your system with drugs before eighteen year olds come to you thinking you're a drug dealer—" He snickers at that a total mocking one (you know he's doing nothing hard it's just shrooms in the safe environment otherwise you'd have never never allowed him) but still you had to bring him back to his line so it was necessary. "Piss off." He mutters still slurping on his soup and you left him there with a loud smack on his head, "Wanker."

You care about him. Always did. Always will. He's the love of your life. Even your love has nourishment of just water and lacks sunshine from your sun it's still there into existence, how could you see him like this? Wasting his precious time and energy. It's impossible.

All you heard before going to deep slumber was the tinsy creak of your main door after that it was silent and darkness until now your phone buzzed under your pillow resonating Niall's tired words. You were a wreck havoc fumbling for your coat and wallet, covering pathway to tube with shivering legs hallucinating that everyone's eyeing your fiddly self with judgemental stare even though there're few.

You rushed to Niall's doorsteps knocking like a maniac, "where's he? Is he okay? told ye—" You pushed him aside marching inside to look for him. "He looked fine, he's a strong guy y/n they took him to hospital." You snaps your neck raising your brows.

"What the fuck, d'ya mean hospital!?" Your heart hammering in her ribcage overthinking the worst scenarios. "Take me there. right. fuckin' now." You tell him firmly not caring even if he's high too. Niall leads you to his car heating it up in the first beat taking glances of your petite body leaning against the glass with lips sucked in, eyes watered and legs constantly on bounce so placed his hand atop your knee giving you reassuring squeeze and a genial smile.

Your pink cheeks warming up with the heat of hospital radiating your way and loud growl left your chest when your blurry vision cleared to the sight of dishelved Harry sitting on the bench outside of ER, his irirses weary, mouth stuffed with cotton and has few scratches of rashes on his elbows otherwise he's fine. With each step of yours towards him something kept breaking inside you like you're walking on the nails and it's ripping you raw. He raised his head timidly hearing footsteps and when his eyes fell over your worried state panic flashed over his features and his only gaze turned you a puddling emitting heavy sobs within you before reaching towards him. The reality of situation dawning upon you because from what Niall told you in the car that they were high trying to have some fun, drove around neighbour hood and Harry jumped out of the window and bit his tongue between his teeth resulting in heavy bleeding a deep gnash (the fuckin' dumbstick he is).

"I hate you. I hate you so fuckin' much! you bastard." You tried to shout at him but the voice that came out of your mouth was that of mice as you threw harsh blows at his chest, bottom lip jutting wet and salty tears tricking down. He wraps his hand around your wrists ushering you closer down to his chest speaking muffled, "'orry." causing you to grunt angrily into the crook of his neck.

"Sorry my ass!" When you tried to pull back he tightened his hold round your neck snuggling you warmly to him with a hum. Jeff came back with medicines and when he parted his lips to speak in his defence you ignored him wiping your tears with the heel of your palms muttering a, "I hate you guys." The drive back was silent and the walk to your flat too, you passed by him to lock yourself into your room (you wouldn't because of the fact you wouldn't be able to sleep if not sure he's okay few feets away from you). When Harry attempted to roll his tongue to make some words nothing came out but a hiss making you spin, "'s okay we'll speak in the mornin'." Saying this you headed to bed and when you were bout to turn the lamp off he was lurking at the foot of your bed with a pillow in his arms smushing his face into it and squeezing it close to his chest gesticulating you that he wants a cuddle.

"Only 'cos y're adorable." You muttered moving your bum to make space for him suppressing your cooe when he grinned showing nothing but snow cotton, fuckin' hell being this cute should be illegal! He snapped his finger to call Salsa and she instantly galloped to shrink into his side while you spooned him. You woke up to the running tap and the time you were stretching under your quilt with yawns he padded out looking healed than last night.

He got a little lisp as he spoke, "can we talk?" You nodded knuckling at your sticky eyes criss-crossing your legs. "'Forgive me kitten." He continues, "sorry fo' mistreatin' ye' last night." You shake your head not realizing tears are dropping down your collarbones.

"Please. . .I don't wanna be a party-pooper in your life. you can live your life to finest but not at the sake of your life Harry– and. . . and if you're trying to invade the feelin' of sadness with all of this I don't approve it. What bout me? dunno what'll do if somethin' will happen to you, pet. S'not fair to me. is it? Just. . . love y—" your confessions cameflouging with sobs.

"Oh baby. ." He immediately cradled you in his embrace trying to soothe you with 'sorrys' and 'I'll never do somethin' like that again, promise'. Smooching slobery kisses all over your face and when you gazed up at him attracting him closer to your clean warm features all he did was peck the corner of your lips tenderly pulling away to pat your hair with a sigh.

"So. . .ye' love me." He teased you and you rolled your eyes grabbing his chin with your fingers, "show me your tongue." biting down your laugh when he retorted misheviously, "hmm. Wanna kiss it better?" Blowing him off with a remark that he's an utter pervert hiding the fact it splashed crimson to your neck.

"Mind makin' me poor self some brekkie?" He pouts and you giggled pecking the corner of his burgundy lips getting a timid smile in return, "in trade of?" He hip-checked you straddling Salsa over his shoulder and grabbing her little paws to expertise her in some dancey-dance moves.

"Mind bloggin' orgasm–ique dinner." He cackled loudly at the end when you shook your head in fake disappointment at him and he clinged by your side helping you to make some breakfast.

Think so you guys will figure it out.

[asavt]

Warm Canary Yellow

By Notebook

“Ooooh. So you’re looking to redeem yourself, Huh? Well, I suggest that you first head over to the city you terrorized for over three months. You know… The desert city where you made an army of dancing toads that you kidnapped.”

“Yes, I know.”

“The city where you reburied the Shroom Temple and forced the temple’s DJ to play music for you.”

“Yes. I know.”

“The place where you-”

“Would you just give me the damn ticket already!”

——————————————————————————–

Hole Punch gingerly rubbed the side of their cheek as they walked around, the newly named, Shnroomfit City. Yelling at the ticket agent for not giving them their ticket, somehow warrants them to throw their metal box towards one’s face, but whatever.

While getting their bearings together from that experience, Hole Punch looked around the area they were in, finding dozens of casinos, stores, and bars. Each one either gaudily decorated with LED or Neon lights or barely noticeable from the dimly lit sidewalk. 

Memories from months prior flooded Punch’s mind, as they continued to traverse the city. Memories of Toads giving them strange looks when they first entered the city, to Toads running for their lives when they began taking out the metal punchers. Toad’s, from the nastiest parts of the city, tried to come up to beat the snot out of them, only for them to either run away, get their snots beaten out, or become one of the dancing toads.

Hole Punch even remembers one particular fella, who had tree trunks for arms and a hardened look in his eyes, who tried to kick them out of a nightclub they liked. They responded to the older toad by toying with him, then punching his face out, literally. The fella wasn’t even a bad fighter either, it was just at the time Hole Punch was, and still is, a much stronger fighter and way more ruthless.

Just thinking about what they used to be, brings chills to Hole Punch’s spine. All those toads they traumatized just for being toads and all the sleepless nights they most likely caused after being defeated. They aren’t even sure if forgiveness or redemption is even possible for them, but they have to try. Why else would they come to the Oasis of Sandpaper desert?

Not wanting to dawdle any longer, Hole Punch lifted their yellow hoodie and walked towards the first homeless shelter they found. 

Baby steps.

———

“Your name is what! No! Why would I let you volunteer here! Get out of my sight, or I’m calling the police!”

“Err….sorry, you can’t volunteer. You’re far too dangerous.”

“Are you that that hole punching, f#$cker? Cuz if so, get the f$%k out of my soup kitchen.”

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that.”

“S-sorry. I can’t let you volunteer here. I’m worried for the kids’ safety.”

“I hope you perish in the desert and never be found.”

“You already have the temple of the shrooms! What more do you want from us?!”

“Nope. You’re too much of a risk.”

“I wish Mario would have destroyed you when you were just a small pathetic hole puncher." 

"Nope.”

—————

Sitting in an empty alley at the edge of the city, with little light to spare from the bulbs above, Hole Punch slumped their head in defeat. They knew that the Toads would still be a bit upset from what happened seven months ago, but they had no idea that their hurt and hate would last this long. Even the Snifits, who barely knew about Hole Punch’s existence, wouldn’t want to associate with the former Legion. 

The Toads sure made the Snifits wary about the disco dancer who took faces for fun. Not that Hole Punch blamed them, but do they hate and fear him that badly for this long? Or is it a select few and Hole Punch just got unlucky? They aren’t sure anymore.

As the former Legion continued to ponder on their predicament, they heard a ruckus near from where they were sitting. It sounded like two people fighting each other. One sounded a bit off and coarse, while the other sounded both terrified, angry, and absolutely done with life, all at the same time. 

Hole Punch got up from their sitting spot and ran towards the sound. As they got closer to the source of the commotion, they began to hear what the two were screaming.

“You….You! Must Pay! You must pay for what you’ve done!”

“I didn’t do nothin, you crazy bastard!”

“Yes. You. Did! You ruined my life of mine! You had your job! One job!”

“For the last time! I don’t take requests!" 

(Slam)

"Guhh!”

Right, when Hole Punch turned the corner of a building, they saw, far into the distance, a larger figure hit the smaller figure off the roof of a three-story building. The smaller figure hit a few things on the way down and landed in a pile of soft but frigid sand. 

The smaller figure limped out of the small sand crater, while the larger figure jumped from the roof and landed near the smaller figure. The larger figure walked towards the smaller figure and lifted them from near the neck of their hoodie. The smaller figure swung their good leg and kicked the larger figure’s chin. The larger figure dropped the smaller figure but retaliated by swinging their steel rebar towards the smaller figure. The rebar smashed against the smaller figure’s mask, causing the mask to fly off the smaller figure’s face and land on the cold desert sands next to them. 

The smaller figure tried to stand up and run to gain some distance, but their leg was badly damaged from the fall. Not wanting to go down easily, the smaller figure grabbed a stone nearby, while the larger figure walked up towards the smaller figure and lifted the rebar above their head.

The smaller figure was about to throw the stone towards the larger figure’s face when someone grabbed the rebar from behind the larger figure and threw it far from all three of them.

“Huh?”

The larger figure turned around and before they could react, the third figure punched the lights out of them. The larger figure dropped to the sands below, while the smaller figure merely stared in shock. They pelted that Toad with steel poles, shovels, bricks, and even a broken concrete block, and that still didn’t slow the rampaging Toad down.

Yet, a single punch from the person in front of them managed to knock the Toad out cold. Whoever this person was, they must be far, far worse than the unconscious Toad next to them.

Not wanting to find out why the person knocked out the Toad, the bloody Snifit desperately tried to run away from the figure. However, thanks to the multiple wounds and a possible broken leg they gained, the smaller figure didn’t get too far before the third figure caught up to them.  

The smaller figure tried to fight off the third figure as best they could, but due to their injuries, all they could do was weakly hit the third figure as they lifted them from the sand. 

Just as the Snifit were about to try and wiggle their way to freedom they heard, “Hey, It’s ok. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Huh?” the Snifit responded in confusion as the third figure began to jog towards the city. 

“I saw a hospital on the way here,” answered the figure, “They should be able to treat you there." 

The third figure explained as they began to head towards the hospital on 5th street. As they drew closer to the more inhabited parts of the city, the lights on the streets slowly grew in luminosity. 

It was not long before the street lights above bathed the two in light.

It was then when the Snifit was finally able to see the person who was carrying him. 

The mystery person wore a yellow jacket with small light designs and a hoodie in which they covered their head, along with a sun-like necklace around their neck. They wore a black shirt underneath and black pants. Their hair was a chocolate brown with bits of yellow sprinkled near the ends of their hair. Their hands had faint circle markings on both sides and their height towered over them. 

It didn’t take long before the little Snifit realized who was carrying them. It was the one person who his coworkers and friends constantly warned him about, the one person his boss greatly disliked, and the one person many Toads, and some Snifits feared till this day. 

It was the Legion of Stationary, Hole Punch. 

The Snifit froze in place as the Legion carried them to who knows where, thinking that this might be their last night. 

While the Snifit expectedly froze in place when they saw who was carrying them, Hole Punch continued to jog towards the hospital. Running could lead to the little Snifit’s injuries getting worse, so jogging was the best option.

When the hospital was in viewing distance, Hole Punch was finally able to glimpse at what the Snifit looked like, as well as the extent of their injuries. 

The Snifit’s dark burgundy hair was covered in dust, sand, and dried blood, while their honey-toned hands and cheeks were covered in cuts and bruises. Their leg was drenched in blood, swollen and purple in color, while their yellow jacket was full of tears with patches of fresh and dried blood all over it. 

Yeah, the Snifit was in a worse condition than they thought. 

As the two neared the hospital and entered through its door, the Snifit finally dared to look at Hole Punch’s eyes. 

To the Snifit’s surprise, their eyes were not the cold, sickening yellow that his coworkers often described but rather… a warm canary yellow. 

The type of yellow that reminds the Snifit of the sun that shines over the sky or the sunflowers that grow near the beaches of Noki Bay. 

Someone so dangerous shouldn’t have such warm eyes. 

"What’s your name?”

The Snifit looked bewildered for a bit at the Legion’s question. Wondering why the fearsome Hole Punch would ask for a random Snifits name. 

Before the Snifit could answer, the nurses and doctors took the little Snifit from Hole Punch’s arms and placed them onto the gurney.

Hole Punch quickly left the scene while the Snifit was wheeled to the emergency room. Hole Punch knew that if they stayed there any longer, the nurses and doctors would assume they injured the poor little Snifit. 

Deciding to retire for the night, Hole Punch scrounge up what little money they had and rented a room for the night. The sleepy former Legion fell onto the bed like a sack of bricks and slowly doused off to sleep, wondering if the little Snifit was alright. 

—————

“Hello. I’m here to see Lyrik,” Djei said to the main nurse who was working the morning shift in Sand Valley hospital.

The nurse browsed through the folders for a bit before finding the correct one. She then pointed towards the elevator before giving Djei instructions on how to get there.

“Just head up to the 5th floor, turn to the right and keep moving forward until you hit the nurse station. Ask for David. He’ll show you the way.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Djei waves the nurse goodbye before walking towards the elevator and hitting the 5th-floor button. As the elevator slowly rose to the fifth floor, Djei thought to himself on how in the world did Lyrik manage to get himself to the hospital with several knife wounds, a broken leg, and other minor injuries. Djei figured that when he got to the room, the Snifit would explain everything. 

When the elevator doors to the 5th floor opened, Djei stepped out of the elevator and headed towards the right for the floor’s nurses station. When Djei arrived at the nurse station, It didn’t take long for David to arrive and show Djei the room Lyrik was in. 

Once Djei washed his hands for safety purposes, he was allowed into room 207. There Djei found Lyrik lying on the hospital bed with a cast on his leg and bandages all over his body. The Snifit was watching the clouds roll across the sky, ignoring the world around him. Lyrik was brought back to reality when Djei tapped his friend on the shoulder.

Lyrik turned around and smiled.

“Djei! Long time no see, buddy. What’s up?”

For the next hour or so, Lyrik explained to Djei what happened last night and how he ended up in the hospital. 

——————————————————

Lyrik was walking home from his shift at the Sunburst when a certain Toad came stomping towards him. The Toad, who was smack talking about how he ruined their chance of getting a date, was the same Toad whom Lyrik denied a request for a particular song. The Toad demanded an apology from the DJ, to which he responded with a stern no. 

Turns out the Toad didn’t quite like that and tried to beat the living tar out of the DJ. Unfortunately for the Toad, Lyrik had some experience with street fighting and managed to dodge and parry some of the Toad’s attacks.  

At first, Lyrik had the upper hand but after a while, the Toad began to get more aggressive, as well as unpredictable. Knowing when to fold em, Lyrik turned tail and ran. Unfortunately for him, the cumbersome Toad was much faster than they looked. They slowly caught up to the Snifit and once again tried to bash the Snifit into the ground.

This game of cat and mouse went on for quite some time, with both sides receiving damage from either a pocket knife, broken bottles, bricks, and whatever else the two could get their hands on. 

It wasn’t before long when Lyrik found himself on top of a three-story building with the Toad right in front of him. They exchanged blows while spitting venom at the same time. As the fight wore on, the Toad became furious at Lyrik’s refusal to apologize for what he did, as a result, the Toad kicked Lyrik off of the building. 

Lyrik hit a few air conditioners and the remains of a fire escape on the way down, which resulted in his leg getting broken and torn up.

The Toad soon jumped down from the roof of the building and smack Lyrik’s face with the steel rebar they acquired on the roof. Luckily, the mask took most of the damage but it still left Lyrik with a nasty head wound.

With few options left for the Snifit, Lyrik found a stone nearby and grabbed it. The plan was to try to hit the Toad’s nose and hope it either breaks or causes it to bleed enough for the Toad to get distracted so that the Snifit could get away. Before the Snifit could put their last-ditch effort into motion, with the Toad ready to smack him again with the rebar, someone grabbed the weapon from the Toad and threw it towards the sands far from the three of them. 

Next thing Lyrik knows, the Toad is knocked out from a single punch and the mystery person carries them all the way to the hospital, and that’s when Lyrik found out who was carrying him.

——————————–

“What!” was all Djei could muster at the revelation on who carried the Snifit to the hospital. 

Lyrik slowly nodded his head in agreement as he looked towards the window. 

Like all the other toads in this city, Hole Punch left a bitter taste in Djei’s mouth, especially when the former forced the latter to DJ for him while Djei worked at the Shroom Temple. The two weeks that the Toad was forced to entertain the Legion, or else have their face punched out, was the worst two weeks of the Toad’s life. 

Lyrik still remembers when Djei refused to touch any hole punchers for a solid 2 months or when the Toad broke out in a cold sweat when they looked at a CD. It took a while for the poor Toad to finally use hole punchers and look at CDs without a major reaction.

“It’s true,” Lyrik said to break the silence between them, “I was just as shocked as you were when I first realized who they were… yet… when I looked into their eyes. They weren’t cold or ruthless but…. um… warm.”

“What?” 

“I said that-”

“I know what you said. It’s just that. You called the eyes of a hole punching maniac, warm.”

“It’s because they were. Look, when I realized who they were, I was terrified the entire time they carried me to the hospital… yet when I finally had the courage to look into their eyes. I didn’t find the eyes of a ruthless Legion, but instead the eyes of someone who is trying to find something… it’s hard to explain but… Their eyes were warm… Warmer than anyone I’ve met so far.”

“………. Look. I see that you’ve lost a lot of blood, so I’m just going to head out now. I’ll get you food when I come and visit tonight. Later, Lyrik.”

Djei waved goodbye to Lyrik as the Snifit laid on the hospital bed and dozed off. Dreaming of DJing at the exclusive Desert Jewels at the center of the city.

Meanwhile, Djei tried to process what he learned from Lyrik. Not only is the Guard for the Yellow Streamer back but apparently the Legion is looking for something within the city that never sleeps. 

Whatever the Legion is looking for, Djei hopes they will never find it. 

======================

Djei you will regret those thoughts--

I love this, I love how you characterized Devil, man, it’s great....

[feltaous]

After visiting friends in Calgary, Alberta, I headed for Jasper National Park in B.C. My ride in was with this guy in a big old car. The whole 2 hour ride he always had a cigarette in his mouth and man could this guy talk. He had an opinion about everything. The best part of the ride, though, was the lightening storm ahead as we drove into the Rockies. While he couldn't for the life of him stop talking, every time there was a lightening strike ahead he would cut his train of thought and yell, "Nice one, Lord!!" and then pick up where he'd left off. Two hours of praising the Lord for the light show. Loved it.

In Jasper I went on an 8 day hike, then made my way to the Okanagan Valley to pick apples. I now had 1600 dollars and hit the road for Vancouver Island. I'd heard that magic mushrooms grew all over there. They pretty much grow all along the west coast. I had never tried shrooms but made it my mission to try them.

After a couple of days visiting Victoria, B.C, I hitchhiked north, not really knowing how to find shrooms or someone who could help me. My first ride got me about 1 hour, 1.5 hours, out of Victoria. I went into a supermarket to buy lunch, ate, then stood out in the parking lot. I figured the only thing to do was to wait until I saw a car drive by with people in it that looked like new about magic mushrooms.

Ask and ye shall receive. This big boat of a car, probably from the 70s, comes towards me. There are 4 guys in it that I can just tell know where to go and what to do. I flag them down and, a little awkwardly, explain that I want to go picking shrooms and try them. They huddle. Two minutes later they agree. I throw my backpack in the trunk and get in.

An odd group for all of their appearances. All about my age. Very soft spoken, almost whisper-like. When I went for handshakes their hands were limp. Borderline effeminate. So, no threat here.

We head out to an old pasture. The cow poop made for fertile soil for mushrooms. They showed me what to look for. Light brown stem, light brown cap, dark brown tip on the cap. Then we scatter. I can't for the life of me find these things. Meanwhile, they're grabbing them by the handfuls. God I'm hopeless.

We've got a good stash and we head back to their place. A nice little bungalow in a small town in the forest. We're going to make hot chocolate and throw some mushrooms in.

The first thing I noticed when walking into their house was an inverted pentagram on a door at the end of a hallway. The second thing I noticed was a samurai sword hanging on the living room wall. The third thing I noticed was a copy of Anton Levey's "The Satanic Bible." Not what I was expecting. I mean these guys would get knocked over in a light breeze. I still don't feel threatened.

Hot chocolate with shrooms is made and we sit down for an evening of television. First thing to come on was the Simpson's. And other light fare. I'm thinking I can handle this. The mushrooms are starting to kick in. Sort of an out of body experience. I'm watching the room and all of us from above.

But now we're watching an animated show called Spawn. Ultra-violent is going easy on this. And I'm not quite feeling the magic part of magic mushrooms. I mean who are these guys. How can you come across as being so gentle and enjoy this stuff. To top it off, they play Stephen King's "Carey."

Let's recap. I'm high on shrooms, in a house with an inverted pentagram on a door, samurai sword on the wall, Satanic Bible. How long before they decide to take me to their sacrificial alter behind the door with the pentagram and sever my limbs one by one with the sword before delivering the coup de grace.

I tell them I'm not feeling well. One of them guides me to a bedroom where I can lay down. I ride out the bad buzz. About 2 hours later I get up, walk back to the living room, and announce that I've convinced myself of reality. I spend the night and I'm off the next day.

I am not doing that again... until the next time.

[guynamedultimax]

My take on Brawl Stars lore

GUESS WHO IS STILL ALIVE *points at its own almost dead body injured by Avengers: Endgame, Nintendo’s E3 2019, the latest Brawl Talk from Supercell and the Stranger Things 3 Final Trailer*

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

And I brought you my own take on what is the Brawl Stars universe!

The Old West is ancient history. Welcome to the New West.

Technology got slightly advanced here. Portals to different time periods and  and alternate universes have been created and people from all over these places join the core of the New West, Brawl Town, main residence of the Brawl Games, friendly games that are being made to decide the Ultimate Brawl Stars. Main battles are 3v3 and happen in the Nameless Desert, costantly invaded by meteors, evil Robo Bandits and mysterious shrooms and drinks.

The teams are known as:

THE BANDITS: A group of gentleman thieves on friendly terms with the Junkers.

SHELLY: The leader filled with determination. Some say she has a soft spot for the town sheriff...

RICO: Former pool bot known as Ricochet who discovered his amazing aiming skills and joined Shelly. Lost his original body in a Robo Rumble and received a new one from the Junkers.

BROCK: Gamer from the modern age who stole a rocket launcher from an evil corporation and came into Brawl Town in search of adventure.

THE JUNKERS: A family of redheads who re-use metal junk to build turrets and other robots.

COLT: Only male of the family, Sheriff of Brawl Town with an obsession with his pretty face. Unlike his family he is more of a guns guy.

JESSIE: Colt’s younger sister with a passion for pets, to the point she named her own dog-themed turret Scrappy.

PAM: Leader of the family and a real mama bear. Touch her sons and you’re in for a bad time.

THE PIRATES: A robot pirate crew from overseas who came to Brawl Town for one thing and only one thing: MONEY.

PENNY: A pirate captain who is very good at building robots and cannons, to the point she built her own crew. She is quite competitive and a bit arrogant. Hates Jessie for some reason.

BARRYL: Formerly a barrel filled with gunpowder, Penny built this silent but deadly guy and, therefore, he stays loyal to her and her only.

TICK: Formerly a giant cannon, he was turned by Penny into a metal ball of energy and happiness. He is always with his explosive head in the clouds and loves mines. Some even describe him as a “Pirate Spike” because of his personality.

THE UNDEAD: A group made of vampires, monsters and undead beings. They are on friendly terms with the Mysterious Ones.

MORTIS: A mysterious vampire known as the Bringer of Doom, who is able to resurrect the dead...often with unexpected results (see his comrades). He his quite self-centered and a bit evil, but is still loved by his team and friends.

FRANK: The one time that Mortis tried to use technology instead of his magic to resurrect an undead body, it turned into Frank, an unstoppable, brainless beast...who seems friendly and at ease when listening music.

POCO: Usually when Mortis resurrects people they are under his control. While trying to resurrect a musician who lost all of his fans, somehow, the mind control didn’t work, so Poco has free will. While he bears no ill will towards his teammates (helps Frank with his musical condition and tries to find friends for Mortis), he lives with the Junkers and has more of a relationship with them.

THE LEATHER JACKETS: A group of thugs from Retropolis, a town south of Brawl Town, who give to every challenger they come across the sweetest pain. But they aren’t actually evil.

BULL: Leader of the Leather Jackets and owner of a diner in Retropolis, Bull Blanco has anger issues and LOVES shotguns and football.

CROW: A mysterious bird man who came from nowhere in the Brawl Stars universe who asks for respect and respect only. Even if he is edgy, he is a nice guy who taught Leon his ninja ways. (Spoiler: He is actually an alien sent to study the BS universe by his species who created the Robo Bandits and conquer it from the inside, but now he loves this world and has sworn to protect it. Probably explains why Robo Bandits aremore aggressive towards him.)

BIBI: A girl from Retropolis, who is a bit childish but is brutal with her bat, properly named Mr. Bat. Before Crow arrived she was Bull’s only friend (and crush, but don’t tell her otherwise he’d kill you)

THE TRIBE: The name speaks for itself. What is left of the Indians in the world of the New West.

NITA: A girl with lots of energy and ability in fighting who received from her guardian a gift to protect her: the necklace that summons her inner animal spirit, the Big Baby Bear, to protect her at all costs. Has a crush on her foster sibling.

BO: Leader of the Tribe, who highly believes in the spirits and combines old with new by mixing his unstoppable archery skills with mines crafted by Dynamike. He is very serious and has a strong sense of justice.

LEON: Orphaned at a young age, this kid with a chameleon hoodie from the modern world came into the New West, received ninja lessons from Crow and, thanks to his new family made of Bo and Nita, he learned how to become invisible.

THE MINERS: A squad made of two miners and a bartender who highly specialize in searching gems.

DYNAMIKE: Also known as Old Mike, this former miner is not only good at building robots but also has pyromania and always has a short fuse. The bird in his head is called Birdy by him.

CARL: A knows-it-all robot miner with a childish personality, great ability in throwing his pickaxe, and a love for geology, horrible geology puns and Jessie.

BARLEY: Mike’s first robot, built when he was still a miner to serve him some moonshine. Time passes by and his circuits started fusing,so now he became a Brawler to recieve money to fix all damages done in his bar at Brawl Town.

THE MYSTERIOUS ONES: No one knows who they are or where they came from. They were reunited by their leader to fight in the Brawls.

TARA: A mysterious tarot card reader literally coming from the shadows, but no one knows that...except for Gene, probably.

GENE: A childish genie who came out from a rebellious lamp found by Tara. She sees Tara as his “mommy” and has a SERIOUS love for sweets and especially chocolate cakes.

SPIKE: Last member of the living catcus people, except for their sakura cactus siblings. He is shy and reserved on the outside, but cheerful and happy on the inside. He just never shows it because he is scared he might hurt someone with his, uh...hugs. Tara found him wandering in the desert alone and took him with her.

THE FIGHTERS: Two fighters and a sniper coming from around Brawl Town.

EL PRIMO: Originally a useless no one, Primo got hit by a meteor, receving superpowers and becoming the strongest wrestler in the New West. He is especially good with children and is searching for his brother, who is thought dead (and may actually be). He found him but he can’t recognize him.

ROSA: Primo’s number one fan, a botanist from the jungle west of Brawl Town who is also a boxer and is accompanied by her house plant. She is quite smart and built a lab in the jungle.

PIPER: The Belle of the Brawl herself, Piper de la Prim is usually a lone wolf who grew up learning how to use her umbrella gun and the proper manners. Since all teams were filled, she diced to join the Fighters.

THEIR THEME SONGS

THE BANDITS: Shot Me Down by David Guetta featuring Skylar Grey. It was more of a choice from Shelly and Brock

THE JUNKERS: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, personally chosen by Colt

THE PIRATES: He’s a Pirate by Hans Zimmer. Darryl hates it though.

THE UNDEAD: Thriller by Micheal Jackson, even though Poco prefers Remember Me by Miguel

THE LEATHER JACKETS: They are still undecided. Bull says it should be Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by Wham!, Crow says it’s In the End by Linkin Park and Bibi says it’s Karate by BABYMETAL

THE TRIBE: Nita forced them to choose Great Spirits by Tina Turner, not that Bo minded that anyway.

THE MINERS: Carl ironically proposed Heigh Ho (the one from the Seven Dwarfs). Dynamike unironically chose that.

THE MYSTERIOUS ONES: Gene asked for Friend Like Me by Robin Williams and since they didn’t have any other ideas (and he made a puppy face) they just went with it.

THE FIGHTERS: Rosa wanted to use Eye of the Tiger by Survivor but Primo just kept saying the Guile Theme was suited enough, and even Piper liked that. So they chose the best of both worlds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edPUrkEf_ow

SKINS BACKSTORIES

BANDITA SHELLY: Her self from a dark future in which the Robo Bandits destroyed Brawl Town.

STAR SHELLY: She became a gamer after suggestions from Brock.

PANDA NITA: She usually wears that necklace on Halloween.

HOLIDAY SKINS: They come from the Brawlidays Universe.

SHIBA NITA: In another JP-based universe, she is a normal schoolgirl that summons a bear-shaped shiba to fight bad guys. So kawaii!

ROCKSTAR COLT: Karaoke Night on Friday is a big deal for Colt so he always prepares for the best.

IMPERIAL AGENT COLT: In the same JP-based universe from where Shiba Nita hails, he is literally an imperial agent.

OUTLAW COLT: Hails from the same universe as Bandita Shelly.

VIKING BULL: He dressed up as a viking on Halloween and he even customized the shotgun.

QUARTERBACK/LINEBACKER BULL: Did we mention that Bull LOVES football? Sometimes he even calls it Footbull.

DRAGON KNIGHT JESSIE: They say she hails from a “Royal Clash” universe or something like that. ;)

SUMMER JESSIE/BROCK: They just prepared for summer, that’s all.

BOOM BOX BROCK: His attire back when he lived in the modern world.

LION DANCE BROCK: Sidekick of Imperial Agent Colt.

HOT ROD BROCK: His attire when he took a vacation in Retropolis.

CHEF MIKE: He is quite the bad chef, but he makes it up with his knowledge of spicy peppers.

ROBO MIKE: Comes from the same future as of Outlaw Colt and Bandita Shelly. The problem was an incident with the Robo Bandits. He doesn’t talk about it. Birdy is all that is left of his former self, and even then, he pilots him.

MECHA BO AND MECHA CROW : They got roboticized after a bad incident with the Robo Bandits in the Outlaw Universe (the one from which Robo Mike hails too). Colro variations are made by them to make themselves look cooler. They are what is left of the official Brawl Stars tournament members, the others kidna cut the ties with the “sport”.

EL RUDO: Primo’s darker self who manifested in the Outlaw Universe as a collateral effect of the meteor who hit him and gave him his powers.

EL REY: For special occasions in the battlefield, Primo wears this attire.

GOLDEN BARLEY: Back when he was still a fresh model, Barley used to look like this.

WIZARD BARLEY: You know it.

BAKE SALE BARLEY: In what was the worst moment of his whole life, he worked at Bull’s diner and was forced by Bull to wear that.

MAPLE SYRUP BARLEY: The guy once went to Canada. Canada changed him. Now he loves maple syrup.

SERENADE POCO: He once helped Colt trying to serenade Shelly. It ended with lots of spare shotguns being thrown at them.

LOADED RICO: Back when he was a pool bot, rich people used Rico to store gems. He HATES that.

POPCORN RICO: He also worked at Brawl Town’s cinema for a month or so. He got a popcorn addiction and got fired.

DUMPLING DARRYL: From the universe in which Colt and Brock are secret agents, he is a robot who loves dumplings and supports them in their secret missions.

BUNNY PENNY: During Easter, a prank war between Jessie and her was ongoing. She received a lesson by getting her outfit and cannon modified after hanging Scrappy upside down.

ROAD RAGE CARL: To try to look cool for the Leather Jackets he started dressing up like this. His Outlaw Universe counterpart keeps wearing it.

CAVEMAN FRANK: He dressed up liek this on Halloween.

ROCKABILLY MORTIS: Karaoke Night on Friday is a serious thing for Mortis too.

TOP HAT MORTIS: He once wore a hat that is now lost in time and space.

NIGHT WITCH MORTIS: Mortis once exchanged bodies with a Night Witch from Clash Royale. It was all her fault though.

SAKURA SPIKE: She comes from a similar species to that of Spike, made by sakura catuses. She hails from the same unvierse as Shiba Nita and the Lunar New Year skins.

WHITE CROW: A condition that Crow has is that in the winter he turns his feathers white.

PHONEIX CROW: Crow’s true form.

WEWWWWWWWWWWWW ABOUT DAMN TIME I FINISHED

STICK A FORK IN ME, I’M DOOONE

[frembrulee]

involuntary angel

I’m down by the waterfront, the sun splitting all over the water, going completely crazy, and the water’s more blue than I ever remember it being. It’s been this dull muddy grey-blue for ages and suddenly it’s beautiful and stark, the wind coming up off of it and I’ve forgotten a jacket, I’m just wearing a sweater a friend I don’t talk to anymore gave me, ill-fitting jeans, Adidas all-stars, I really only came down here to buy things to make myself feel better, overpriced K-beauty supplies from Moon Moon Cosmetics and… something else I forget, dry-cleaning or something, but the water’s so beautiful and I’m alone and I can’t help it, I start crying.

Not for the sake of it, like the time last winter I was bored and wandering the city and it was windy, cold, frosty out, it was really bad, I actually think it was a full-on snowstorm but I was underdressed again, and I remember stumbling across the benches facing the water. These benches are always taken, usually by one person, but if you try to share a bench with a stranger they think you’re crazy, but no one was out because it was so miserable. The sea felt melancholy that day, but I didn’t really feel anything. I was bored and I thought it’d be interesting to sit on a bench. So I sat there for a while. A few people in heavy raincoats walked by while I sat there, and I amused myself by thinking about what they must be thinking about a lone girl sitting on a bench near the ocean in the rain. I used to do stuff like that to try to make myself feel better. I’d think that at least I was making other people’s lives interesting, or I’d make them stop and think. Like when I used to cry on the subway trains, on the ride home from school. I felt better about it because at least it was interesting, a girl crying on a train.

But today I actually feel something. Not that I didn’t feel anything those other times. But I haven’t felt anything in a long time this... feelable. I’ve actually been feeling it for two whole weeks. After I break up with my boyfriend I got with over the summer, I suddenly don’t know what to do. And it just builds; he doesn’t talk to me at all afterwards, even though we were friends for almost two years beforehand, and he really tried to convince me that he cared about me. But after the break up, radio silence. At first, I think, yeah, maybe it’s normal not to talk. To ‘give it time’, to get over something. But what the fuck is normal? It was three months of seeing each other nonstop. I think part of it is because we never really clicked, and that’s where it gets iffy — I suddenly think he knew that from the beginning, that we didn’t click. His words when we broke up echo in my head:

“So… do you want to call this off?”

“… Yes, I think so.”

“Me too.”

“Wait, really? Why you too?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the stuff you said before and I think you’re right. I noticed the things you said, but I just wrote them off because I thought we were early in our relationship.”

I’m understanding of this. I tried to break up with him before this conversation, said things like, ‘I still don’t know if I like you.’ I asked him if he felt a spark, and he took a long time before saying, ‘… Yes? I like you and I like hanging out with you.’

Just thinking about it makes me feel like a kid watching an adult film: I feel uneasy and I start to cry but I don’t know why.

So I think I understand, like maybe he didn’t realize we didn’t track exceptionally well, but, after thinking about it, maybe he did realize, deep down. And I start to think, what the fuck. What a fucking waste of time. I honestly get embarrassed; that like, I was a weird fuck-up, but he kept giving me the benefit of the doubt because I was into him. The thing is, during the summer, I was practically manic, whatever that means — more guys had been hitting on me than ever before, I’d been crushing on Chris for a year and he left his girlfriend of five years and we hooked up the next night. I felt funnier and prettier than most of the people around me, like I’d never looked or sounded this good. And suddenly, summer’s over, and I feel like I’m waking up. I’m like, maybe my personality is actually shit. All that cockiness for nothing. Chris has these friends who all have 200 likes on their Facebook profiles, 1,500 Facebook friends, real career jobs, hot girlfriends and boyfriends, and I’m lucky if I get 30 likes and I don’t talk to half of the people I used to. So many people leave; I’m just not that… ‘quality’. I don’t quite think he’s embarrassed he dated me, objectively, but inside his head, I suddenly wonder if he really ever liked me in the first place. I don’t even know.

On top of that, all of my friends are his friends. And none of them have talked to me in a while. They all wanted to date, at one point. I’m that girl. I’m just a dumb girl.

So everything comes crashing down. It’s been two weeks. I walk by the water, and I feel so hopelessly… bad. About myself. I look at the water for so long, thinking it’ll be refreshing, I’ll clear my head, but then the breeze hits and I feel something drop, and I’m on the dock and it’s so sunny, and my eyes are watering, and I dial my mom. She’s worried, tells me it’ll all be okay, that I’m amazing. I’m Serena. She tells me to buy a nice bottle of wine, go home and make myself dinner, have some chocolate. I’m sobbing on the phone near the dock, and not because I want to. I can’t help it — it feels involuntary. Real. Like I did nothing to move it into being. I just existed.

That’s what I imagine love to feel like. Like it happens to you. So this is happening to me. I hang up, and a homeless man comes up to me, starts telling me his story.

“My name is Tim,” he says, after a while, we shake hands. “I’m going home soon, visiting my mom soon, she’s 87. It’s the right thing to do. I’m not going home just to get a warm bed out of it, or anything. But my husband’s sister is a real bitch,” he turns away from me, swearing. “She wants the whole fucking thing, all of it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He tells me he’s a drunk and a druggie, something about losing his son and in the car on the way home, his wife looks at him the same way I’m looking at hime (with teary eyes) and she says, “You know, I chose you over him.”

I never hear what happened to his son because he changes it up with a more lighthearted story about this girl named Kimberly, his girlfriend at the time, who took too many shrooms on Halloween.

“How many did you take, I say,” he says, “and she goes, oh I don’t know, 75. So I’m starting to get it. Me and my buddy, we can take up to 100, but it was her first time taking shrooms. So I turn to my buddy and I say, we wait for a bit, as soon as she starts to turn,” he points his thumb over his shoulder, “we high tail it out of there. Because, you know, you never know how somebody is gonna get. I know how I get.” And then he tells me he’ll answer the Big Question, he doesn’t want to, but he will. “Who did I love more, Kimberly or Denise? Denise, who had it all, the money, the nice house, everything? I’ll say I loved Kimberly more, because she… had… heart.”

He offers me a joint. Later he asks me if I smoke. I almost died, he says. We make jokes about his dad building a boat, him working on a shipyard, how the boats today... don’t function? I don’t really get it. “I wish I had that boat,” he points to a boat with people on it docked a few feet away from us. “Even though it’s shittier than the ones we used to build.” “You should just tell them to get off,” I tell him. “Yeah,” he laughs at the image, I laugh at it too. Then he gets all serious again. He almost died from an aneurysm when he was working behind a bar, and he says that’s when it all started falling apart. It’s not my fucking fault, he says, when can I catch a fucking break. I tell him it’s not your fault, meaning it.

“You’re an angel,” he says. “I know it when I see it. I’ll probably see you in heaven.” “I dont really believe in heaven,” I tell him, not to be a smart ass. I tell him that because I want him to convince me it’s real.

“Yeah.” he says. “I wish I could get a sign. I mean, any fucking sign will do. Anything.” He looks up at the sky. But tell me, seriously,” He looks at me. “Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not scared.” I tell him.

He looks at me for a while, then says, “You’re tired. You’re tired of being scared.” He looks at me some more. “But you don’t even know what you’re scared of, do you?”

I start to cry again, but no one around can see my eyes behind the sunglasses I’ve been wearing this whole time. He can though, he’s close enough. He looks at me through the dark lenses.

“It’s okay,” He says. “You’re an angel, I know it. You’re like Pamela Cooper (or some actress, I didn’t get his references. He called me Corey Hart earlier because of the sunglasses). You really are. I was young once. Life is so hard.”

“I have to go home to do an assignment,” I say.

“When are we gonna meet again?”

I give a big shrug, letting my hands drop so they slap my knees. “Around?” I guess.

“We’ll meet in heaven, he says. Because you’re an angel. I know it.”

“Good luck with your mom,” I tell him.