@phuuca I DELIVER

"You're losing blood" no I know exactly where it is. The floor. Don't ever underestimate me.

While I like MalMal, I know for a fact that I'd piss my pants seeing some rando outside my (ransacked) dorm while being the only gal in the entire school of asshats

drew in Krita for the first time, only cried once yay :D

im self undiagnosing btw. im totally fine now and everything that happened to me is actually ok. in fact ive never acted traumatized in any situation ever <3

Shoutout to sleepy selfshippers. Reblog if you’re a selfshipper and also tired as fuck.

[ Dividers by @/kodaswrld ]

It occurs to me that there are people who weren’t on this website in 2012 and therefore never saw the magical gif that you can actually hear:

It’s been over five years and that still impresses the hell out of me.

Blitz says

i have to laugh

Can you do one where azul want to make a deal with us for a reason ( you can pick ) but we keep rejecting it all the time?

AZUL X READER

Where he insists you to sign a contract

Where Azul needs to get your attention and form a bond with you, and only knows how to do so through contract proposals…

For the fourth time that week, Azul cornered you outside of the cafeteria.

"You again?" you asked, balancing a tray with a sandwich

Azul adjusted his glasses, that merchant-smile never quite reaching his eyes.

“Ah, just the person I was hoping to see. I have a proposal that I believe would greatly benefit you—”

“Nope,” you said simply, walking past him like this was a regularly scheduled interaction. Which it was.

Azul froze for a second before gliding after you, unbothered.

“You haven’t even heard what it is yet.”

“You’re right. I haven’t. And I’m going to keep it that way.”

You slid into your seat as Ace blinked from across the table.

“You just shut him down like that?” he whispered.

“Every time,” you replied.

Azul stood beside your table like a wet cat someone tossed out into the rain. Composed, but deeply offended.

“I merely wish to assist you with your… less than stellar grades in Crewel's subject. I could offer you a personalized study plan, tutoring sessions, and perhaps even answers—”

“Let me guess,” you interrupted, munching on your sandwich.

“In exchange, I owe you a vague but suspicious favor to be determined at a later date, signed in blood or something.”

Azul’s smile twitched. “Ink. But close.”

“Still no.”

It kept happening.

He tried offering you a deal to get out of Vargas's class (“No.”), better potion ingredients (“Still no.”), and even limited-edition desserts from Mostro Lounge (“Azul, that’s just bribery with extra steps.”)

You’d be lying if you said he didn’t intrigue you. The way his smiles were rehearsed, the way he always had a backup plan.

There was something almost sad about how badly he wanted people to need him.

Like he didn’t know how to be wanted without strings attached.

One evening, he tried again.

You were studying near Octavinelle dorm when he appeared like a shadow.

“This will be my last offer,” he said quietly. “I know you want a way to contact your world. I can give you that.”

That one actually made you pause.

“...How?”

“I’ve found a rare communication mirror. It may allow messages to pass through dimensions. Temporarily. If—”

“No.”

Azul's smile faltered completely this time.

“But—why?” His voice was low. Genuine.

You looked up at him, eyes soft for once.

“Because I don’t want anything from you that costs me more than you’re willing to admit. And I think you’re the one who needs to ask why you’re so desperate to tie me down with a contract.”

His lips parted, and for the first time, Azul Ashengrotto didn’t know what to say.

You closed your book and stood. “If you want me around, you can just ask.”

And with that, you walked off.

However, you turned around, with a small smile.

"Tomorrow, instead of asking me if I want to sign a contract, ask me if I want to have a date with you that has nothing to do with signing papers. We'll see the answer then."

Leaving Azul in silence, a breeze tousling his hair—no contracts, no ink, just the bare possibility that someone might like him… without the deal.