#mail tag.

[beforus-against-real-justice]

(You receive a package in the mail, with the shipping label written in Minthy's quirk.)

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[castlvry-blog]

go eat seaweed ugly

fuck off fishboy

[puersole]

❛ hang on, i think my pizza rolls are on fire. ❜

                                       ’ h-how can you j-just say that so casually! ‘

shit my teachers have said. | not accepting.

[puersole]

❛ can you hold my gun for a second? ❜

                                      ’ ah -- yeah sure. ‘ implications of the inquired are lost on star-stained boy for a moment, hand plucked delicately from his side in waiting until dawning realization comes in the form of raised brow and blinking eyes. ‘ wait -- g-gun? ‘ 

shit my teachers have said. | not accepting.

[puersole]

i'm my favorite blogger

WELL @lunainem you are also one of my fav bloggers so ill mackle some niceness at ya alsook: ilu and all your muses + your writing is hellarad B)

send me nice messages abt ur favorite bloggers. | accepting.

[puersole]

She's just going to sneak up behind him and start doing chaînés turns around him, just because she can. Besides, she does owe him a little show after the laser pointing incident.

                                     he’s completely oblivious -- luminescent veiled star too absorbed in trying to see his phone ( a battle fought and lost! your light is an enemy you cannot defeat. ) and it’s only when he shifts, perhaps to try a different angle that he catches a glimpse of she and starts with a peculiar noise thrumming his throat.

[puersole]

"Ruri! Cute nickname, right? It was part Haru and then part -rin, so now it's Ruri!" She says this without so much as a pause, the teen shifting in her seat so that she could continue carrying her drawing all the way up the other's arm despite knowing a person was not a canvas in the first place. Floral and geometric patterns are stretched across his skin. "What do you think, Harucchan? Should I call you Ruri or Harucchi?"

                                     ’ ruri? harucchi? a-ah … ‘ blinking flares ignite, starlit boy bites back the small curling of his lips, sloped shoulders rise almost as if shrugging before bones still. ( he might not be a canvas, but he can still act like one. ) ‘ do w-what you want, either is fine. ‘

[puersole]

Do you often think of your mother?

                                    ' i do. i like to ... think of her how s-she was before. but sometimes i c-can’t help but think of how she is now. i think about h-how things could have been different. i’m doing this for h-her -- this whole hero thing. s-so yeah. ‘