#nonono but can you BELIEVE that

[finsplurtz]

virginbitch — gojo.satoru

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Gojo Satoru

— contents : Virgin bitch Gojo , mentions of boy pussy , virginity loss , jerking off , drunk Gojo for a min , mirror sex , gagging choking , overstim , degrading nd praising

warnings : like choking but nun too srs idk

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Gojo satoru is a MAJOR virgin. I KNOW .. CRAZY.

His fossil ass hadn’t lost his virginity yet, he’s been waiting for “the right person” but nobody seems to catch his eye…

Till yn was introduced.

It was kinda funny when they met uhm Gojo was having silly conversation with Yuji about girlfriends n shi and like…

“So you don’t have a girlfriend? Are you a virgin?”

“Nonono! I’m not a virgin Yuji cmon I’m literally a lady magnet. I used to fuck girls left and right in highschool! I just don’t have a girlfriend right now because nobody really seems to grab my att…-“ He fell quiet when the finest guy to ever fucking exist walked in.

Yujis confused and looks at yn and he’s like “OH YN, you’re here!” He’s so happy to see them. Yn smiled and pulls Yuji into a hug spinning him around.

“Lord, it’s been so long! You still look adorable” He ruffled Yuji’s hair who giggled.

“Oh- by the way, this is my teacher, yn meet Gojo, Gojo meet yn. Old friend” Yuji stepped aside and yn held his hand out and shook Gojo’s.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo” the way his name rolled off his tongue made him bite the inside of his cheek.

“Nice to meet you too..yn..” Gojo smiled sickly.

Yuji grabbed yn’s wrists and pulled him around excited to show him everything he’d learnt. Gojo was bewildered. I mean yn was fucking- jaw dropping handsome!

Gojo was too busy to worry about a girlfriend. He never really thought he’d be jerking off to some fucking guy he met that same day…

Gojo was a very flirty guy, he’s always flirting with women who’d obviously get down on their knees for him if he asked and yet still he finds nothing interesting about them.

He can lie about not being a virgin and have people believe him, but as soon as this hunk, yn, asks him about it, he’s a stuttering mess.

“Hm. So you’re realll experienced mister Satoru~?” Yn tilted his head looking at Gojo’s blindfold who obviously flushed red.

“Y..yes..yes I am!” He cursed himself out in his head for sounding too excited.

“Yeah? what about with a guy..” yn smirked watching Gojo’s lip tremble slightly.

“Uh-h..huh…” Gojo’s mouth was slightly open as he nodded making the other chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, Satoru.” Yn gently closed Gojo’s mouth before walking off.

Gojo was a sensitive guy when it came to his dick, he’s never been inside anything at all. He was now rutting into his pillow pretending it was yn.

“Ugh..I’m y-your good b..haa…boy..y-yn….” His body shook like crazy when he came on his pillow like never before. He was panting like a dog feeling lazy about cleaning up.

He sat up and looked at the mess he made before sighing and throwing the whole pillow away.

Now he can’t even look at yn’s face at all. Cause he gets reminded of what he did that night, it’s not like he’s guilty or anything he genuinely just might go red..

Well he got closer to yn, always being around each other, doing the same things everyday. It was a routine they both loved.

Gojo grew to genuinely feel attracted to yn, he loved his personality and looks. He’s not scared of homophobia or anything I mean he’s the strongest guy alive, what’s there to be afraid of?

They went out drinking one night and since Gojo is obviously, a light weight, he got drunk pretty fucking fast. He tried to keep up with yn but ended up getting himself fucked up instead.

Yn was dragging Gojo back to his house and lied him on his bed getting him some water.

“Satoru, drink” He sat the white haired male up and handed him the drink.

“N…no it’s too hic h..hot..” He pushed the drink away and tried to take his shirt off but yn stopped him.

“‘Toru- if you’re hot maybe you should take this fucking..blindfold off” yn slid the cloth off Satoru’s head and his eyes widened at this guys eyes…

“Your eyes…” He whispered pushing some hair out of Gojo’s face who blushed looking into yn’s hues.

“They’re gorgeous..” He smiled making Gojo’s insides spin.

“Take my..c-clothes o hic off…” He whined successfully pulling his shirt off leaving him only in his pants. Yn scoffed and grabbed Gojo’s jaw forcing him to look at him.

“Drink…the water.” Yn held the bottle of water up to Gojo’s lips who pulled away and tapped yn’s lips.

“No, you drink..”

‘Tsk’ yn filled his mouth with water and kissed Gojo with tongue allowing the water to go into the others mouth.

Gojo wrapped his arms around yn’s neck and didn’t let go of the kiss. Exploring the guys mouth.

Gojo moaned into the kiss and bit yn’s lip who quickly pulled away.

“Satoru you’re- drunk. No more kissing..just drink the water.”

Gojo again protests but yn forces him to open his mouth and shoves water down his throat getting it everywhere on his body and face.

“Ugh..I’m all wet y-yn…’nd it’s y-your f..fault hic” yn looked away blushing. He flinched when Gojo lied him flat on the bed and straddled him.

There was a big mirror facing the bed and Gojo could see himself. He shuffled before sighing and just knocking out on top of yn.

Next morning he freaks out, stuck in yn’s embrace.

“you good?” yn checked.

“Feel….like shit.” Gojo grumbled trying to hide how red his face was.

“Since you’re sober…wanna fuck?”

Gojo’s beautiful eyes widened.

—

“AGH- UGH MMM!~” Gojo screamed arching his back while watching himself in the mirror get fucked like a slut.

Yn’s hips pounded into Gojo’s ass, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room along with the sweet smell of sex.

“Gosh…look at you..taking my cock so well~ your virgin boy pussy isn’t complaining about it at all..~” yn smirked devilishly grabbing Gojo’s hair and forcing him to look at himself in the mirror.

“‘s t-too much!~ co-ck sho’ b..big..” he moaned as yn let go of his hair.

“I should put your fuckin’ mouth to work..” yn shoved his fingers into Gojo’s mouth, having him gag and choke on his fingers.

“Goood boy~ you’re my good little whore aren’t you Satoru..?~” Gojo smiled and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“‘m your g-good..boy..! All yourz..~” He screamed and shook violently as he came so hard all over the sheets.

“Hah- first time and you’re already a fucked out mess!” Yn laughed watching Gojo’s face contort at the overstimulation of his prostate still getting abused.

When they finished, Gojo’s body was completely weak. It hurt and he couldn’t even stand up. Good thing he didn’t really need to, yn doing basically everything for him.

He cleaned the male up nicely, tucked him into bed and cuddled.

Gojo is having trouble walking as of lately.

i have a million fics of this man i need him butt booty naked

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x male reader #male reader #top male reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #sub gojo satoru #smut #gojo x reader #gojo x male reader #dom top reader

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers after accidentally making mc cry

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

(did I do this before??)

content warnings: kind of mean/ concerning behavior for some of these men, crying

-----

Lucifer

he knows he messed up the second he sees you tear up and he wants to hug you and apologise but guess what his prideful self said

'stop crying mc, you're being ridiculous.' with his arms crossed

and what was it all for? lucifer was a little too stressed and took it out on you

he'd distance himself from you for a while before giving you flowers on a random tuesday afternoon in hopes you'd forgive him

Mammon

mammon immediately panics when he realises you're crying because of me

he reaches out to hold you and say 'I'm sorry' over and over again but then realises that's not the best move right now

after you've been alone for a while in your room mammon slides a note under the door saying 'you okay? can we talk'

if you say yes mammon apologises (while nearly crying himself) and buys you a whole car the next day

Leviathan

he's gonna hate himself for the next week

plus he thinks you're gonna hate him forever now

levi literally runs away from you after you start crying because he feels so bad and doesn't know what to do

about an hour later he comes back with his azuki-tan pillow, gives it to you, and then leaves again

if you tell him you forgive him he won't believe you for a moment

Satan

he's maybe a little mean about it and realises that after he said the little mean stuff

'look, mc, I'm very sorry but is this reaction really warranted for?' (hons thought everyone cries once per blue moon like him for a while there)

after realising those words only made it worse he decides to give you some space, he'll apologise properly after you've stopped crying

he also takes you to the street cats he regularly feeds if you want to see them

Asmodeus

oh no what did he do what if you hate him now? what if he messed up so badly that the mere sight of him is enough to make you feel revolted, distressed or afraid?

he's like 'nonono mc look it's fine, here I'm going to paint your nails'

asmo has trouble giving you space because he's so afraid of the possibility that you hate him now, but he does realise he needs to leave you alone

after what happened you have to tell him you forgive him because he might not approach you

Beelzebub

he instantly regrets getting mad over a slice of cake in the fridge

beel immediately apologises after spotting tear number one in your eyes

if you're okay with it he'll give you a big hug and will rub your back to help you calm down again

even if you tell him you're not upset anymore, beel doesn't fully believe you

this mistake of his will be haunting him for a long time, he keeps trying to 'win your trust back' by doing sweet things

Belphegor

'oh.. I'm sorry' and then leaves because he doesn't know what to do and he's ashamed of himself

belphie doesn't know when is a good time to check on you, or should he even check on you at all, does he buy you a gift?

because this man doesn't care too much when he upsets one of his brothers (other than beel) but when it's you? he can't sleep properly for the next week

in the end he does decide to get you a stuffed animal to really show you how sorry he is

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #gn!mc #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #obey me angst

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ comfort ❞ - ,, nishimura riki

pairing bf!niki x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff, non idol au ୨୧ wc 1k req; prompt 8 'washing the other's hair' & dialogue 25 “believe me, i will never be tired of you.”

you had never seen niki panic like that before. he immediately rushed to the next room, calling for jungwon to help him. when he returned, he wiped away your tears and bombarded you with countless questions.

as you drove to the emergency room, niki held your hand tightly, continuing to wipe your tears away and occasionally planting kisses on your temple, whispering apologies into your ear.

dealing with the cast on your arm was irritating, but what was perhaps more frustrating was having to ask for help with everything. it almost saddened you that niki had to be by your side every second of the day.

you now found yourself in the kitchen, attempting to make a cup of tea when niki entered the room.

"hey, hey," he said, rushing over to you and taking the cup from your hand. "let me help you, baby."

you sighed, wanting to do it yourself, it wasn’t like you had your arm.. well.. you in fact had a broken arm. but it just frustrated you. you didn't want to burden niki so much, knowing he had his own responsibilities, especially with his job. "niki, i can manage it on my own," you said, unable to hide your sadness.

"let me do it for you; you need to rest," his voice was firm and almost commanding.

another heavy sigh left your lips as you sat down on the chair nearby. you started to think, spacing out. how were you going to ask him to help you change? or shower? first, it was too embarrassing. second, you just couldn’t. even though you’re injured, you’re not able to ask for help.

"so annoying..." you whispered, your eyes widening when you realized you'd spoken aloud. thankfully, niki didn't seem to notice.

he turned toward you, resting his hands on your head as he patted it. "niki, no," you protested. "my hair is greasy; don't touch it."

"do you want me to help you wash it?"

"god, no, please no. niki, i love you, but this is not what i meant," you thought to yourself, unable to respond.

you couldn't answer as niki got distracted from his initial task of making tea for you. before you knew it, you were being led into the bathroom, and niki instructed you to rest your head on the bathtub.

"nonono, my neck hurts like this," you said when the cold tub pressed into your skin.

he quickly grabbed a towel and placed it underneath your neck, so it now rested on a warm towel. niki adjusted the shower head's temperature on his hand before letting the water flow over your head.

"tell me if it's too hot or cold, okay?" he asked, and you simply hummed in agreement.

after a few seconds, you felt the warm water gently flowing through your hair. niki thoroughly wet your hair and then applied shampoo, carefully massaging it into your hair. a sound of discomfort escaped your lips when niki tugged a bit too hard on your hair while working the shampoo in. "was i too rough? i'm sorry," his voice filled with guilt. it made you wonder if he found helping you a burden. perhaps he didn't want to help you at all, and he was doing it out of pure pity because you were injured. unable to hold back the tears any longer, they began to trickle down your cheeks. luckily, niki hadn't noticed yet. he finished foaming your hair with shampoo and grabbed the shower head to rinse off the foam. only then did he realize that your cheeks were wet when they shouldn't be.

"y/n? can you open your eyes for me?" he asked. you were hesitant, fearing that he would feel even more burdened, but after a moment or two, you slowly opened your eyes. niki took another towel and wrapped it around your head, gently pulling you up.

"why are you crying, angel?" he asked in a simple yet emotionally charged question. his worry was evident in his voice, and it caused you to sob even more.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered before he pulled you into a comforting hug. "what?" he chuckled.

 "why are you saying sorry? i was expecting a thank you, not an apology," he chuckled, trying to brighten the atmosphere that filled the room.

niki’s comforting presence eased the tension. his chuckle was like a soft melody in the room, a gentle reminder that despite the challenges, there was space for laughter. he held you, letting you take your time to compose yourself, never rushing, simply being there.

as your sobs subsided, you managed a watery laugh at his unexpected response. "thank you," you said, feeling like saying these words wasn’t enough for all he was doing for you.

with a tender smile, niki brushed away your tears. "you never have to thank me for being here for you. it's what we do for the people we love, right?" his sincerity wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

you nodded, feeling the weight slowly lift from your shoulders. "i just hate feeling so helpless."

"it's okay, angel," niki said, his voice calm and soothing. "i promise, i'll be here for as long as you need. believe me, i will never be tired of you. we’ll get through this together, alright?"

those words echoed in your mind, wrapping around your heart with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time, tears of gratitude. "thank you for being so patient with me," you whispered, feeling the depth of his commitment.

niki smiled, a softness in his eyes. "always. now, let’s finish up here, and then i’ll make sure you’re comfortable."

requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki scenarios #niki soft hours #niki x you #riki x you

[tang3r1n]

❝𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓!❞

Shig is stuck at the single worst party of his life— until he spots that cutie from his biochem class.

warnings; dub/noncon, AFAB/FEM READER anal ref for like a second, unprotected sex, drunk/drugged reader, yandere-coded shig,, slut-shaming, incel-ish shig, dabi got too drunk and kinda screwed reader over, drugging(?), college au, i’m gonna redo this eventually, gross descriptions

a/n; this is my (late) secret santa gift and New Years present for the illustrious @mamayan !! i hope i did your dirty man justice, this was a part of @/ectologia’s amazing Secret Santa 2023 event they hosted!! both of these authors are big inspirations to me and i’m so glad i was able to be a part of this!

This New Years party was horrendously lame. shitty music, shitty lighting, shitty drinks; the whole thing was just an excuse for idiotic college frat douches to get wasted and fuck pretty little cheerleaders for the umptenth time.

Shigaraki watched with tepid interest as Dabi was cheered on by idiotic college students chugging his twentieth beer, scoffing as the drunk man raised his arms in triumph and let out a slurred war cry, already stumbling around. He was already sick of this place, the smell of pot and vomit burning his nostrils, just as he thought to dump his cheap booze away and kick rocks Dabi sauntered over to him, practically dragging another person with him.

Tomura felt his back immediately straighten, bloodshot red eyes widening as he saw your giggly attitude and cute little outfit. You were his shamefully massive crush from his chemistry class, the teacher’s student grader who left cute smiley faces and sweet memos on all his reports, always smiling and helpful and so so so kind to everyone. Shigaraki often got carried away staring at you during labs, watching as you bent over, how your lab coat was seemingly tightened just enough to where he can see your luscious curves, how your pretty hair falls so perfectly messy from your chaotic bun, ‘wonder how she’d look if i spread her out on this table—examine her..’

Dabi poked his chest harshly, a drunken grin plastered on his face as he held up in a mock chokehold, “lis’n h-hic!-here.. yer gonna take m’new girl n make sh-braap!-sure she ge’shome safe, kay?” Tomura rolled his eyes at his friend’s drunken speech, letting Dabi clap a hand on his shoulder to steady himself as he watched you giggle and pat Dabi’s back comfortingly. Your own cheeks were darkened and he could see the sway in your stance. Tomura couldn’t help but feel a twinge of emotion at Dabi’s declaration of you being ‘his new girl’ as he finally scoffed and pulled away, his frustration coming off as annoyance.

“Why am I in charge of your ‘new girl’?” he hissed, eyes narrowed. Your smile dropped and his gut wrenched at the sight knowing it was his fault, but he couldn’t help the little twitch of his cock at your glossy lips stuck in a cute pout. Dabi frowned and shoved the taller man harshly, stumbling a bit as he did, “dude fuck off, she’s jus’a sweet gal, wanna make sure she don’t get snatched up-hic!-I obvi’sly can’do it,” he chided, poking at Shigaraki’s chest. You interjected, pretty manicured fingers and bracket decorated wrists waving in protest, “no no no nonono, h-he don’t need to do that, ‘ll be f-fine!” you slurred and Tomura sighed, pinching his brows to hide the absolute jubilation he was experiencing. He couldn’t believe his luck— literally being hand-delivered the girl of his (wet) dreams on the shiniest of silver platters. He kept up the act, however, not wanting you to see his desperation, “nah, nah, you’re both stumbling like fucking morons, lemme go grab my shit,” he turned on his heels, calling over his shoulder, “go grab yours.” hearing your heels ‘click! click! click!’ off as you ran to get your cute purse.

“T-tomura I-ahh!” you whined and cried into your pillow, the fabric soaked and caked in your tears and makeup. You screamed as he pushed your back down into a sinfully painful arch, cock sloppily thrusting into your poor cunt. All you’d done is asked for help taking your massive heels off, bending down to untie the long, crossed straps as he snuck up from behind using his, very surprising, strength to grab and yank you up over his shoulder. You gasped and twisted, pounding on his back with your fists as he stumbled through your tiny apartment just off campus. It was only now that you regretted never agreeing to the on-campus dorms.

His whiny pants seemed to infect your very soul, bright red, bloodshot eyes staring down at you in such a creepy way, like he feared blinking would ruin his moment with you. Not like this was much of a fond moment being made, panties hanging off your ankle, shirt and bra ripped, literally ripped in half, hair frizzy and messy from his constant pulling and tugging. You felt disgusting; dizzy and nauseous, wet and gross with how loud your own pussy was squelching, the blunt ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his balls against your puffy lips send chills of disdain and pleasure up your back, making your already jumbled brain that much more scattered.

He was so touchy, his clammy hands pinching and prodding at all your fat and curves, frantic in their path all over your sweaty skin. Shigaraki’s entire form was frantic, hips stuttering and basically humping you while his cock twitched wildly, arms and thighs quivering at he pinned you down, drool, literal spit, splattering against your face and neck as he openly crooned and moaned like a bitch in heat. You felt so violated as he praised your body, talking about ‘all those lonely nights’ and how he ‘spent so many labs with a hand down m’pants-“ god he was a fucking pervert.

You whined as his thumb found your clit, rubbing fast circles and sending a wave of pleasure through you, another wave of nausea following soon after as you bit back bile, there was no fucking way you were gonna cum from this degenerate raping you. But alas, try as you might your biology was working against you, thighs and cunt clenching around him and his cock as you neared your high. His laugh was cracks and hoarse as he leant down, greasy pale-blue hair tickling your nose as he licked a stripe up your face, drinking your tears, “mmfh—! fuck, y’gonna cum? huh?” he tried, rubbing tight circles onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. You thrashed in what little movement you could, sobbing and shaking your head, “N-NO, NEVER, YOU F-FUCKING PERV—“ he cut off your screams with a harsh swat to your pussy, causing a full body shake as you tipped over the edge.

Perhaps you would’ve been embarrassed if not blinded by the white-hot pleasure of your forced orgasm, mouth agape in a silent scream as your cum cremend his cock, creating a frothy ring of white at his base. Tomura giggled out a disgusting laugh, wiping the milky mixture and smearing it into your messy face, cooing at your disheveled appearance as he sped up his sloppy thrusts.

Just as you came down from your high, his hand suddenly pinned you back down by the neck, quickly cutting off any air as he whined above you, eyebrows creased as he fucked into your hot, messy pussy, “g-gonna cum— fill up y’pretty pussy,” he whined, using his thumb to softly poke and prod at both your lips and little puckered hole and causing you to jolt, tightening up around his again and sending Toura over to his own climax.

His ‘big o’ face was obscured by his tangled, dirty hair, a pathetically noisy groan resonating as he stilled inside you, pump after pump of warm, thick cum shot right in you. You cringed, so weak from your own finish that you did nothing but whine in protest as he slowly slipped his cock out, instantly jamming two of his lengthy fingers back in to keep his cum night and snug.

“Happy New Years, I—“

“fucking pervert.”’

#.venus updated! #.v speaks #..mha #..shigaraki #mha smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura smut #mha shigaraki #mha shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #tw drunk #tw dubcon #tw noncon #x female reader #afab reader

[c-nstellati-ns]

I'd like to believe that vampires go into heat, so sometimes during that period, you wake up from a wet dream, just to lift your blanket and find Dio under there slobbering over your hard on as he desperately palms at the tent in your pants while struggling to get your pants off. You only ever see Dio in such a horny irrational frenzy when he's really worked up or nearing climax, but you haven't even touched him yet and he's on the verge of tears. All he wants is some relief and to be bred. You cant help but chuckle at this unbecoming sight of so called "Lord Dio"/ "Dio-sama", so you decide to have more fun with it. You'll only give him what he wants if he can ride your thigh and hold off cumming until you say so. Needless to say, he failed. He did not last particularly long, but his whorish whiny begging got you consider going easy on him. You toss him backwards onto the bed, his legs slung over your shoulders as you tease his hole until he's sobbing for you to just put it in already. You fold him into a breeding press and your mouth latches onto his nipple as you sheathe yourself into the right ring of that Brandussy. He instantly crumbles into a mess. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's just a common whore instead of a 100+ year old being who's transcended human mortality. With each thrust, spurts of his pre cum shoot onto his tits. If anyone on the other side of the bedroom door were to hear the happenings from the inside, they'd probably assume Dio is toying with another unfortunate woman who'll soon become his next meal. His face is contorted into a splendid teary eyed ahegao as he babbles and claws at your back. Just as you feel he's about to come, you pull out and lean back. Absolutely dumbfounded, he sits up with a pout. You feign boredom, "you useless hole. Your worth boils down to a mere toy for me to use for pleasure, and you can't even get me remotely close to climax? Do you think you deserve to cum before me? You didn't even listen to me the first time and I let it slide." Dio's eyes widen, and tears cascade down his cheeks. "nonono please, I'll do anything, pleaseplease I just want your cum. What can I do? I- I just-", he sobs. You grab his cheeks and force his face close to your own. "I'll give you one last chance. Ride me. If you can last until after I come, I give you full permission for you to do so as well." Dio wastes no time mounting you and bouncing on your cock. You sit back with your hands behind your head and enjoy the show. You watch as the bulge in his abdomen appears and disappears inside him, the way his eyes roll painfully back into his head when your tip continuously pounds his sweet spot. You're also very much enjoying the bouncing of his tits to the rhythm of his movements. The girlish moans he lets out only encourage your quickly incoming climax. He's putting on a real spectacle for you without really trying. You wouldn't trade this view for anything. You finally let go and fill him to the brim with your seed with a sigh. The feeling of your warmth spreading through his lower half pushes Dio to his own climax. He throws his head back in a silent scream, and collapses onto your chest. Thoroughly satisfied he nestled his face in the crook of your neck. Your cock slips out of him and your cum seeps out of his gaping hole and onto the bed. Dio revels in the feeling of the sheer amount of seed pouring out of him as he embraces the wave of fatigue that has just washed over him. Well, you'll deal with the cleanup later. His face is totally serene. You find yourself staring at his features: his partly open mouth, drool threatening to breach his lips, and his eyes, usually filled with fire and emotion, now closed and relaxed. Your hand makes its way to his hair to twirl a strand towards his neck as your heavy eyes also push you to your own slumber. -that anon

Fucking hell I need to sleep it's almost 3am

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!! i genuinely wish both sides of your pillow are cold tonight and you get a hearty healthy 8 hours of lovely rest along with it.

but when you do eventually both wake up, dio is clinging onto you tightly, refusing to let you go. he refuses to acknowledge how he acted the night before, but when you press close and mutter, "so you wouldn't like it if i pushed you down right now and knocked you up all over again?" the noise he makes after is equivalent to that of a dying goose and scoffs, trying to deny it,, but you know the truth <3 tho he wouldn't exactly mind if you did try to get him pregnant,,,

#achilles' thirsts ⭐ #💖✨️ — 'that' anon #YOU ARE SO SEXY AND BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU :] #terence had one hell of time cleaning that room up after LMFAO #sub jjba #jjba smut #sub dio brando #sub dio #dio x male reader #dio x reader #dio brando x reader #dio brando x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #dom male reader #dom reader #top reader #male reader #x male reader insert #sub character

[onginlove]

behind the mask

pairing: 42!miles x black!fem!reader

summary: y/n only knows prowler as prowler, not miles.

warnings: cussing

a/n: i saw a post abt this and used it as inspo for this fic ❤️

masterlist | taking 1610 miles requests

i was sitting in class with a group of girls surrounding me, asking me to tell more stories about my “so called boyfriend”.

im dating the prowler and nobody believes me. yea, the prowler. he’s often seen as a villain but he’s really a vigilante and sweet man.

“and he gave me flowers!”

“deadass?”

“yea, i still have them. i can bring them if you want.”

the group of girls shared a glance and chuckled

“yea, you can ‘bring your flowers that the prowler gave you.’”

“you don’t believe me, do you?”

“cmon, you think the prowler would date you? puh-lease.”

i mean, she’s not wrong. why would the prowler date me?

“i- i have nicknames for him.”

“like what? boogie bear?”

“actually, i sometimes call him pumpkin.”

“yea ma?”

we all turned around to see miles head lifted with our full attention.

“oh, uh, im on the phone.”

“weirdo.”

MILES POV

i smacked myself in my head to realize how embarrassing that was. honestly, it’s weird seeing my girlfriend at school, especially knowing that we don’t talk. well, that she don’t talk to miles.

i quickly went back on my phone and tried to play it cool but i could tell i was still getting some stares

i need to shut up

-

as i wait for y/n to show up at our usually spot-a roof top in the middle of the city.

i hear the roof door open to see y/n with a big smile on her face

“hi!”

“hey! took you long enough.”

“sorry, the streets were a lil crowded.”

“nah, it’s aight.”

“i have the craziest thing to tell you.”

“what?”

“there’s this guy in my class, his name is miles, and when I said one of your nicknames, he answered to it.”

“really?”

“yup. I can’t ever imagine him being you, or a prowler even. he’s a good kid, a lil twig, he barely talks, and get his work done.”

“so, your saying im a bad person that talks a lot?”

“nonono-“

“don’t worry mi sol, i know.”

when I went to go sit by the edge of the building, she quickly followed and sat next to me

“miles is good a basketball though. like, really good. there is a chance.”

“because of his athletic-ness?”

she just chuckled and put her hand on mine.

“will you ever show me who you are?”

“when the time is right.”

she startled at me with a smile and turned back to the city. she then leaned into me.

“yea.”

comment if I should make a part 2 @faeriesberries

#📝💙onginlove writes #miles morales fic #atsv fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x you #miles morales x black!reader #e!42 miles morales #atsv #prowler miles #atsv prowler #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #atsv miles #atsv x you #spiderman atsv #itsv 2 #itsv #spiderverse itsv #spiderman itsv #spider verse #into the spiderverse

[shinekocreator]

based on this amazing prompt by @ghost-bxrd (it's hella ooc, but if you wanted it in character, you wouldn't be here)

⚠️Tw: mentions of death, stopped heart, panic, fear⚠️

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONO!

They weren't supposed to find out, at least, not like this.

His heart, which just a few moments ago wasn't beating at all, is now beating too fast, too loud, too strong.

He wants to move, to say something, to do something, but he can't. His lungs are still empty, so he starts breathing, too short, too fast.

This isn't good. They're not supposed to know, not supposed to see.

How could he let this happen? Why did he even agree to this stupid sleepover? Now they're all going to know.

All of them?

Panic creeps into his mind. What if he finds out? He can't find out.

He takes a look around the room, Dick is holding him, and he says something that Jason can't hear. Damian looks scared and on the verge of tears. Tim is in the corner holding Cass's hand, trying to reassure her that everything is alright, even if he doesn't believe so himself. Steph and Duke aren't in the room. He has no idea where they could've gone. Barbara is on her laptop, probably searching for a course of action.

"... Just breathe in slowly. " he can finally make out what Dick is saying. So he does just that, trying to slow his breathing and heartbeat, using Dick's voice as both a guideline and an anchor.

It works. He can talk now. He pulls Damian into a hug, which Damian doesn't reject. "I'm alright, Baby Bird, I'm alright."

Damian starts sobbing into his arms. "Your heart, it stopped, and you, you weren't breathing and I, and I don't know what to do because I don't want you to die again!"

"I'm not. You guys aren't getting rid of me so easily," he jokes, then kisses Damian's head. Damian doesn't flinch or move away. He must be really concerned then.

Jason turns to Dick "what exactly happened?"

"Just like Damian said, your heart stopped, so did your breathing. Does this... Happen often?"

Jason nods. He's not sure what to say.

Then Tim speaks "What the actual fuck Todd?! You have any Idea how scared we were? Why didn't you say anything?"

Jason slowly gets up and goes to hug Tim. He can't seem to find the right words.

Tim pushes him away with a horrified expression. "Dude, you're freezing cold!"

Hearing that, Cass brings him the warmest blanket she can find. "No more cold," her warm smile is radiant, Jason wants to hug her but knows he shouldn't.

Barbara comes closer and helps wrap the blanket around him. She doesn't need to say anything.

Jason pulls her into a hug, then brings in Dick, Cass joins them soon after, and so do Tim and Damian.

It's not as cold anymore, Jason feels warmth spreading throughout his body.

After they let go of him, Jason finally pays some mind to the absence of people in the room.

"Where's Steph? And Where's Duke?"

Dick rubs the back of his neck. NO NO NONONO!!

"They went with Alfred to calm Bruce down."

NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Jason removes his grip from the blanket, letting it fall to the floor as he attempts to escape and leave the manor altogether, but the presence of a man in the doorway stops him in his tracks.

Jason takes a step back, and right before he manages to turn around and run for the window, two strong arms wrap around him, pulling him in for a hug.

And Jason fully breaks down.

Bruce holds him while he sobs and whimpers, giving him a moment to let everything out and calm down a little.

"It's alright, I'm still here. You're still here. We're still here." Bruce says, whether to Jason or himself, no one knows.

Jason can feel Bruce shaking. He tries to grasp the fact that Bruce cares and wants him around. Tries to process that Bruce was scared, terrified of the thought of Jason dying again.

Jason takes notice of the tears running down Bruce's face, moving his hand up to gently wipe them away.

"I'm still here, old man, I'm not dying again."

That's the last thing he says before he allows himself to relax and hug Bruce back, after mouthing a quick "thank you" to Stephanie, Duke, and Alfred, knowing he's wanted and loved by his family.

#batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #hurt/comfort #drabble #shinekowrites #fear #stopped heart #death #tw death #lazarus pit

[roturo]

hellooo can u do actor!chishiya x actress!reader where it's their first time acting w eo in a movie and they already have an nsfw scene or sumn and fans just went crazy bcs its rumored they kinda hate each other 😳 (they actually don't tho they just have this RAGING SEXUAL TENSION)

CINEMA

“I bring the pop to the cinema.

You pop when we get intimate”

CHISHIYA X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW. (NO SMUT)

PT2

(I’m thinking of doing a part 2 thats like when the movie comes out and they have an interview and they just ykyk, but idk, maybe if this gets support, I really like this idea 😭, Hope you like it! 💘)

  (Y/N) (L/N) does not fuck around with co-stars. Ever since you started acting at the young age of eight, you were always told by your mom, manager, and others in the industry to avoid casual, co-star related hook ups. Yeah, you had some crushes here and there when you were a teenager, but you stayed loyal to your vow. They remain as good friends, nothing more.

You were amazing, you had a glorious career. Not getting into any scandal, problems, etc. You decided to take the easy route and avoid getting in to a relationship.

Now, It was the first day of shooting from the new movie you’re staring. You were really relaxed actually. Most of the times you don’t know with who you’re acting with since you met them the same first day of shooting.

They just had finished doing your hair and makeup when the movie director comes in.

“Miss y/n, my dear y/n! Good morning everybody!” He said to everybody in the room. “I have some great news for you!” Am I getting another role for your next movie? omgomg 

“It’s time for you to meet your romantic interest in this movie” Oh. That…

He gave you playful smile like if it’s like he’s playing something, then he clapped his hands creating some tension. “Everyone, meet Mr.Shuntaro!”

No way.

Chishiya Shuntaro?!?!?!

You didn’t even realized you said that aloud until you saw a very schoked Chishiya too.

Shit.

I mean, like there’s nothing wrong working with The Chishiya Shuntaro y’know?… only that there’s a lot of “beef” between the both of you. Or that’s what fans like to call it. And don’t get me wrong! There’s nothing going on with both of you….

Well… maybe fans believed both of you hate eachother since in an awards event, the two of you were sat together and you couldn’t stop looking at him. It got you so nervous being next to another co-star and having some dating rumors with them. So most of the time you gave him that ‘ew’ look. But in your defense, it’s better having beef with some co-star rather than a dating rumor!

But let’s be real… you were just masking your eyes full of lust for him just to prevent any scandal.

And now?! Having him in this movie that’s not really family friendly has you questioning your decisions. 

Should you cancel this? Tell them to find another actress? Your manager told you to be the most far away from him. Did he agree to this?!!! Oh this mother-

“Ms. Y/N, it’s time to start recording.” 

“Oh yeah.. thank you.”

And it even seems funny to him too! “We need to break the ice between the both of you! What about we start with the spicy scenes?” He said.

‘Wi niid ti briek thi ice bitien thi ti if you’ kill yourself. 

It was CLEAR, you didn’t wanted to do this first, and mostly because it’s your first time acting together but not your first time being together at the same place. And that one time clearly didn’t go well. 

So…

Why the hell is my manager okay with this?!

You weren’t nervous because you clearly had a crush on him, oh nonono, you couldn’t let yourself to that risk, but it was because….

because…?

Doesn’t matters. You have to do this. It’s your job y/n, take a big breath and….

Oh shit, he doesn’t has a shirt on?!

You couldn’t believe this is really happening. 

This scene consists of both of you making out. This isn’t too hard right? It’s not the first time I do it. It’s okay, relax.

You placed your legs on each side of him, you had to straddle him.. ride him. shut the fuck up. Nothing wrong with it.

This part of the movie both of you were in the same bedroom. “Alone” Yeah… bullshit. There’s like 4 camaras around us.

“And… ACTION!” Fuck. The director exclaimed. Now all eyes were on both of you. You were tense. You slowly cupped his cheek with your hand and started kissing him, he followed your way. You’re doing good right? Yes! Maybe we could just finish it in one take and-

Shit.

“CUT! This looks like some elementary kids kissing for the first time, put some passion! more sexiness y’know, let it go” Yeah, yeah he’s right! It’s not like you’re on top of him IN UNDERWEAR, and he’s almost naked with just some briefs that are barely hanging on his waist! Let’s put some passion in it! 

“Okay… SCENE 13, TAKE TWO, ACTION!” You were about to cup his cheek again when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and started kissing you. You let him take control and play with your lips all like he wanted, you couldn’t move yourself, you were FREEZED. He slightly started moving you with his hands for you to straddle him, he left a small groan, hopefully it’s part of his act, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaving a small moan that sounded more like a sigh. Shit. This is not part of the act.

“CUT!” WHAT?! WHATS WRONG NOW?!

“Y/N, please relax a little, he looked like he’s making out with a mannequin. C’mon, let’s do it again. SCENE 13, TAKE THREE, AND ACTION!”

Okay… Relax. 

This time, you were the one who started kissing Chishiya roughly, he left a small whimper at that sudden action, but continued with it. Both of you were kissing eachother like beasts. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving up and down in top of him. This feels so good. You left a moan that was quickly shut down by his kisses. 

“AND…. CUT! That was amazing see! I knew both of you would be perfect for this role, it’s like you guys were made for it! I’m really hop-“

You stopped listening to the director, when you locked eyes with Chishiya. They were so beautiful. He’s really beautiful.

He breaks the eye contact when he looks down at both of you, he suddenly chuckled and that made you look.

Oh shit. You were so fucked.

He was hard and his briefs now had a dark stain of your juices, this is so embarrassing! You looked at him with red ears and pink cheeks mumbling a sorry..

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I mean, that stain it’s not only yours y’know?” He said getting your chin up with one of his hands while the other covers you up with the blanket from the bed.

Okay, that made you laugh and relax a little..

Both of you locked eyes again.

It feels so right to me. 

“If you’re getting yourself wet for me… I guess you’re all mine now.”

Oh you were so fucked.

And i’m so sorry if this is short her than the others 😭, rn there’s a lot going on and my schedule is really messy rn. I was literally writing this at the hospital and later at the gym LMFAOSOSO

#chishiya smut #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya angst #alice in boderland x reader #aib season 2 #alice in borderland #aib #kuina alice in borderland #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #aib arisu #arisu smut #requests open #request

[buckyalpine]

Baby Boy

18+ Minors dni

Mommy!kink bucky x reader 

Bucky discovering he has a mommy kink. Idk what this is. I have like 1000 wips, who the fuck asked for this. No one. See you in the next post if mommy kink isn’t your thing  Warnings: Smuuuttt, mommy kink, swearing Fluffff

Word count: 1.2k

-

“Awww you look so cute here!” You giggled, looking at a picture of two year old Bucky, with chubby red cheeks, his dark brown hair combed to the side. There were not a lot of pictures but the few that existed were adorable. You sat in his lap while he had his arms around you, cuddled to his chest. 

“You’re still adorable baby boy” You kissed his nose, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek as you continued to look through the album from when Bucky was little. 

Baby boy. 

Hm.

He felt his heart jump for a moment as soon as the words left your mouth. Bucky adjusted himself as you continued to flip through pictures unaware of your boyfriends shifting. 

“You’re so sweet, look at you” You cooed, looking at the picture and then back at him, carding your fingers through his hair. Bucky preened under your touch, nuzzling his face into your hand like a cat. Your soft voice stirred something in him, the way you looked at him, fuck he wanted to be your baby boy so badly- wait what. 

Bucky blinked, shaking his head in confusion, No. nonono. Bad Bucky. 

“Look at my baby” You smiled, looking at a picture of Bucky in his army uniform, clean shaven face, eyes bright, handsome as hell. You still didn’t believe he was a virgin there, how does one look like that and just not fuck all day long.

“My handsome baby boy” Dear God, you were going to kill him. You traced the picture, your own fantasies interrupted when you heard a quiet groan.

“You okay Buck?” Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. You cupped his face, while he nodded, biting his lip, not trusting himself to speak. You hummed, looking at the other pictures of Bucky in uniform, he’d been through so much and still remained an absolute teddy bear on the inside. 

“You’re so beautiful my baby, so proud of you” You pecked a sweet kiss to his lips, before looking at more pictures of your gorgeous solider boyfriend, while gently playing with his hair. 

Bloody hell. 

*****

Once Bucky pieced together what his body was screaming for, it just got more difficult to control. 

You soft touches. 

When you’d let him be little spoon.

When you’d cuddle him after a nightmare. 

Your sweet gentle voice. 

The way you’d always praise him about how proud of him you were, how much you adored him, how he was so perfect for you. 

He was going to combust on the spot at this rate. 

*****

Something was...off. 

It felt good, when the hell did it not feel good. But you could feel Bucky’s mind was elsewhere, his dazed expression, not meeting your eyes while you looked up at him, his cock hitting all the right spots, thrusting in you, but his mind was elsewhere. 

“Bucky?” 

He slowed, looking at you worried he’d done something wrong. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No baby, but what’s on your mind?” 

Bucky swallowed thickly, shaking his head, he’d bit his tongue multiple times already, just wanted to moan for you while you took care of him. Wanted to call out for you, he didn’t want to moan your name, he just wanted to call you mo- 

“Sweetheart you can tell me, its okay. Do you want to just cuddle instead?” You smiled softly at him, wiggling from under him so you could sit up, taking his hands in yours, your thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “What is it Bucky?” 

Bucky’s mind was racing, he couldn't tell you, but fuck he wanted to let go to you so badly. Maybe if he just...

“C-could you get on top?” He whispered, hoping it’d give him a bit of satisfaction without fully confessing what he needed. 

“Of course baby” You giggled, letting him lay down before straddling his cock. You teased the tip of his cock at your entrance, a needy whine slipping past his lips. 

Huh. 

That was new. 

You started moving up and down on his cock. your hands on his chest, moaning as you rocked your hips. As much as you loved him on top, there was something sexy about having him under you, letting you take more control.

“Does it feel good baby?” You moaned while looking at him with heavy eyes, parted lips, your breasts bouncing up and down, God you were gorgeous. 

Bucky pawed at your boobs. squeezing the soft flesh in his hands, oh for fucks sake this was so much worse. His hips started rocking from under you, he knew what he needed, blinking up at you with glassy eyes, his pretty little mo- no. 

You noted the way Bucky shifted under you, his cock harder than ever, your combined slick making an absolute mess all over him, dripping down his balls. You hadn’t seen him like this before, he was acting so...needy. 

Interesting.

“What is it my baby” You cooed while Bucky whined and whimpered under you, his cock throbbing when your thump brushed over his pouty bottom lip, tugging it down before slipping the digit in.

Bucky’s eyes widened before they rolled back, greedily sucking your thumb, while moaning, his tongue swirling around your thumb. 

“Tell me baby, do you feel good” You pulled your hand away, looking down at him, with so much love, your pussy clenching around him, your beautiful fucking face and soft skin, sweet voice, and perfect body was too much for him, holy shit. 

“Feels so good mommy” 

Bucky froze, expecting you to jump off his cock in disgust, only to end up moaning loudly when you rode him faster, your fingers grazing his scalp as you picked up your pace.

“Yeah sweet boy? Does mommy make you feel good?” You bit your lip, your stomach clenching over the way Bucky's lips parted, his chest rising and falling, you could feel every ridge of his cock stiffen, he wasn’t going to last long.  

“So good mommy, so so fucking good” Bucky’s legs squirmed under you, his hands fisting the sheets, scared he’d hurt you with how badly he just wanted to grab and hold you. 

“What is it baby, hm?” You took his hands in yours, kissing his palms, 

“W-want to touch you? C-can I mommy?” You nodded, placing his hands on your boobs, moaning as he grabbed them, his hands flying all over to touch you everywhere he could. He continued to squirm, his cock leaking at this point, the head swollen and sensitive “Wanna cum” Bucky whined, his lip reddened from biting and chewing down on it.

“Awww, baby boy, you want to cum?” You cooed, rolling your hips, faster, your own orgasm waiting to tear through you at any given moment.

“Feels so good, please mommy, please please” His begging sent you over the edge, cumming around his cock making him nearly sob, he was so sensitive, so full of cum and you were squeezing his cock, practically strangling it in your tight walls.

“Go a head Jamie, be a good boy, cum for mommy” 

“M-MOMMMY” He cried out, rocking his hips up, your walls milk every single drop of cum out of him. You gently climbed off him, kissing his face before grabbing a cloth to clean the both of you up, giggling when you came back to find him sound asleep, cuddling your pillow to his face.

God he was adorable. Your adorable baby boy.  

-

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @high-functioning-lokipath @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomann @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth   @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp

#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes mommy kink #bucky mommy kink #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #avengers smut #subby bucky #sub bucky #sub bucky barnes #subby bucky barnes #needy bucky

[kylelovskii]

the real question is Kyle more or less of a lil shit once he gets the girl? like you can't tell me that boy doesn't own a remote controlled vibe... -mk anon

this request is so old but IDC!!!!

and he does. 100%.

i wrote this half asleep so im sorry if it sucks and if there’s errors

“cmon, pretty thing. just once? i promise i won’t use it much, and if i do, i won’t turn it up so high.”

liar. fucking liar.

kyle had sweet talked you into putting a vibrator inside yourself, then going to a party with all of the guys. he promised he wouldn’t turn it on very much, he just wanted to test it out, and you believed him, which is why you let him. but you were so, so wrong.

—

there you stood, talking with wendy and bebe. everything was going perfect, and you really thought kyle had just forgotten about it, but then you felt the slightest sensation between your legs go to not so slight.

your hand flew to your mouth, which caused wendy to stop mid sentence and look at you. “hey, are you okay? you look like you’re about to be sick,” she asked. you nodded frantically. “yeah—yes! ah— i just— um..got a sharp..c—cramp in my stomach. i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you replied before rushing off, trying not to let whines and whimpers escape from your mouth.

you rounded a corner into a hallway where, thankfully, no one was. you sighed loudly, sinking down to the floor. “oh god, kyle— stop, stop, stop…”

“what’s that? stop what?” you heard a voice come from down the hall. you snapped your head into the direction of the noise.

there kyle stood, his hands into the pocke yes of his grey sweatpants and his glasses perched upon his nose. you looked him up and down, noticing how his white wife beater hugged his waist perfectly.

“you— you said you wouldn’t do it much. and that if you did— it wouldn’t be so high!” you said, not even bothering to stand up and go to him. instead, he came to you and knelt down, taking your chin in his hand. “oh, i guess i tricked you. poor girl.”

then he grabbed your hand and pulled you up. “why don’t we go back to the party, huh? i think our friends miss us. i don’t think it would be very polite to abandon everyone just so i could toy with you,” he said as he led you back to the group he was originally with. as you walked, the vibrations slowly came to a halt. when it stopped, you sighed in relief.

kyle held your hand as he spoke with cartman, the two of them bantering while kenny and stan just listened, laughing at the smart remarks that came out of one of the others mouth. you listened as well, letting out a giggle or two, but then kyle turned the toy to its highest setting.

your knees almost buckled underneath you, and you let out an audible gasp which turned into a whine. “oh, honey, what’s the matter?” kyle asked, rushing to your aid. you gave him a look, then lied and said, “my stomach hurts, kyle.”

everyone looked at the two of you confused, but then kyle excused the both of you so he could 'help you'.

he dragged you into a bathroom, locked the door, then picked you up and set you on the counter. he forced your legs open, then moved your panties to the side to look at your glittering cunt.

your skirt bunched up at your stomach as he kneeled between your legs. he didn’t do anything, he just looked up at you and dirty talked you.

“see? look at you. you’re such a good girl, but i bet you’d rather me do this in front of all our friends. especially cartman, huh? that right, doll?” you shook your head quickly, telling him no.

“awh, baby don’t deny it. you may be a good girl for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a little slut, right?” you shook your head again, whining and squirming, trying to close your legs. “no— nonono!”

“come on, take it for me. i know you can. be a good whore and take it. quit tryin' to close your legs,” kyle said, keeping your legs open with both his hands.

“please— i..oh god—” you groaned before your orgasm washed over you, your legs twitching and your hands flying to kyle’s hair.

as you came down from your high, you heard kyle speak, “wow that was quick. good job, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and get that thing outta you,” he told you, helping you off the counter, then sitting you down on the toilet seat and running the water in the sink.

#south park #x reader #south park x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park kenny #eric cartman #bully!kyle broflovski #smut #kyle broflovski x reader smut

[drpoisonoaky]

This is what I think it would happen if Katara and Azula were telling people they’re dating:

.

.

.

—————————[Aang]—————————

Aang:

Azula: I think we broke him.

Aang:

Azula: I mean I killed him once but two times seems excessive.

Katara: I don’t think he needs that reminder right-

Aang: MONKEY FEATHERS WHAT WHY WHY HER OMG KATARA WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU SHE KILLED ME YOU WERE THERE AND-

Azula: I think I’m going to make some tea while he’s letting it out.

Katara: Bring some cookies.

Azula: Sure.

————————— [Sokka] —————————

Sokka [stepping closer to azula’s face]: Mmm.

Azula: What?

Sokka: What are your intentions with my sister?

Katara: Sokka please.

Sokka: Shh, I’m not asking you.

Azula: Sure.

Azula: She helps me to be a better person every day. She taught me how to love and how to love right even though I fuck it up on a regular basis. I want to be with her for as long as she wants me there. She’s strong, smart, caring and beautiful among other things. I just love her.

Katara [on the verge of tears]: ‘Zula

Sokka [crying]: That was…

Azula: Or maybe I’m a psycho and I want to destroy your tribe from the inside pretending I’m in love with the chief’s daughter.

Sokka: And there she goes.

Katara: She’s working on it.

————————— [Suki] —————————

Suki: She put me in prison.

Katara: I know.

Suki: She made our life a living hell.

Katara: She has changed.

Suki: People don’t change.

Katara: She was a traumatized, unstable and unloved child at that time. Believed me she changed.

Azula: Auch.

Katara: Sorry sweetheart.

Suki: …well I guess it’s your call after all.

Katara: Thank you.

Suki: Just one little thing… [looks at Azula] before you put me in that prison did you try to flirt with me?

Azula:

Katara: Azula?

Azula:

Suki: OMG how did you get Katara like that was so bad you had 0 skills

Katara: AZULA

————————— [Ty lee] —————————

Ty lee: Wait wait wait

Azula: For what?

Ty lee: Nonono wait wait wait

Azula: Are you having a stroke?

Katara: Maybe she is homophobic.

Azula: She’s a kyoshi warrior.

Ty lee: No but wait wait wait.

Azula: Agni

Katara:

Ty lee: YOU LIKE GIRLS THAT WAS AN OPTION AND YOU NEVER SAID SOMETHING FUCKING BASTARD YOU KNOW THE MASSIVE CRUSH I HAD ON YOU GROWING UP I TH-[and she kept screaming for a while]

Azula: We make the soft ones yell at us it must be some kind of achievement.

Katara: My turn to make the tea.

————————— [Toph] —————————

Toph: Congrats.

Katara: And that’s it?

Toph: What do you want me to say?

Katara: We don’t usually get a positive reaction at first.

Toph: I’m better than most people but I must say it’s kinda weird that you’re fucking a purple platypus bear.

Katara: What the hell are you talki-

Azula: And that’s why she’s the only one of your friends I respect.

Katara: You’re both so freaking weird.

Toph: Don’t be ableist.

Katara: I AM NOT-

————————— [Zuko] —————————

Zuko: Katara I get why Azula is messing with me but you teaming up with her? c’mon

Katara: It is not a prank.

Azula: Why wouldn’t she team up with me? I make great plans, I conquered Ba Sing Se and I had made legendary pranks.

Zuko: Katara it’s not funny.

Katara: Zuko we’re not joking.

Azula: Do you remember the time I made you think you were a big turtle duck?

Zuko: Katara please.

Katara: Zuko.

Azula: Oh oh or that other time when I pretended I couldn’t see you so I made you think you were invisible and you went into the kitchen naked to steal sweets.

Katara: Wait he did that?

Azula: What can I say? I’m good at pranks, babe.

Zuko: STOP ALL OF THAT.

————————— [Mai] —————————

Mai: You told Zuko?

Azula: Yes.

Mai: And he thought you were joking?

Katara: Yup.

Mai: Ty lee?

Azula: Also yes.

Mai: So between them who is the one who keeps screaming? My bet is on Ty, but Zuko can really get that high pitch.

Katara: Zuko is still in denial and saying that it’s a prank.

Azula: And Ty lee is the one who keeps screaming how much I love woman and why nobody tell her sooner.

Mai: She was unbearable about her crush on you until she join the kyoshi warriors. Now I think she’s dating one of them but I guess she needs to let it out the repressed years somehow.

Azula: I don’t blame her I know i’m gorgeous.

Katara: And very humble.

Azula: You didn’t deny it.

Mai: If you keep flirting here I want to say that I have a new knife I want to test.

—————— [Zuko (Second try)] ——————

Zuko: ‘Zula drop it already. Someone was screaming for a while and my head hurts.

Azula: Zuzu I’m not fucking joking.

Zuko: Yes, you are.

Azula: And they said I’m the stubborn one.

Katara: You know what fuck it.

[Katara takes azula by the collar of her shirt and kisses her hard]

Katara: DO YOU BELIEVE US NOW?!

Zuko: I know Azula would go far for a prank but I didn’t think you would roll with it. Still, I don’t believe you.

Katara: For Agni’s sake.

Azula [looking at Katara]: so… what are your thoughts of public sex to prove a point?

Katara: Azula remind me why I love you cause I’m about to kill you and your brother.

#azula #katara #azutara #kazula #atla incorrect quotes #avatar the last airbender #avatar #aang #zuko #sokka #suki #incorrect quotes #mai #ty lee #past tyzula #i guess #atla #lgbtq #water tribe #fire siblings #fire nation #toph #toph beiphong

[arc-misadventures]

Fashion Advice

Coco: Hey, Weiss, I heard you're trying to seduce, Jaune with a pretty outfit. Well good news, I have the perfect outfit for you~!

Weiss: You do, Coco? Well, if it was anyone else. I wouldn't believe them, but since it's you... Okay, lets see what you've got.

Coco: Ta-da~! Say hello to sex on two legs~!

Weiss: ...?!

Weiss: Cosplay? You want me to cosplay as a magical girl to seduce, Jaune? You’re joking right?

Coco: Nonono. I don't want you to cosplay as a magical girl for, Jaune. I want you to dress as her for Jaune.

Weiss: Dress as her for, Jaune? So, what makes you think this would work?

Coco: Haa... You clearly don't know what it is that, Jaune likes in a woman.

Weiss: He likes me, what more is there to it?

Coco: For starters I know fir a fact, Jaune loves your legs.

Weiss: He does...?

Coco: He's finds those long succulent of your shape to be divine, he longs for the day he can trail kisses up along your legs right towards you sweet little spot~!

Weiss: He-he does...?!

Coco: And, this outfit would show off your legs to a T.

Weiss: I-It does do that...

Coco: Now, notice how it shows of how tight it is along her body. Now, just imagine, Jaune's hands gripping your waist as he holds you in a lovers embrace.

Weiss: A lovers embrace...

Coco: And, look how it shows of her belly button, it shows how tight that outfit is. Imagine how his hands would feel running across your skin; Allowing him to touch you all over, without actually touching you~!

Weiss: B-But, wouldn’t he…?

Coco: And, see how it perfectly encapsulates her chest; Now imagine those are your breasts, and how that piece of fabric is all that’s between you, and Jaune’s masculine hands from feeling up your bare breasts~?

Weiss: B-Bare breasts…?

Coco: So, do you think, Jaune won't like this?

Weiss: I-I don't know, you've been making comments on how I would like it. Are you sure, Jaune would like this.

Coco: Watch me~! Hey, Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah?

Coco: See this?

Jaune: Yeah?

Coco: Smash, or pass?

Jaune: Smash. Smash like an industrial jackhammer.

Coco: Nice~!

Jaune: Is that all? Nora pulled a, Nora, and I need to fix things.

Coco: That’s it. Thanks for for answering my question.

Jaune: No problem! Talk to you later, Coco.

Coco: See you later handsome~!

Coco: …

Coco: So… what do you think now?

Weiss: ...

Weiss: Do you think my hair is long enough to be put up like that?

Coco: I don't know, lets find out~!

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #weiss schnee #coco adel #jaune x weiss #weiss x jaune #rwby whiteknight

[rel124c41]

SCHISM. jade leech

You could not grab a full-bodied mushroom, that had already lived a life outdoors, and stick it into a terrarium. "I know the pieces fit because I watch them tumble down" - TOOL, Track 5 on Lateralus

tags: established relationship, relationship issues, soul bond, ghost camera, angst w a happy? ending, character study, parental crewel, mental breakdown(s), crowley finds a way to send the prefect home, grimms fairytales, tattoos

word count: 16,920

“No! NoNONO! Wait, Jade! Cut it out Jade! Jade!” 

The words you let out are overflowing with terror. Fear makes itself familiar and known in your vocal cords.

Out of you comes one last fruitless, ignored shriek of his name before you cry like a child on a rollercoaster. With you in his arms, Jade falls back first off the cliffside.

Catlike, you cling onto your boyfriend. Pointed nails dig deeply into his neck, causing little injuries and indents. The fall is short and, before you know it, you are both underwater, weightless.

It is freezing and awful and warm and great all at the same time. You want to resurface immediately. Which you do, kicking yourself out of the constricting arms around your waist. Lake water ripples and billows. Once you surface, you expect to hear that mocking laughter. Rivulets of water cascade down your neck and face as you bring two soaking wet hands up to your temple to wipe away water – rather fruitless. But you clear the skin over your eyes and open them, searching for what you thought you would find in sound.

“My clothes are drenched, Jade,” you whine, knowing he can hear you no matter if he is underwater. 

The lake remains a calm surface, no body popping up. Kicking your legs and waiting, you glance up at the cliffside Jade had thrown both of you off of. Sun burns the palm you face up to its golden rays, protecting your eyes. There is, sitting all pretty. The mushroom you had been going to collect lies unplucked. Next to it, your pair of sunglasses that had fallen off your nose when you were lifted as easily as a mischievous cat.

Though, you are not the mischievous one in this. That description belongs to another: the one sly predator swimming underwater and avoiding surfacing for mischievous reasons most likely. Who were kidding, you think watching still waters, definitely for those types of reasons.

And you only get one warning – a hand pinched on your nose and a hand cupping your mouth – before you are dragged right back underwater. 

You thrash wildly. A lean body folds and tilts itself over you. You punch at where you think his shoulder or rib-cage is. He spins you once then twice underwater, disorienting you. You clutch at his shirt and pull. He kicks at your right leg and bends your body as if it is a bow. Wrestling against one another, your objective to resurface and his objective to dance clash until finally Jade pulls you up for air.

This time mocking laughter accompanies the cool sting of air. “Ugh, you jerk! You absolute – ugh!! My clothes!” Your punching fist is caught. Jade twists it and wraps it around his neck in an amorous hold like you two were going to start tango-ing. He laughs, subdued chortling at your furious expression. 

“Fufufu, you should’ve seen your face.”

“This is Floyd level behavior! I cannot believe you!”

“Come now, (Name). You were just complaining about the heat.”

You gasp, offended. “The heat?! You did this because –”

“Because I wanted to assist my love however I could? Yes, of course. I do need to take care of you after all.”

“Oh, you ass,” you growl and dig your nails in the back of his neck. 

Jade is unaffected by your humane strength. Instead, Jade smiles at your attempt to inflict any harm on him. His lips pull up and you are struck breathless by the visage of him. Sunlight falls on his glass-clear skin in an evangelical way. Teal hair is pressed down by water, slick with a rare shine. Even with black eyeliner smudged raccoon-esque, his eyes are piercing and vibrant. A lemon and an olive, rich like plucked from a painting. You punch his latissimus for being so effortlessly handsome at times.

With clipped and vexed words, you say, “I’m cool now. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His white smile is aggravatingly handsome too. “Don’t I get a reward for my consideration,” Jade asks, not missing a beat, simply floating with you in his arms.

“Take me back to the shore?”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay, here’s your reward,” you say, pecking him on the lips. “Now then.” Your gaze sharpens. “Shore. Now.”

When you two finally reach the lake’s sandy border, you start to wring out your button-up. You will not walk around in wet clothes. The dripping fabric of your tank top suctions itself to your skin in an unrelenting, octopus-like grip. You glare when Jade openly stares. Half-lidded eyes trace up and down the curvatures of you. Taking the shoulder ends of your button-up, you whip the material down hard once then twice then thrice, watching as water droplets splash your boyfriend.

Take that, you think triumphantly as you remove another article of clothing.

Jade gets back at you by taking his own wet button-up and wringing it out over your head rather than over the dirt like you had done. Dropping the shoe you were shaking water out of, you attack him and his self-satisfied, coy smirk. 

It takes about five minutes of horseplaying until you two get back on task. 

You sit on shore, squeezing water out of socks and mourning when Jade was more cowardly about touching. All two sets of teeth yet no bite. Endearing courting methods involved gifts, and even then, he was earnestly timid about it. Hand like a shield on his heart all the time as if to translate, be gentle with me. 

Rolling a still damp sock back on your foot, you think that message was truly worth ignoring. Jade Leech and gentle were antonymous. 

Still, there was a certain charm about his slyness. The fake humanitarianism he wore in his finely pressed uniform and neat bow was attractive. The glowing, angular silhouette of those sharp, up-turned eyes could still make you swoon. Something about him being out of reach was magnetizing. 

But … you watch as Jade walks up to you, your mushroom and sunglasses in his hand, there is something equally magnetizing in unlocking this part of him. 

And you have to admit the dip into the lake did wonders dropping down your temperature. Now you were not losing by such a large margin in the battle against heat stroke. 

You let him have this win. And you let him come to you. Accepting your sunglasses, you lay them to perch on the crown of your head. Before he offers a hand out to you, Jade carefully places your mushroom in the bucket you two have been wandering around with. He drapes his wet button-up over the button, electing to stay in his own tank top.

“Not going to dry out your socks?”

“No, I happen to enjoy the feeling of walking around in wet socks. Reminds me of home”

“You’re incorrigible.”

A smile splits across Jade’s face at your harsh words. Stalactites and stalagmites of razor enamel shine in his mouth, menacingly. And yet he offers out a hand to you, nails trimmed down to the plate, safe and warm even if it is calloused a bit.

Your eyes trail over him. Past shoes and compression tights and white cargo shorts. Gliding over the palm of his pallid hand and over the black eel skeleton made of tattoo ink which wraps itself from elbow to shoulder. Up to his collarbone, to his face, and to his eyes. 

A fond thought arrives in the mailbox of your mind. It is a letter perfumed in heart, base, and top notes of aquatic and woody scents. The smell of stepping on the beach and breathing it all in so deeply that your ribs ache. As the letter’s wax seal melts off, you read and transcribe the letter into the passionate smile on your lips and the way you trust yourself with holding Jade’s hand. The letter reads: I think I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

That was only yesterday.

That was only yesterday. Now, that mental letter means nothing to you. 

How quickly our opinions can change, you reflect, standing in Crowley’s office with a pearl of torment clutched in the bowels of a stomach ready to puke. 

When you were summoned to Dire Crowley’s office, you were vexed more than anxious. In your head bounced around the theories on what under-the-table job the Headmaster was kindly electing for you to take care of. Another thirty plus stack of papers he did not want to write his signature on or another school activity that you would be generously put in charge of. You weighed the options of work as Grim (perched on your shoulder) weighed the options of what you would ask for as a reward.

“Tuna croquettes, Henchman, imagine the taste of those! When Crowley gives us our job, ask for those! Ask for tuna –”

“What even is a croquette? When did you learn a French word?” You can already guess the answer to the second question: if it involves food, not even a language barrier can stop Grim from learning about it.

“They’re these breaded balls of tuna that are deep-fried.” You stick your tongue out in disgust. “They look delicious. You can dip them in honey or put them on crackers. Oh, Henchman, you have to ask for them. And we should pick up more honey for home.”

“I’ll remember to pick up honey. I can’t promise any tuna coqu –”

“Croquettes.”

“Croquettes. You know, you need to stop watching food blogs or going on websites like Food & Wine. I found my phone opened up to twelves tabs of just food blog recipes last week.”

“I’m not the one browsing them. Jade is.”

“Well, I’m cutting both you and Jade off. You’re grounded from looking at food blogs together. I can only handle so many different ways to organize a bento box before I go crazy.”

“Henchman,” Grim whines, nuzzling his fur against your cheek. “But they all look so yummy.”

“Grounded,” you had declared just before pushing open the door to Dire Crowley’s office, knowing he was already expecting you. How you wish you could re-spark that easy conversation between you and Grim. How you yearn to have the foresight to ignore his summoning.Now, you stand in front of Crowley, frozen. 

“He-Henchman,” Grim whines, trying to get you to speak or at the very least blink.

Blind-sighted is the only accurate description for you. Your eyes sit in your skull like wispy white spider eggs, paralyzed. If breathing were not a necessity, you would dare not even breathe. Vision blurring, you focus on the thin lips of Crowley underneath his raven masquerade mask, replaying all he had said. Salted water twitches on your bottom eyelashes. 

After seven volatile overblots, the too close for comfort spell of comatose casted over the entire world, and two years of rapidly draining hope, you had a way to go home through the assistance of the Dark Mirror and Dire Crowley.

You think you really are going to puke.

The only thing that halts your throat from cleaning itself of previous dishes is the bite of Grim’s fangs on your cheek. Like four tiny needles, his fangs sink in with a vengeance. You startle back with a yelp, stepping back, fruitlessly because your attacker is still laying on your shoulder. “Grim, ouch!” Blood holds itself unsteady in the puncture mark before one droplet slides down your cheek. You bat him off your shoulder. “That hurt.”

Grim lands gracefully in the space between you and the Headmaster. He turns around on two legs, neck craning to look up at you. His eyes are wishing wells of cerulean blue. You know what that sorrowful color means without his frowning eyebrows telling you his thoughts indirectly. “You’re not planning on going are you, (Name)?”

You are not a fantastic multitasker but you might just find yourself puking and crying. The wobble in his voice as if his emotions were an earthquake. How were you to explain what it was to yearn for family when Grim’s only family was … his only family was you. 

“Gr-Gri,” your bottom lip trembles. 

You find yourself unable to do anything but react to physical pain. Speaking meant acknowledging it. Ignoring Grim’s question, you look up at Crowley, past his lips to those glowing eyes. “Headmaster, I –” Your words pitifully stop there. No section of your mind can construct a sentence and you cannot even say Grim’s name fully.

You look at him with child-like vulnerability. Vulnerability seen in the eyes of kindergartens who are squeamish that the world has become big — the world offering more than just their four walled home — and thus look up at their teachers for guidance. Nervous without their parents around. Sevens, you are only nineteen. 

You cannot lie; I want to see them again.

Perhaps the desperation in your eyes is prominent because Dire Crowley quickly amends, “Now, this is not without some wiggle-room. I am not an unreasonable person! According to the Magic Mirror, you have exactly a month before the carriage arrives. Plenty of time! 

“Now, I have done my part in delivering the news,” Crowley says jovially. Jovially as if he has not turned your entire world on its head. 

“Wai –” 

You stutter. A hand is already pressed firmly on the small of your back. Your body shudders with a riptide of thoughts. Thinking about the conditions of how you will get home, thinking about asking for an extension, thinking about how unfair it all is. After Tsunotaro’s overblot, you managed to accept your place in Twisted Wonderland and one raindrop day causes all that to shift into a storm.

All the conditions of Crowley’s instruction fight in your head. Five talons on your back fight to move your catatonic body. You feel as elastic as rubber and as stone as granite. Somewhere far away, you think you hear Grim hiss. What are you going to tell Jade? And with that horrible thought, you allow yourself to be pushed out of the office.

You think you feel Grim crawl back up to your shoulder but you feel as if some supernatural force has kicked you into the back of the line, kicked you out of your mind. 

“Now (Name), please remember the Dark Mirror says this event only lasts for four hours. Think of it like a solar eclipse; it is a change of elements allowing this method to work. The carriage will ride past the –'' The rest of Crowley’s words waterfall out his mouth like white static. There is a strange ringing in your ears. You think you might pass out.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you wag your tongue, speaking words you will not remember tomorrow. 

Crowley says something more but it is a breeze, wordless and untranslatable, before closing his door. You stare at the gradient of wood. There is an urge to knock on it again, worrying your memory is wrong and now is the first time you were called into Crowley’s office. But you know … how you know what reality this is. It feels like you left parts of your brain lobotomized and body amputated, lying beyond that gradient wood; missing parts of yourself.

You rub your cheek, a little blood gathering on your knuckle. Grim’s bite, you remember, bleeding as if you had dug into a pimple. “Huh? I.” Without fully gathering all the parts of yourself back up, you walk off after a breath of hesitation.

Grim hops off your shoulder as you two glide away. The physical burden of this situation is already a heavy weight on your shoulder, you do not need him adding to it. Observing that, Grim stays quiet on his two legs, keeping stride.

He feels his skin bubbling with questions. Your eyes are full of water refusing to fall. Will you two be returning to class or Ramshackle? You were called into Crowley’s office in the middle of Magic Analysis class. Would you really still have the fortitude to write up answers? 

Your mind was swimming with something much more tantalizing than the differences of divination magic in users like the Fates to users like Jafar. 

Grim watches you stop in the corridor. About two hallways away from Magic Analysis class. You stare ahead, blank and dollike; then, as if a horrid thought has passed into your mind, you move as fast as a scorpion. 

For the briefest moment, horror is in your eyes. A tight, clenching hand flies up to your face, slapping itself over your mouth as if you are going to vomit or scream. You squeeze your eyes tightly together, doubling over at the hip. Nails dig (four on the left and one thumb on the right side) into your cheek, forceful enough to leave marks. 

The pain is grounding. 

Hyperventilating for no more than ten seconds, you suddenly straighten up, taking a deep breath. You put the thought away like a child pushing their shoes into a cubby. When you look down at Grim, your eyes are dry as his big blue eyes implore you to speak. Your body shakes slightly like you have goosebumps running up and down your skin.

“Henchman?”

“Tuna croquettes. What would you say if I made some tonight,” you give Grim an unsteady smile but your voice is magically even. “You’ll have to pull your weight and help me. It’s been a while since we cooked together, right?”

Heartslabyul is the first to know. Thus is the natural law of order. 

There is probably an unconventional rule written down: lies can only be told on a Tuesday if the liar has prematurely prepared mealworms for the hedgehogs during noon … or … something eccentrically long like that. A rule only plausible for Heartslabyul standards. But you predicted, walking into Magic Analysis class yesterday, that Ace and Deuce were going to find out the truth first. Even if you were not prepared to tell them it.

The reveal was a far leap from graceful. Unplanned, your woes spilled out of Grim’s mouth, something about you not being there for finals. Sudden cobblestone hits your back. Wincing at the bite of the school wall, you wilt at the rapid fire of Ace and Deuce, not even getting space to speak, Ace starting:

“You only get a month! How long have you known!”

“Grim just told us you aren’t going to be here for finals, and he well – he!”

“He’s gotta be joking, right?”

“After Draconia’s overblot, I thought it was impossible to –”

“Prefect, I can not go through that again. I know I joke about sleeping forever. But those are jokes!”

“Ace! … But really how did Crowley and the Dark Mirror figure it out?”

“They haven’t contacted Briar Valley have they? Not even Crowley can be that suicidal.”

“I mean, I can totally understand if you want to go; we all have families but –”

“But you don’t want to go right, Prefect?”

“Ace, don’t just ask them that!”

“Oh shut it! Why shouldn’t I ask, you coward? No one else is gonna but us!”

“Wait, does anyone else know, (Name), besides Grim.”

“So no one else knows.” You nod. “Wait, when will you tell Jade?”

Never, a part of you thinks. Wanting to save yourself from the hurt, you judge wrongly that you can continue through this month without having to face Jade and tell him. You just want to avoid the pain. Cobblestone-made bruises hum on your shoulders, deep in reminder. 

You did not even get to break the news in Ramshackle, away from prying eyes. When you finally got a word in edgewise, you were still pressed against the outdoor wall of Night Raven College. The walking crowd was gratefully small … yet you stayed anxious over the idea anyone else would find out. The college was a hunting ground for weakness and each dorm was not above spreading a rumor. 

Your anger at Grim for revealing your predicament lasts only ten minutes. What good was fruitless anger when these might be your last days in Twisted Wonderland? 

Eventually, the group of five in Heartslabyul come to know. If Ace and Deuce knew something, the information eventually falls like dominoes to Cater, Trey, and Riddle. 

Even with two of the three away on their internship, the information was passed over. Your favorite cake appears glittering with magic residue on the porch of Ramshackle with a letter signed by Trey that leaves you shaking. Quotes on eternalism – specifically time’s finiteness – from books and poetry start to bloom on Cater’s Magicam stories, not enough to change his feed but enough to stir up suspicion, and you feel that pit in your stomach deepen.

Other than the five in Heartslabyul, you keep the predicament from everyone else. Tears welling up in Kalim’s eyes; disbelief writing itself on Ruggie’s face; the volume of Sebek’s concern mounting in your ears. You do not want to deal with any of it.

Jade … you do not want to even think of how that will blow over. Would you get tears? Most likely not. Would you be shouted at? No, you have not heard Jade really shout. Would his expression reveal his inner turmoil and disbelief? No, he is a master at schooling his expressions. So predictable yet not, you mourn, walking down the hallways to your next class.

When we are at the height of our most paranoid, we think that every conversation that we cannot hear is about us. 

You reflect upon this philosophy as you walk. Whenever glancing or idle eyes fall upon you, you get this stabbing pain running itself through your spinal cord. Your heart spikes when you see Riddle interact with Silver in class, jumping to the obvious: they are talking about me. Lips move yet sounds are unheard; in response, your heart drums a solo of fortissimo fear.

About three-fourth through the day, you leave Grim who has been gluing himself to your side with Deuce. Citing that you are feeling unwell and need to go to the nurse. No one argues with your firm insistence that you do not need a guide. 

Your feet carrying you to the Mostro Lounge is simply muscle memory. If you want to calm down, you go to Jade. Knowing his schedule too is all ingrained in you. 

The host sits you in a booth pressed snuggly against the aquarium’s glass. Upon your request, he neglects to give you a menu or coaster. This one time you will not be dining. You know it will vex Azul, taking up space where a paying customer could be, but you will make him forgive you. 

Underneath electric, pulsing blue lights, you sit like an egg in an incubator. Facing the stretching walls of a sixteen foot tall aquarium. Shielded and blanketed by cerulean and black shadows. Entirely still. 

What are you going to do? More people will come to know – people you care for and would not like to be torn from. And they will try to gauge or guide your decision, perhaps do both at once. You abhor that idea. All you really want right now is someone to be your rock to latch to when there is a riptide around you, someone who will be calm in the stare of a calamity. 

Questioning, your eyes trace the motions of a codfish. It is odd for one of them to be swimming off from the school. He swims on the very belly of the conjoined body the school has made, pressing the limits of harmony. 

The yellow-olive codfish starts to break the formation completely. Curious thing. You wonder if it has a disease. Determined, the codfish swims to the bottom of the aquarium, tail dilating back and forth as it heads down. But if a fish has an illness, usually they float? Ah, you are no marine biologist so you can never tell. 

Then, you finally spot what it wants. A mollusk resting against a rock formation, just shy of a fake shipwreck punched full of holes. The codfish descends down to it. Cold fingers go up to your lips, concealing a smile, effortlessly. Adopting his mannerisms, you think with a laugh. Ah … you really have been spending far too much time with Jade to the point where you mimic him.

You anticipate it this time. Sediment explodes in a puffing cloud. The codfish retreats almost comically. And, slowly like savoring his success, the moray eel slinks his head back through the cavern of the starboard, mollusk caught in his mouth. 

“Chamomile tea. It is known to soothe even the most anxious of souls.” 

To be honest, you would have expected that voice to be much closer. His chin hovering over your shoulder and teeth too close to your ear is typical. Turning to drink in the sight of him still in his waiter attire, you concede that you will have to get closer to him later.

You glance down at the ceramic, steam still rising from its watery mouth. “And you just happened to have it on hand?” It looks to be the perfect temperature too. The stream is not excessive or lacking. 

“On hand, why of course. I anticipated you coming here today.”

You raise a brow.

“It actually belongs to Table 5.”

Smiling, you pick up the teacup. Warm ceramic nuzzles into your palms and you take a generous sip. Near you like a guiding presence, Jade watches with one hand over his heart and the other holding the tray behind his back. “Well, I say my soul is subsequently soothed now. Thank you.”

He bows, bent at the hip, like a chivalrous knight. “Now,” he says as he tucks the tray under his arm, pulling out his notepad, “I sure hope the scenery alone hasn’t brought you to us today. Would you like to order now or later?”

“Aw, why do I get on the clock Jade and not boyfriend Jade.”

“Because I am paid by the customer.”

“But aren’t I just priceless?”

“The special of the day is also priceless. Monkfish. Though I’m assuming lobster rolls sound more appetizing to you than monkfish piccata.”

You hear your stomach growl at the notion. You gasp when Jade’s pen starts to move across the paper. Leaning off the booth, you push at the side of his stomach, glaring playfully. “Hey, no writing! I’m here to freeload; don’t ruin that for me.”

Chuckling, Jade starts to lean down to you, teeth all on his display. He looks ready to bite at your lips, all mischievous and elevated that you will definitely bite back. Staring each other down, you startle suddenly at Jade’s next move. Quite quickly, Jade shoots back up, wincing with his gloved knuckle pressed under his nose. 

“Jade?” You blink up at him as he furiously rubs the bridge of his nose. “Do you need a tissue?” 

“No, I'm fine, my love.” He gives one last rub to his nose. “Felt a sneeze coming on.” 

Looking at him unconvinced, you hum when Jade pushes your teacup of chamomile closer to you. Then, he grabs your right hand sweetly, squeezing it. Your eyes meet again. Sevens, you could fall into those eyes as easily as a suicidal man falls into a noose. 

“Why don’t you drink some more and I’ll be back shortly with food for us?”

“Us? Aren’t you on the clock?”

“You’re stressed,” he states like he is noting that you are wearing a certain article of clothes. As if it is obvious. His thumb runs itself up and down the ladder of your tense knuckles. “It’s a little evident, dear.”

Panic writes itself on your face. “Is it really?”

“Hm, now it is.” Referring to the way your eyebrows clench and your voice whispers in fearful tones. A manipulative, proud smile crawls onto his face. “But I know your soul after all, so it is evident to me.”

Jade lets your hand go, making sure you rest it on the teacup. Urging you one last time to drink, he stalks off to get you both some food for an impromptu lunch together. You watch his back as he disappears into the kitchen, blue light raining down on him.

Sweet and mild dyed water runs down your throat, on a mission to relieve you of stress. When you have about half a cup left, you set it down, contemplating.

You were so grateful for Jade. If you were only friends with him, you would have told him about this first. Advice from a Leech with benevolent intentions is often the best advice. Even Floyd, who is very go with the flow, is so emotionally intelligent. And Jade … Jade would not pressure you to give his details about your misfortune but he would also not allow misfortune to ruin you. Refusing to intervene too early or too late. He is like that sacred rock in the riptide. 

However, you and him are dating. That makes certain topics difficult to breach. 

Chamomile tea still the ideal temperature, you stare back at your reflection in the liquid. They pull down their lips. Worry has gathered fast and voluminous in their eyes like ants crawling all across a dead mouse on the ground, coating the brown fur to a patchy, thick black. Sizing up a reflection, you reflect on previous conversation.

Chamomile tea. It is known to soothe even the most anxious of souls. 

But I know your soul after all.

Souls. Soul. 

Perhaps you can tell Jade what is going on, just without directly telling him.

The Ghost Camera is a bulky thing. All heavy brass, that precious metal silver, and nickel. It almost tumbled out of your hands and into water during Camp Vargas; you could only imagine the speed it would have sunk at if Floyd had shorter arms. Eventually, you stop carrying it daily after your first year. Yet, you refuse to part from it entirely, still taking photos when you have it on you.

Perhaps it is an effect of being born in the very early 2000s but you adore having photo albums. Your parents had ten of you alone, separate from your siblings, and half of your childhood on camcorder films. It is in your DNA to keep memories. 

Or Memories as the fragments are called.

Though, you sympathize with Grim that a whole room of photo albums might be extensive. But you have a whole house to yourself! And Sam sold you photo album books at a very cheap price because no one at a college wants to have physical reminders of being at college. 

And how they could become physical reminders.

There is no system for the room crammed with albums. You do not have not enough time to delegate a day to organize each album by person, dorm, or month. So, letting fate guide you, you pick up three books, cradle them in your arms, and announce to an unimpressed cover, “Okay, let’s do this.”

The Ghost Camera is unique. Takes ordinary, unsuspecting photos then does a full 180 by being enchanted with magic. 

When the user photographs a subject, it photographs a part of their soul along with the physical form. Memories are those soul fragments. If a soulbond between user and subject comes to be, it allows Memories to move across the surface like twenty second animated clips. If a soulbond between user and subject deepens, Memories can slip out of the photograph and take on corporal forms. 

One night you dreamt of chasing a rabbit and woke to Ace, who had slipped out of the photo, standing over your bed. How you screamed. Until he floated silently back into the photo you had on your nightstand.

Once, a fake Floyd had tried to juggle three glasses of spice in your kitchen before one had fallen through his flickering, tangible then not-tangible hand. Then, the Memory had the nerve to melt away, leaving you with three broken spice jars. 

Malleus had once strolled down the hallways of Ramshackle, mumbling over the decorations you hang onto walls of a once abandoned building, before sliding down a hallway, never to be seen from again that day. 

The only way you can feel a Memory from the real person is the lack of warmth. It is like stepping out of a toasty car at the peak of winter. Memories carry along with them an icy breeze, unable to be fully human. 

Grim is in bed asleep, warm, and you really only have time to do this now. Walking down to the lobby, you slide your hand over the spine of the albums. If you can ask whoever is in here for their advice, you never have to reveal the situation until you are at the ready. 

A dodge on your part but who readily jumps into despair? 

You collapse on the couch. With the weight of the albums in hand, a horrid thought passes in your mind. Cinderella’s stepsisters and the glass slippers.

Cinderella’s stepsisters, you will always be like them. You will have to slice off your heel and toes — as if you are carving into an apple or slicing down into a row of carrots — to fit into the glass slipper of Twisted Wonderland. Of Sage’s Island. Of the Coral Sea and Queendom of Roses, if you ever visit. You walk magicless in a world of magic, limping while blood soaks the inside of your crystal heels.

The thing about mushrooms is that you cannot just plant one into a terrarium. 

Originally, you were under the assumption that it was like moving flowers from bed to bed. Jade cleared up the misinformation for you. You could not grab a full-bodied mushroom, that had already lived a life outdoors, and stick it into a terrarium. Full-bodied mushrooms would come to reject the ecosystem. The key to get them to stay? The key was to get the mycelium into the ecosystem; without the support system underneath the soil, the mushroom would wither and leave in a few days.

As you rummage around in the bucket from your recent Sunday date with Jade, you know there is little you can do. Some would take and others would not. Shifting, latex-covered fingers stir through the rather common mushrooms, passing over maybe only two or three rare ones.

Apparently, the one you tried to pluck off the cliffside six days ago was poisonous to the touch. Not enough to be fatal but you would have gotten a nasty itch coating itself over your hand. Even with the latex on, you avoid touching it. Jade’s hand is still a pinkish-red after all.

Stupid Jade, you think fondly on the protective eel and take a mushroom out of the bucket. 

Terrariums are beautiful but mushrooms are rather fleeting. As you start to crumple up the gold-hued chanterelle mushroom in hand, you reflect upon the matter. Take for example the terrarium tank you are working on currently in Jade’s dorm. He has three on his bed-side shelf: one cylinder, one spherical, and one square. The one you laid on his desk is the spherical one. 

This one terrarium has housed pholiota adiposa, then albino pleurotus ostreatus, and now gomphus clavatus mushrooms (known as pig ears), and has probably housed more before you even knew Jade. 

Mushrooms are decaying plants. It is nearly impossible to curate an enclosure that can house a certain fungi all year round. After a while, Jade simply scraped all that death up in his hand, threw it into the compost bin of the botanical gardens, and departed from it.

A part of you would never understand how Jade could deal with it. All that hard work only for it to naturally wither and go. You suppose he dealt with it because he adored change. Who would have thought? The always-in-control Jade Leech actually enjoys seeing things shift and change. You understood his love of a challenge though. His unfinished magnum opus was a terrarium breaking the laws of nature, trying to get nine species of mushrooms that mimicked a coral reef in one single environment. 

“Each species of fungi have different growing conditions that they favor, so it is impossible for me to recreate all of these in the same ecosystem,” he once said.

“So why even try?”

“I think it is most enjoyable and eye-opening to covet after the impossible.”

He then looked at you like you were a meal, speaking double meanings with a honeyed tongue. Scandalous yet not, so you could never accuse him of being scandalous at any moment. Ah … even the memories of Jade could make your face feel warm. 

Distracting yourself, you start to add little bites of the gold-hued fungi in hand, tucking them under the moss and placing them on the tree bark. 

Jade’s unfinished magnum opus involved this glasshouse– the pig ears, gomphus mushrooms. Gomphus mushrooms could not be successfully cultivated as they are mycorrhizal, meaning they form a special relationship with their host plant. Two of the nine species he was working with for his coral reef terrarium were mycorrhizal, pig ears and indigo milky. And Jade finally got a mycorrhizal species of mushroom to sustain itself in an ecosystem made of glass. Proving the impossible was possible. A smile reaches your features, feeding more of the common mushroom in the terrarium so the pig ears could feast. 

Though that one project was going to have a long way to go, you had faith Jade would be able to complete it, despite the ecosystem and biology of fungi fighting against him. Would you be there to share in that victory? You dip your hand back into the bucket, ignoring the squirming of your stomach. 

The door clicks open. 

You look up to be greeted with the sight of teal hair and spindly limbs reaching up to six feet and one inch. Tongue already forming around the ‘J’, you stop suddenly. One then two Dunhill shoes – costing more than you will ever keep in a month’s pay – are kicked across the pale lilac floor. You watch cap-toe shoes sumersault and tumble. 

As he falls into bed with a groan, you greet, “Hi Floyd.”

“Shrimpy!” You blink in surprise as the exhaustion seemingly disappears out of Floyd. He props himself on his elbow, legs shuffling a bit further up the bed, and a predator’s smile pulls on his lips. Energetic at the sight of his twin’s significant other.

“Was wonderin’ why my bed was so neat,'' Floyd hums … and oh, he must still be exhausted, you observe. Lying back down in the bed you cleared of candy wrappers and sheets you straightened, Floyd slightly props his head up with his crossed elbows and a pillow so he can keep talking to you. “What ya doin’ here?”

“Just helping Jade with his terrariums. I wanted to repay him for the chamomile tea.”

“Shrimpy’s so sappy.”

“Hey, I just adopted the Octavinelle values. Can’t be walking around with a debt. Got to keep us on an even playing field.”

“Mmm … which ones?”

“The pig ears. They’re so volatile. I’m worried if they’re going to stay or not.”

“Is that what has Shrimpy so stressed?”

“Hm? I wouldn’t say stressed. Just trying to figure out how I should handle them.” 

You pick another mushroom out of the bucket. Gomphus mushrooms were so sensitive. Cousin to chanterelles mushrooms, you could safely add the gold mushroom in – as you had just done. Looking down at the mushroom you now hold, you consider if it would be safe fertilizer for the pig ears. You do not want to jeopardize the delicate balance. 

Under Floyd’s watchful eyes, you put the mushroom you picked up back into the bucket. You start to rummage again before the eel’s words interrupt your work. “So what’s got ya so stressed?” 

Not catching his drift, you say, “Nothing? I’m not too stressed right now.” It is a true statement. Your body feels entirely at ease, just measuring how you can help here and there with the terrariums. You cap the glass enclosure with the glass cover. If Floyd wants to sleep, you should not impose. 

“Ya smell stressed.”

“You’re a real gentleman, you know that, Floyd?”

Ah, that old reliable nose of an eel. Hiding a playful smirk, you sing, “Well, I’ll get out your hair so my musk doesn’t ruin your sleep. I was just about done with everything anyways. I think Jade’s going to use the rest of the mushrooms from our hunt to cook something.”

“I’m serious. Ya stunk ever since Tuesday and ya stunk real bad on Friday,” Floyd says in a low tone, eyes glued to your back. “Kinda still smells now too. Not as bad but still.”

You are glad you get the terrarium down safely on Jade’s bed-side shelf because your hands shake at Floyd’s words. Ah, that vexingly reliable nose of an eel. Trust their olfactory system to even pick up the stench of tension like a dog picking up frequencies unheard. You sit back down on Jade’s bed, spine facing Floyd.

“Just school stuff. Crewel’s been on my ass about a test. I need to get mine and Grim’s shared grade back up in Animal Languages. Things like that.” 

You can lie successfully with your body, keeping it from tensing in betrayal. You can lie successfully with your vocal cords, keeping them even and precise. However, you found you can never lie eye-to-eye with Floyd. It did not matter whether the golden eye was on the left or right. Somehow that flaming, glittering sun burns you to the core and figures out the undeniable, obsidian truth.

Already, you are mapping the escape route. Just a quick spin off Jade’s bed, grab your phone from his desk, and exit out the door. Avoid his eyes at all cost as if is a predator, and that he is. Moving off the bed, you say, “Like I said, I’ll leave so my musk doesn’t –”

“(Name).”

Your eyes snap up; a gasp is pinched tight in your mouth. Floyd challenges you back with his luminesce eyes. Bristling a hissy cat, the back of your thighs hit Jade’s mattress and you whine, “I hate when you two do that!”

Floyd laughs. He laughs in his normal, nasally drawl instead of the deep, sinister tone that Jade has. As Floyd takes pleasure in your surprise at his perfect impersonation of his twin, you refuse to look at him. The gloating jerk. In a rush, you grab your phone just as Floyd starts to speak, “Ya always fall for it, Shrimpy. It’s cute.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Ya stressed around Jade?”

“No.”

“Really? Ya reek right now. All stressed out after hearin’ ‘Jade’ speak. Smells like wet dog and cigarette smoke.”

“I’m not stressed,” you argue, flipping on your phone to check the time. Above Jade’s head, white numbers stare back at you, 4:43, and you watch it change to the next minute with a scowl. The screen goes black; angelic numbers and the photo of Jade leaning over Ramshackle’s oven, cooking a meal for your one year anniversary, disappear. “Look, I’ll –”

The words die in your throat when you and Floyd lock eyes. He knows I’m scared but just not of what. You cannot blame Floyd with the way his mismatched eyes narrow, little squinting fireballs of suspicion. He is only looking after his twin. 

“I just need a little time before I can tell him, okay?”

“Kay, Shrimpy.”

Glance around the bedroom; check that you got everything in hand. You lock eyes with yourself, heart agonizing in your chest like a clawed talon has made it its footstool. Your happier, lighter face smiles back at your crinkled expression. Frozen in mirth. Stuck in a moment of easy breathing and thoughts. The photograph on the desk of you and Jade taken from the Ghost Camera. Only one of you looks at the lenses and the other stares down at the person pulling them into the surprise photo. 

Uneasy thoughts fill your head. This is the photograph Jade wakes up to every morning. He had even cut Azul and Floyd off the edges of the polaroid, chuckling evilly when Floyd gapped and Azul sneered, instead of just folding them off the edges. Always wanting to get a reaction. 

Would the facsimile of your soul one day be all that was left for Jade to keep? A photo that might fleetingly speak the words of your heart to him. You imagine it with a wince: Jade talking to a facsimile of you, empty of your warmth, but still there. Staying when you would not. 

I don’t want that for him. I don’t want that for me!

I want to see them again. 

Gomphus mushrooms. School assignments. The dinner you have to cook. Whatever lingers in your brain, you try to focus on it to distract yourself from the conflicting yearnings of your soul. Eventually, you will come to tell Jade. It might be procrastinated upon already, but better late than never. When you left the Leech twins shared bedroom, you did not realize how right you were. Eventually, you did come to tell Jade. You told him that very night, at 2:13 A.M., on the porch of Ramshackle.

You have not been sleeping well since Crowley broke the news to you. Everyone knows this. The concern is clearly written in Ace and Deuce’s faces when you two have classes and lunch together. Epel gives you the caffeine and Vitamin C eye-roller that he never used his first year. Sebek and Jack take to allowing their large hands to be the barrier between your cheek and a cold desk that might startle you awake. 

Crawling out of bed, swollen eyebags aching like a bruise, careful to let Grim sleep, this is normal now. 

Stumbling feet successfully walk themselves down spiraling stairs. One foot by one foot. Out of the corner of your lidded eyes, ghosts move like the undulating waves of a storm, pellucid bodies pulsing without a heartbeat. Sweat rolls down your neck, soaking into the nook of your collarbone. You miss the last step, bump hard into the wall, and that is all it takes. You start crying.

Uncertain of why you are down on the first floor instead of the second, you cry and cry, confused. When did you get out of bed? Your only answer is the raspy noise your mouth exhales. The loose t-shirt that is three sizes bigger than yourself is constricting and choking you. 

The waterfall on your face continues steady even when the warm breeze of spring-turning-summer fights against it. You would take in a deep breath of fresh air if each breath you did take did not feel like drowning. Engine lungs refuse to start smoothly, instead churning with gasps and coughs of water.

I want my Momma. I want my Jade. I want my Dad. 

Your butt falls heavy on the steps of Ramshackle, knowing there is no one coming for you. There will no longer be any hortative, glowing green fireflies coming to save you tonight. You sit there, presuming you will fall asleep from the exhaustion of weeping.

You feel like you are on a boat. A boat in the middle of a snow-globe. Turning and turning is fruitless because the sight is never changing eternalness: blue waves and a lighter blue sky. Color that cuts into sadness. Color that swallows. You can pirouette, jump, do handstands, but the sight remains. Blue on blue. On a boat that you do not even attempt to steer because there is no direction you want to go in.

Your mother once said she was so in love with your father that she knew he was the one because she would put him above her parents. Never getting enough of each other. Time spent with him was just better than time spent without. Better than being with her own parents.

That is love; when you find your person, you put them above everything else.

The iron gate to Ramshackle creaks. 

You would like to say you watch Jade Leech climb up the cobblestone path to Ramshackle, thinking about the definition of love, but you cannot see past your tears. All you see is an emulsified blur of black, teal, and dark green water. Furious hands whip at your face. Eyes red and face warm, you look up. He is still a haze of skin, hair, and clothes sliced into little horizontal lines of color.

“Ja-Jade?”

“Pardon me if it sounds odd … but I heard you crying in my dorm. Of course, you weren’t there. But it still made me anxious so I decided to check.”

You sniff, scrubbing your eyes harshly to clear them.

“And here, I do find you crying in the exact same volume and manner.”

“Sorry. I —”

“Nonsense. You need not apologize for your tender disposition.”

“Sorry,” you say again. You drop your head at Jade’s exaggerated look. The exaggerated look on his face is only a squinting of his eyes. However, you can decipher and tell the differences between the twenty eye-squints Jade Leech can make. 

You keep wiping away tears as Jade sits down by you on the porch. Vision clear, you smile at the rare sight of Jade in his pajamas. Oh, those are the fleece pants you bought him with a blue flannel pattern. A bit comforted by that, you lean into him as he rests an arm upon your shoulder. 

“If my own disposition is not seen as rude, what is troubling you? You are not known for being so out of sorts. Crying is one thing, crying outside Ramshackle at 2 o’clock  is another.”

“Do you think I smell?”

The smile grows a bit on your face as Jade quickly tries to submerge a laugh with his hand. 

“Sorry, that was ah, a bit unexpected.”

“Heh, I know.”

“But?”

“Floyd made a comment early. I smell like stress.”

“Well, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed too.”

“I think I could tell when you pull back from that kiss all the sudden. The sneeze excuse wasn’t very convincing.”

“Come now, I am an excellent actor.”

“Not around me.” You warm up when Jade trails his hand up and down your arm. Not around me. I can always read what is on your mind, Jade. 

“Ah and there goes my dreams of being the first eel-mer movie star. Why are you so cruel, my love? Crushing a poor eel’s dreams?”

“Ah, my apologies,” you say remorselessly. Playful, your hand falls into Jade’s hand. You take to drawing swirls and seashells into the rough, warm center of his palm. Above, a few droplets of water start to sprinkle out of the sky. A slight change in the weather as you start to draw more seriously.

“Thank you.” He plants a kiss on the crown of your head. It settles on you like a flower petal, soft. “Now, would you like to tell me what has made you so incredibly stressed? I can be very patient, forewarning.”

“When you graduate, where do you want to live, land or sea?” You watch three droplets hit Jade’s hand, feeling a few pepper themselves on your shoulders and back. You take one droplet and smooth it out into the image of a starfish. That is not what you wanted to come out of your mouth. However, the chronic worry you have had about graduation slides out of your mind easily. 

In the dust of rain, you listen to Jade’s answer. “If I were to choose … between land or sea … why that certain is a weighty question. And to think you have been all alone in your musing about it. How sobering, I cannot even imagine such a barnacle of a thought.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Hah, I can never keep things hidden from you, can I? Let me think.” He cannot draw up an arm to his chin but he definitely has that same contemplative look on his face. As rain kisses his crown, he slowly says, “Both land and sea come with advantages. Though I have only known land for three years, it has gifted me with wonderful consequences that I have never thought I of all merfolk would know.”

“I’m a consequence?”

“Quite. My favorite consequence,” Jade replies tenderly. “The sea can be seen as inhospitable to visitors. I happen to enjoy the cold and dark where others do not. I suppose I would have to measure the decision through memories. Am I fonder of the memories of my childhood or am I fonder of the memories of my education?

“I still have the chance to cultivate and reap the benefits of my education, unlike my childhood which is long gone. But, in the end, I would want both land and sea. And somehow, I would find a way to make that possible, no matter ecosystemic limits.” 

You wilt as the rain starts to grow more constant. A few twenty or so dots of water are not gathered on Jade’s palm. Taking the abundance of paint, you draw the face of an eel with the water. “But it would matter: the consequences and the people you could possibly leave behind.”

“Your worry is about whether I would stay with you or my family?” You cannot nod because that is selfish of you, pushing your dilemma onto your boyfriend. Jade can tell what exactly the root of your stress is even as you draw. Leaning to be heard better over the rain, he says, “I would never leave you, (Name).”

“Crowley found a way to send me home.”

Jade tenses up. You wilt when the canvas of his hand suddenly changes , hand gripping your hand in a tight, binding hold. 

“Pardon?”

“Crowley, he found a way to send me back to my home. I–” The clouds of your eyes grow heavy. “I don’t know what to do, Jade.” 

Holding hands, you look up, hoping the answer can be found on Jade’s face. He is the decision  maker in the relationship, picking the food you eat, offering advice on homework; Jade always has this way of knowing how to solve anything. His expression; you need to see so it can guide you. 

Oh.

Oh. That is not good.

Profile stone and staring off into the dark beyond Ramshackle, Jade is unreadable to you. You wilt a third time. 

“Cater’s been talking about getting Kalim to throw one huge going away party. I told him you would really enjoy it if the Pop Music Club played Supertramp’s Goodbye Stranger during it.”

That sentence gets you to stop cutting the strawberries. Jaw dropping, you turn towards Trey’s villainous smirk as he pretends to innocently pipe frosting on the second cake. Only his profile faces you, acting arrogant to your mortification. “You … absolutely did not.” The response you get is the crinkle of Trey’s cheek as he tries to push down his smile. 

You whack him, taking vindictive joy in the icing that runs down the side of the mousse cake, and shout, “You jerk!”

“Hey, I just think the Ramshackle Prefect should go out with something memorable.”

“Isn’t being magicless enough?”

Trey takes to fixing the frosting as he replies, “You know Cater won’t do something so big without permission. He might just livestream all of it.” He picks back up the icing bag to resume and cover up the slight imperfection. “Would a party really be so bad?”

“Goodbye parties defeat the whole purpose of the word party,” you grumble. One by one, you plant the scales of cut strawberries on top of the strawberry tart. They extend out in the space of a lotus. “I’d be covered in tears and snot by the end of it. Ugh.”

“Hm, I suppose I see what you mean.” 

Trey and Cater, after being alerted of the news with your permission, manage to return to Night Raven College from their internships for the weekend. The use of magic makes it easy for them to travel in quickly, popping by for an unbirthday party.

Currently, you and Trey prepare the strawberry tarts (as is customary for unbirthday parties) and a chocolate mousse cake (as is customary for you to enjoy). Riddle has meticulously plotted out each faucet of this unbirthday party. Nostalgically, he reminds you a lot like his old tryantical self, barking orders as his stress rockets, meticulous to give you the perfect unbirthday party. When asking where you were wanted, Trey happily scoops you up before anyone else can. 

Playing catchup, you and Trey talk about a wide variety: how his internship is going, new recipes or meals you two have been introduced to or learned, the shenanigans of Ace and Deuce that Trey missed, and how your shared friend Jade Leech is doing.

To be frank, you enjoy Trey’s company a lot. Despite being a graduate of NRC, he makes you feel the closest to home. Normalcy. He expels this aura of normalcy that is absent from the rest of the student body. Pearly white, non-serrated teeth smile at you. Regular brown eyes shimmer behind his glasses. Within his presence, it is easy to masquerade around with the facade that NRC is a quotidian college. Protected by the walls of the kitchen, you can forget about the flamingos being used as croquet mallets and the magic pens waving through the air.

You are kicked from this fantasy comfort when Trey asks you for a favor. As Grim happily slurps up the leftover frosting from the plastic bag, a question is posed. “Can you do me a favor and grab the chocolate sprinkles?”

“Ah, of course.” Back on the paper plate goes your knife and quarter sliced strawberry. 

You turn to where the shaker of chocolate sprinkles lies. Ah, unfortunately it is on a pretty high up shelf. No matter, you stretch out your body and reach. Fingers only scrap the glass surface. You move to your tiptoes, stomach pinched by the countertop.

“Don’t worry, Henchman! I got it!” On stubby legs, Grim stands up from his spot on the counter. He squints at the cabinet overhead and stands on his tiptoes too. He makes it about halfway less than your reach. Ribs pressing into Grim’s fur, you stretch out like an uncoiling snake. 

You watch your finger slide down the glass. So close. You stretch when the sprinkles container suddenly starts to move. Putting your hands in front of your face in the shape of a triangle, you instantly coil back into a tight position and squeeze your eyes close. The impact never comes.

A wary eye opens and watches as the red glow of Trey’s pen and the sprinkled shaker that floats over the mousse cake. No matter how much you pretend, no matter how many times you stumble into your boring Wonderland, hoping all the magic is gone, it always comes back to catch you by surprise. Normalcy … you cannot get that back unless you go home.

Trey notices how eerily silent you are as you go about cutting up strawberries and hanging some of the banged up fruit to Grim. There is only one mousse cake but plenty of tarts waiting to be served in the kitchen. Well, it can’t hurt. “Here. For you.” You blink as two empty plates are put in front of you. “The piece of cake, or tart, typically goes to the Housewarden. However, I doubt Riddle will be too mad at this development.”

“Only been gone from Heartslabyul one semester and you’re already breaking rules,” you gasp with fake terror.

He simply puts a finger to his lips, eyes shining under his glasses. Trained, he empties a slice from each sweet with deadly, applause-worthy accuracy. Two confectioneries are put on the plates in front of you. As calm as an executioner, you stare at the two slices: a tart with scales of strawberries running across it and a cake with layers of mousse and bread laddering across it. 

And you suddenly know this is something deeper than just picking which treat you want to eat. Ah, Trey Clover is a Night Raven graduate after all.

Under watchful amber eyes, you pick up your fork. 

“Ha greedy, aren’t you?”

You admonish Trey for his teasing comment. Balancing the two sweets on a fumbling fork, you take the biggest bite of the overlap. Chocolate stains your lips. Despite that, it is the strawberry tart that you taste first. 

“Aren’t I the unbirthday girl/boy? I get to be greedy!” You grin like Grim does and stab back into the confectioneries. Your fork picks off a bit of the mousse then moves to scoop off a bit of the tart before returning to your mouth. So what if you are greedy for wanting both? You can make a Wonderland for yourself.

Right?

A week and a half left. A week and a half passed. Time falls on a perfectly split down the middle day. Wednesday, the day Mountain Lovers club meetings fall on.

As time marches on, voices become more vocal about wanting you to stay. The Unbirthday party had gone swimmingly with a few rough waves. You sympathize with it. Yet you feel you have to be so careful when conversing about it, any wrong word might cause anyone to jump to a conclusion. So, with the loss of sleep, you are also talking less. 

You wonder if everyone takes your silence as a sign you have made the definite answer. 

Not everyone though. Jade Leech. Jade is the only one not acting erratically. When no filter Ace had asked him to agree with them he wanted you to stay, the eel-mer had only put a hand on your shoulder, picking you up after the Unbirthday party, and said, “Why that is not in my expertise to answer. I’m afraid that I would have to vote for a no comment statement.” 

Calm, level-headed Jade. Calculating Jade. How you adore that detached yet sly nature of his. He is the sight of land after days of aimless traveling blue waters. He is chamomile tea on a sleepless night. He is a neat white pill of xanax. 

And today, you are blessed to bask in that tranquil presence after school. Waiting to be received after knocking on his dorm door, you think upon it. No interrogation. No stress. Just you and him, hunting and sketching mushrooms. You even picked up a new set of charcoal pencils at Sam’s Shop for today. You light up when the dorm door opens. 

“Ja – oh, hi Floyd.”

Something has set off Floyd. It is evident in the deep scowl cutting itself on his face. His discord eyes are dull. His posture is slouching like a deflating house made of bad wood. When you spoke, you even saw his hand twitch into a fist. Instead of attacking, Floyd blinks down at you and sighs out, “Sorry Shrimpy.”

Your grip on your bag tightens. “Um, why are you apolog –”

“Hello (Name).” 

A little of that happy fire comes back to your soul. Smiling, you look behind Floyd to see Jade dressed in his pair of cargo pants and lightweight thermal henley. Foraging bag slung over his shoulder, he is like a breath of fresh air, the normalcy that sweats from him. “Hi honey,” your smile is innocent.

You only notice it for a brief flicker of time: a nasty glare directed from olive and gold eyes to mirroring gold and olive eyes, so hateful that your heart pats in worry that you might witness a fight between them. Then the loathing bleeds out of Floyd. He nudges you out the way, stomping down into Octavinelle’s halls.

“I’ma go. Can’t stomach watchin’ this.” Words that depart with Floyd.

“Jade?”

“What are you doing here, (Name)?”

Your stomach drops. “I - uh,” your neck is growing foolishly warm, you have not heard Jade speak so monotone in a while “, well, today is Wednesday and so I came to – uh.”

“Did my lack of response not clearly indicate that I would not be needing you for this hike?”

Further and further, your stomach sinks. You know what he is referencing, the single text you sent about thirty minutes ago: Did you want me to bring anything for tonight? It was just a quick check-up on your part. It is unlike Jade to take more than ten minutes to respond to you.

“I just thought you were busy.”

“No. I was trying to indicate that I would not need you on this particular night.”

“But … but this is our thing.” 

Much like Floyd, Jade nudges you on the way. You stumble, staring at the expanse of his shoulders and back. He refuses to turn around, “Yes, but if I am to be alone in the Mountain Lovers club for the rest of my third year, then I should slowly wane off your company. A rational decision, yes?”

A hairline fracture snakes itself up your heart. Splatting, your stomach lands on the ground. Jade will not turn around to look at you. You look down your own foraging bag where those new, suddenly silly charcoal pencils lie.

“Um, yeah, that does actually make a lot of sense.”

“I will see you tomorrow though. So don’t fret so much.”

“I’m not fretting.”

“I know you won’t. That’s what I admire about you.” 

And then, he leaves, back still a wall facing you. Perhaps you do not adore that detached yet sly nature of Jade’s in its entirety.

It is only natural that things decay. Jade knows that. Observed it happen with mushrooms a hundred plus times. Brown rot, soft rot, white rot. The fear of rot gives way to the fear of death. Death: that final departure. He wonders if when you inevitably step through into the carriage, ebon stallions with steely gray eyes as cold as the Grim Reaper’s scythe carting you away forever, if it will be like death or decay. 

Jade knows you will not stay. Who would? So he is going to do better by you right now, be kinder and more unaffected, after tonight. He just needs this solitude for a few hours.

Memories of his twin’s face are dancing in Jade’s mind when he really wants to be focusing on you. It cannot be helped. They fought physically before, but never departed from one another still needing to fight. They would have fought. They should have fought. It was only the knowledge that you were arriving in fifteen minutes that kept them shouting at each other.

Floyd thought Jade was doing wrong by you. 

Jade told Floyd to stay the fuck out of his relationship. 

“Dad always said you were the fuckin’ coward of the family.”

Jade should have thrown a punch there. Walking down the hiking trail, he feels the knot of nails into palms. Easily falling back into the therapy of forming fists, Jade relocates his hands to the strap of his bag. Not yet. He cannot get destructive yet.

“You’re not gonna even fight for them!”

No. Jade was not because he knew your soul. It would only be natural for you to return home. It would only be natural for him to return to the sea. It is only natural for things to decay, Jade reminds himself as he finally makes it deep enough into the thicket of Sage Island’s forest.

Not this though. I wanted this to stay. 

“Nothing to be done except support them.” 

Jade says this to a peculiar looking tree as he removes the forage bag off his shoulder. He deposits it down by a peculiar looking rock. He is a master of nature but it is better to have landmarks for his belongings. Rolling up the sleeve of his thermal henley, the skeletal eel tail and filigrane ends of the waves tattooed on his left side peek shy from the rolled cotton. 

“Nothing to be done.” He finalizes the word with a nod. Then, he breaks off the path into a brisk jog. 

Jade has gotten much better with the usage of legs since freshman year. Experience conducts improvement. None of them had quite taken to it fluidly. Jade can still remember when he tried stairs for the first time, shaking like a lamb, yet still finding the ability to laugh smoothly when Floyd fell down them. Though Floyd had laughed even harder at Jade when he experienced his first calf cramp, thinking he had been shot. Thank the Sevens most of their blunders had been in training camp, away from ill-intent eyes.

I hate fighting with my brother, Jade thinks as he moves slightly to the right to avoid a rock too big to jump over. He keeps pumping his arms and jogging. 

Fighting is natural for moray eels. You have to fight in the Coral Sea to keep what you covet. It is not like Jade is lacking that urge to change the situation and make you stay. But this situation? It is too close to resembling a scenario where a person quits a job for the sake of their wife’s promotion; or someone changes their dream college to settle with the one their boyfriend is choosing to attend. 

This is something I cannot put up a fuss about. Jade passes a blackberry bush and tries to stomp out the memories that come with it. 

Your excited face — hand-feeding him some berries — laughing as you gather them up — pouring them into a muffin tin — a sweet and tart memory

You have to do what is right for you, not him, not Grim, not anybody else. He should not infer or try to influence you this upcoming week and half. Jade takes a meaningless right turn, trying to get lost deeper in the woods.

Yet as he falls deeper into the thicket of trees, spores, rocks, and leaves, he finds memories returning to him:

The smell of you, distinctive like red to a bull, swimming in the college hallways or in Mostro Lounge. 

The look of pride on your face when you find yourself able to read his true intentions better than all but two of the student body. 

The feel of the first time Grim chose his lap over yours, a reluctant purr vibrating against the cotton of his gloves.

The sound of you shuffling morning sheets and the sensation of the kisses you press to his face to arouse him from sleep.

Your smiling voice left like a voicemail —

— That happy world tumbles down upon Jade like a Jenga tower, suddenly unreachable, as he too tumbles. A loose tree root snags his foot; ground flies towards him. Barely expecting it, Jade gasps as cold and wet hits his face.

Mud. Mud from the previous days’ rain presses itself to his face, soaking into his cuts and unraveled hair. Throat undulating, Jade starts to spit back the wet dirt he had taken from the earth. The crust of sediment coats his lips like a cosmetic. He watches brown saliva bubble under him.

Jade’s hands embrace the ground as he positions himself up on all fours. He watches his hand. Cold blue of his veins like the tassels of a jellyfish. Red-pink heat of his knuckles and palm bed. Contrast to the pale calcite-like bloodlessness of his skin. All of his skin ill-fitting. Pale dough splitting apart in gaping ovulate mouths. Himself. Splitting apart down to the last atom. 

I – I – I –

He can barely feel his frozen body move as he lifts up one fist. Mud-stained teeth grit. His fist flies in a frenzy. Two, five, seven, eleven, twelve, fifteen. Moving like an electric chisel, Jade punches and punches and punches into the ground until a tiny crater is left into the earth where he fell.

It is not enough and Jade knows it. He pulls his hand back, chocolate-dipped with mud and leaking from the new wounds a rock had given him, as he sits on his haunches. 

Both of his hands go up to his face, covering off where open mouth breathes flicker out of him. It is not enough.

As if he was kicked into the back of line; as if he has lost his mind; Jade jumps up with a spark, turns towards the nearest tree, and punches it. Pain splits down his arm like lightning and it feels calming. Now, red is flowing in equal measure with the brown. He wants to do it again. He wants to fight until his fiery soul is extinguished. 

People think him so different from his twin. Floyd and Jade are the same; both yearn for a good fight now and then. Jade simply hides just a small percentage better than his brother, under a sheep’s skin like an ill-fitting and tearing apart in oval holes. 

There is no need to wear that soft suit when he is alone, in a far off corner of Sage’s Island that no one is going to be at this hour.

Jade goes through the motions of his emotions, all of them rocking him as violently as Charybdis’s whirlpool. His fist falls like a meteor into tree bark. Hair is pulled and yanked, just to give him the satisfaction of pain. The ground stirs at the violence of his long legs. Finds a rock, kicks it. Finds a bigger rock, kicks it harder. Trying to break one of his toes. 

His hand flows through wet leaves and mud, grabbing a stray branch. Jade turns towards a different tree. “FUCKING SHIT!” Slices his branch down like a claymore, a hum of satisfaction blooms up as the thick twig breaks into an explosion of wooden chunks with a deafening crack. 

“FUUUCKAAAARRRGGG!” He shouts back at the answering wilderness, two inhuman sets of teeth on display. A vein in his neck strains with the pressure of his harrowing, soul-tearing screams. 

When Jade returns to his dorm, covered in mud and blood, he finds Floyd asleep. It seems his twin found his own way to relieve himself from the cliffhanger urge to fight. Jade mourns that because he has not. His own energy and need to fight seems as vast as the ocean in his anxiety of losing you. 

He wants you to stay. 

“He wants me to leave. I can see it in his face. He wants me out of his life, and this is the ideal situation to do it without directly saying it. Agh, he is such a coward at times. And what’s worse! Is that he keeps acting like nothing is wrong. He took the hike alone and came back like nothing was wrong. Same old Jade. Not a word of the situation. Oh God, what if he does want me to leave,” you lament, shaking. 

A tissue box is nudged closer to you. You stir, looking up from the hands you had shelled up your crying face into. With a sniff, you grab a tissue, “Thank you.” You blow your nose and settle back into the loveseat.

Kleenex clutched tightly in hand, you continue speaking a voice clogged with tears, “You know, I’ve been wondering why Jade won’t let me in. He obviously has an opinion on the situation yet he isn’t saying it. So then, I start thinking he is being petty because I didn’t come to him about the situation first. Like maybe he thinks I don’t trust him with that information. But it was so hard to talk to him about because he’s my boyfriend. And I just want to talk now but I’m so scared about what he will say.

“I could always read him before. I just somehow knew what he was thinking at times. Now, I feel like he’s a jigsaw puzzle missing a piece yet I don’t even know what the picture is of anymore.” 

You hesitate and pass the moment by blowing your nose again. “Honestly, I feel like that too.” With teary eyes, you look towards your confidant. He gives a tiny huff of his snout, chin resting on the loveseat’s armrest between you. His big brown eyes simply stare wistfully at you.

“Are you going to communicate that to him or just to Pongo?” 

Eyes drawn away from Pongo, Crewel’s dalmatian, you glance towards the opening of the kitchen connecting to the living room. Your professor is deep enough inside the adjacent room where you cannot see, only hear him. You reply, “I’m trying to keep us on amicable terms. I don’t want him to think that I’ve made the decision to leave.”

“Then, tell him that very sentence, pup: I have not made the decision to leave yet. If you start off with that then you can continue on with explaining the rest. Do you think he has already thought you have made the decision yet,” Crewel says as he walks out of the kitchen. 

He carries a platter out in his lavious living room. Crewel is much more of a casual manner of dressing; a devil-red button-up with a silk evening tie, ebon with engravement of flora. He puts the platter down on the table in front of the two chairs, scolding Pongo off his chair. 

“That’s just the thing: I can’t tell what he is thinking anymore. I never really understood what Ace, Deuce, and Grim meant when they said they couldn’t really read Jade’s true intentions. Now, I feel the exact same way. Just second-guessing everything that comes out of his mouth,” you vent as Crewel accesses your bad posture. 

He must feel generous because he makes no note of it. “Well, mind-reading is a magical skill that not many mages master. So, though it is unfavorable, we have to learn to trust words at face value.”

“You say that if he is not Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden. Words are Jade’s sword. And he knows better than anyone that words can be manipulative, exploitative, and false. Since I didn’t come to him first, he is going to think –”

“Octavinelle students at their best are deeply intune with the world around them. That young pup is Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden because he is deeply observant and intuitive … and deeply sympathetic. I agree that words are his sword. A sword can be used to defend and help too. Do not restrict it.”

You wait until you have finished chewing around the carrot chip in your mouth before you speak, “I know that. To me, those are some of his best qualities … But! Octavinelle students work to solve problems. Jade hasn’t even given me his thoughts on my problem.”

“Perhaps he feels that if he says a certain thing, you will resent him. Or you will suddenly pick your decision because of what he says. I’m certain he wants you to make the decision for yourself.”

“But he’s one of the main reasons this is so hard to decide upon. Him and Grim.” Crewel’s face scrunches at the mention of your troublesome cat. “I love Jade dearly and I think of Grim as family. I know Grim’s thoughts. I cannot read a single thought on Jade’s face.”

Your eyes fall down to the floor, suddenly too damp to maintain proper eye-contact. “It is like he is shutting me out while staying robotically in the same relationship we had.” 

In your ribcage, the valves and arteries of your heart give a painful jerk of agony. As if noticing, Pongo empathically rests his head upon your knee. You greet him with a soft whisper, stroking down the crown of his head to his neck. You are still shaking.

“Nothing happens when you do nothing, pup. If you keep shuffling your feet upon the matter, eventually, when it comes for you to decide, you will be making a decision purely from your soul and nothing else. But that won’t give you closure. It won’t be good for you.”

“I don’t want Jade to resent me. I don’t,” you bit back a cry. Harshly, you pick up a tissue and press it over your eyes. After a few deep breaths, you manage to gain yourself before you slip down a watery, steep incline of the mountain of your emotions. 

“If neither of you talks to each other, nothing grows. Nothing changes unless one of you manages to talk to the other.”

“It’ll be such a painful conversation.”

“The ones that reap the most rewards are often the most painful of them all.”

You look up, eyes still incredibly wet. Crewel’s eyes resemble something like dark storm clouds. That color would suggest a bit of hardships but his advice flows off him naturally. You cannot look at Crewel like he is a surrogate father if you chose this world over your own. But, you will hold onto this relationship fondly, if this world is the one you stay in.

“I want him to know my soul again. I want to be able to read his soul again.”

Sometimes, Jade seems like a mountain. A bit too poetic comparing a hiker to the very structure they climb but it is suiting. Height aside, he is out of reach frequently. Scaling him – boots slipping on sediment walls, fingers bleeding with each desperate grab of sharp rocks – had been a trail as harsh as Everest. The view from above is breathtakingly beautiful and a sweet reward trumping all others.  

Your first kiss felt like being on top of a mountain. 

Mountains are rewarding but they are still mountains. A simple slip on slick rock and you bust open the crown of your head like a senile king or an old ram. Incredibly foolish of you to trust a jagged summit to keep you safe. 

Right now, he seems quite like a mountain. You worry over each of your premedicated steps in approaching this. Sizing up which indent of rocks you are going to trust putting your weight on. One breaking underneath you will not end it. Two breaks though … Jade might pull away from you. 

Studying the eminence of his back, you pick yourself up from Ramshackle’s couch and start the hike.

Jade does not even jump when you wrap yourself around his torso. You trap him in with an embrace, X-ing arms over his chest, underneath his arms. Steadfast, Jade continues with slicing long strips of fat into precise, 12 millimeter squares. Over the side of his arm, you look at the air-tight bag of hog casing and chop onions sizzling on the stove.

“Smells delicious. You look really good when you cook.”

“You say that no matter what I do.”

“Well, I can’t help that my boyfriend’s good-looking and I have to tell him so. It is just natural that I let you know.”

“Ah, then I thank you for the wonderful insight,” Jade says, all coy allurement in his voice. His knife falls and repositions itself to the start of the sausage, again and again like a guillotine at the height of revolution. “Can I ask you to add these in the skillet? I think you happen to look delectable when cooking too.”

“Good enough to eat?”

All you get is a quick flash of teeth, playfully biting air, as you reach over Jade’s body to grab the bowl he gestured to. You smile warmly. In the bowl lies chopped shallots, parsley, scallions, and a dozen more minor ingredients that you can identify. You take them, dumping them into the skillet. A tantalizing smell rises up to you along with a cloud of steam.

Taking a spatula, you start to stir the mixture. What is on the pan bubbles and cooks. As you maneuver the ingredients to burn evenly, you cannot help but think this is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

The environment of normalcy.

The ease of talking to Jade.

What a foolish thing to want to ruin, you sneer as you push at ginger and grounded cloves. But those two things have a masquerade mask slipped over them. Neither of you have brought up the issue once since the time you spent past midnight on Ramshackle’s porch. 

“Jade?” Jade hums, letting you know he is listening. Your hundred questions feel like acid in your throat. “What are we making?”

“It is Boudin Noir de Lyon. A French blood sausage. I’ve only attempted it twice before.” With his knife, Jade points at the long glass of goose blood that you have on your counter, next to the bag of hog casing.

“Ah, I see.” 

To be honest, you were unaware you had the components in stock to make Boudin Noir de Lyon. Sometimes, Grim and Jade just showed up with bags upon bags of food or food ingredients. You could understand why Azul wanted Ramshackle as a second Mostro Lounge. Shelves are bottomless and the kitchen is so spacious after your remodel.

It is a house wasted on you. You can easily look around and imagine all those industrious chefs roaming around, cooking and serving. Would Jade be content with the tradeoff?

“Jade?” This time you are going to try to go in and not dodge the subject again.

“Yes, my love?”

“You once said eels mate for life. Was that just sweet talking or is that a fact?”

“I thought the biology of merman species didn’t interest you much.” 

You remember that, saying that you did not need biology to let you know that Jade liked you very much and you liked him very much. So what if there were hints and nuances to learn about his biology. You just liked him; you felt at ease around him. “Just please … Please answer the question, Jade.”

“Eels and eel-mers usually pick only one to spend their life with.”

“Usually?”

“In the occurrence of a death or loss of a mate before one reaches adulthood fully at twenty, some eel-mers find someone else.” Jade elects to hold your hand instead of his knife, halting your worry-energized stirring and letting the spatula rest. The only thing you notice about his touch is that he is as cold as a December death. “We were only seventeen and eighteen when we met.”

“So you could find someone else if I left,” you say with a mix of relief and sadness. Then, your hand slips through Jade’s hand. You look at it with a gut-wrenching guilt, the collision of flickering skin and your tangible skin.

“No,” he says firmly, just barely managing to keep a growl out of his voice. “No, I couldn’t find anyone else but you.” And as if saying those words restore some of the bond you had, your hand floats back up as fake bones, muscle, and skin reappears. He squeezes your hand tightly.

You take Crewel’s advice. “Jade, I haven't made my decision whether I’m going to stay or not. I want you to know that: I haven’t decided yet.”

“I know.” He says those words. But he looks at you like you are something fleeting, like you are a mushroom collapsing in on itself, mildewed and smoldering, premature decay. His ice cold hand around yours is painful tight. 

“If I leave,” you choke on your words. With a gasp, you quickly pull away from him to wipe away the tears you were unprepared to feel fall. Ice rises up to press its thumb to wipe away the water. “I-If I leave, I want to know you’ll be okay. I want to know that you aren’t hiding away all your anguish from me.”

Clipped and short: “I can’t burden you with that. The weight on your shoulders is enough.”

“You ignoring this situation is a burden. I want us to talk. I want to know what’s on your mind, what’s in your soul.”

Jade holds his tongue. You try to pull your cheek away from him but that just worsens the misery in his eyes. You fall still, waiting.

“Jade?”

“I’d never be able to recover.”

“Huh,” you gasp breathless.

Even after such powerful words, Jade still holds his tongue in the cage of his mouth. The influence of words is not lost on a man such as him. If anything it is evident as emotions are on his twin’s face, unhidden. So very unlike Jade who keeps everything hidden to a certain degree.

Lifting a rock off his chest, unburdening himself, Jade confesses, “If you were to leave, I’d never be able to recover. There would be a hole in my heart always ready to receive you again.” 

Disconnected, you feel one tear race down the right side of your face and another tear catch on the curve of your left cheek, hanging and warm.

You were not ready to hear that. You thought you could handle hearing Jade’s true emotions but you had expected him to be losing interest. In his first year, he was fascinated with manholes; in his second year, he was fascinated with mushrooms; you expected this romantic interest to be fleeting. He learned to play bass in middle school then never picked it up again. Jade grows bored, he tosses things away, thus is nature.

He still has an interest in mushrooms, you think, he is settling down with his interests.

Were you two fleeting? An insecure part of you expected to be fleeting to him. I’d never recover. That is a far cry from a passing fancy that washes and recedes like the tide. 

“I’m sorry for saying my true feelings.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you say, blinded by tears.

“But I’m making you cry. I’m cruel.”

You take his face in your hands, fingers clumsy due to impaired sight. “I’m glad to know it though. I’m glad you can say that.” Then, shaking, you go in for a kiss. And the fake Jade vanishes back into the photograph, leaving you puckering up for cold air.

With the sweet smell of a French meal you do not know how to cook lingering in the air, you cry and cry. 

You only have three days left to make a decision.

I’d never be able to recover. 

You have been rotating those words around in your head for thirty-eight hours. Moving the sentence around like it is a puzzle piece in a game. Dissecting it like it is the evidence that a serial killer left in the heat of crime. Even considering the weight of the punctuation mark. 

The true feelings of the soul of Jade Leech.

Grief comes without any sort of recovery. Instead, hurt erodes from the turret of time that passes through and splashes about but ultimately without cure.

I’d never be able to recover? Who’s to say that’s true?

But, the same sentiment rings true in your soul. Whichever you choose, the recovery path for the only choice will be fierce and full of regret. You will slice a part of your soul up and crush it no matter whether you go home or you stay in Twisted Wonderland. You pluck yourself out of the memory as you pluck a bottle of nightshade off Professor Crewel’s supply rack in potionology. 

Despite everything, you attend classes and unbirthday parties and … well, you would have attended club meetings, to procrastinate on the decision. If you leave, you leave with nothing but the skin on your back. You pour the deadly nightshade in the cauldron as Riddle, your lab partner, keeps stirring. You only have a day left. The phone in your pocket has been buzzing all day with concern but among the ladder of contracts you slide through you never see Jade 💕 among them. 

Pulling away to save us both the hurt, you think with a smile. That is so Jade, I should have been able to predict that. You watch the whirlpool of the gray mixture. Yeah, I’d never recover either. Then your lab goggles slowly but surely start to fill with tears. 

Riddle stops stirring, tool falling from his hand, when he sees you remove your goggles out of the corner of his eyes. You push them up and reveal bright red eyes brimming with tears. Tears so glutinous and heavy that it almost looks like melted wax. 

You cry because you know what you are going to pick. Your soul may fiercely want both options, impossibly greedy. Yet, now in the blimp of time, this pocket of your life, you have chosen the one you will go with. Removing the gloves from your hands, you start to furiously scrub away the ocean draining from you. It is so difficult to see. 

“Prefect, do you need to use the eyewash station? (Name)?”

“Ri-Rid,” you wheeze out. The waterfall is cascading down your face, clogging your voice. Gradually, the sound of you crying is starting to pick up a bit in volume.

“Prefect, what’s wrong? Here, I can use a spell to get it out of your eyes if you need. Did something splash up from the mixture?” You feel his smaller hand timidly rest on your quivering bicep. Sevens, your entire body is shaking like a power-drill. 

Students are starting to look in your direction. Morbid curiosity draws their eyes to you, listening to the gut-wrenching sobs you expel. Riddle’s face hardens in a glare. Frustration lies pink on his cheeks. With the force of your sobs, your knees start to tremble, tipping over the fence edge of buckling. You are a wreck.

“Professor Crewel –.” 

“Every single pup is excused from class. Right now.” 

The door is already magic-ed open. It takes a minute for others to pile out, some lingering in curiosity and some leaving steadfast in their recoil to no longer hear your cries. The click of the door breaks you and you finally collapse. Riddle goes down with you, gentle hand glued to your arm. 

“I need to make a call,” you manage to get out from your wet throat, crying as if you are grieving. You suppose it is appropriate. You are grieving someone who you will lose tomorrow and never see again. “I need to –”

“Who do you need to call, (Name)? I can call them for you.”

“Pup.” Crewel does not finish his thought.

You are back to being incomprehensible, crying like you have never cried before. Water coats your face and no matter which direction or what material you use, you cannot dry your face against the assault. Jade. You want Jade so badly. 

Riddle – top of his class yet failing the grade of life – stares, not knowing who you want or how to solve this. He grew up isolated; comforting others is not his specialty. “I could call Ace and Deuce. I can –” Riddle quickly locates his phone, fingers frantic. The phone slips out of his grip when a hand starts pounding against the classroom door. 

Beyond the tears, you hear:

“Class is dismissed –”

“Striped beakfish, move it.”

“Pup, I’ll have you –”

“Professor Crewel, I need to –”

“Shrimpy’s in there move it.”

“I don’t have time for this – move.” 

The arm in Riddle’s hand is suddenly wrenched away. You puppet your head up forcefully despite your tears. You should have known. Jade knows your soul after all. 

If it was under any other circumstances, it would be either terrifying or oddly hilarious, the open concern on Jade’s face. He collapses right down on the ground in front of you after pushing Professor Crewel out of his way. His face is taut with the emotions on it, a far cry from the always composed look he has. Only you could get such a reaction. His knee bumps your knee but you do not mind, throwing yourself on him and crying yourself dry of grief. 

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m not going to let you go, my love. I got you in my arms, okay?”

Jade’s single yellow eye manages to catch the bewildered look on Riddle’s face. There is a question in the housewarden’s expression: what’s wrong? It is obvious to Jade. You picked whether you want to stay or go.

A soul bond is engrained in the two holders. It allows them to read each other easily when they are at their strongest in a relationship. Thus, Jade knows exactly what you cry for. Riddle misjudges it as stress or a laboratory accident. Jade knows exactly why those tears fall down your face. You are staying in Twisted Wonderland. He knows in the beautiful, snotty, and wrinkled mess on your face: you are staying with him.

It is odd; all you wanted before was to talk, discuss, have a heart to heart vocally. You wanted so badly to restore your crippled communication. Now, you do not need a single word to let him know the entire situation, all the nuances are laid bare on your soul. 

“I got you. I’ll always be here, my love.”

He wipes flushed, wet cheeks and pulls you back in for a tight hug. You know when you feel tears fall onto your collarbone that they are his own soul thanking you for trusting him. 

The hand on Jade’s bicep is like ice.

Jade twitches, nose scrunching up. His bed tries to lure him back and make him ignore the comatose-cold hand on his arm. It is not a hard task; he is exhausted beyond belief and wants to sleep. His head tousles in the lilac pillow, falling back off the cliff into dreams, when the frozen hand starts to shake his arm.

“Mmm.”

“J … Ja … Jade.”

“Mmmmmm.”

Leave him alone. He is tired. Binding his pallid arms around the pillow in an amorous hold, he tries to dream. The room swelters with summer heat and the silk is like a balm to him. His bare stomach lies the inner sheets and the muscular expanse of rhomboids block out whoever is calling his name. Leave him alone.

“Jade, wake up please. Please Jade.”

“Leave me alone,” Jade groans into the pillow, words distorted with fatigue.

Above him, a sniffle and pathetic hissing cry breaks the heat. The sound is familiar. Out of mouth that is stringy with prison bars of salvia, tears, and snot, his name is called again. Around his eel sleeve tattoo, the hand remains shackled to him, gently shaking with each hiccup of tears. 

“Jade. Wake up.”

“Love?”

He blinks and there you are. Blue tears fall down your face and ice fingers pinch into ink. Jade is suddenly awake, releasing the pillow he was embracing and turning on his back, motions hazy with sleep. “Love?” His warm fingers reach up to thumb away the steady waterfall on your cheeks. Sevens, you are freezing. 

“What’s wrong,” he asks as he sits up in bed. For some odd reason, you are dressed up in your white button-up and slacks like you have somewhere to be going. His other hand reaches up and then he cups your face in his embrace. “What’s wrong, (Name)?”

“I wanna go home. Oh, Jade, I really want to go home,” you blubber breathlessly between your bawling. “I just – oh God – I want to go home.” Then, you fall into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly and sobbing anew. Sobbing inconsolable for your mother.

Jade knows that there are fresh tears wetting his bare collarbone but he feels distinctly out of his mind. Like his skin is not really his own, floating in a stranger’s body. Grasped in the throes of selfish panic, he pushes you tighter into his shirtless torso. Sleepy strands of hair are in his mouth; haunted eyes are unfocused in the dark of his room. Despite his large height, he truly does feel like he cannot come to terms with your words and is kicked out of his body because of it. 

Subconsciously, his dominant hand runs over your back in circles. Trying to use it as a rope to come back to his senses more than to comfort you. 

Home? But he had thought — had he mistakenly pushed his own soul’s objective onto you — you cannot go home!

“(N-Name). (Name), love,” Jade says into your ear. You do not respond, hysterically loud enough to drown out his voice.

He is surprised that Floyd has not woken up. The pitch and volume that you cry at is like someone screaming in a cave, knowing they are in solitude and can let it all go. Even when your teeth bite into his shoulder, your cries are far from quieting. 

It does not matter if Floyd was a deep sleeper — which he isn’t, Jade is the deeper sleeper of the two — no one should be able to sleep through this.

Yet, grateful Floyd is asleep, Jade hugs you tightly to his warmer skin. Shushing, he runs a hand down the crown of your head to your shoulder, hoping his touch will ground both of you from the cloud of agony. His grip is piercing, dug tight into your skin, but you do not bleed. Holding you so you do not escape him and leave for your home world. Selfish Selfish Selfish. 

Eventually you fall asleep; no one can cry like that without exhausting themselves. 

Eventually he falls asleep, blinking watery at his desk, thinking something is wrong with the image and doubly petrified for the morning. 

When he wakes up, there is no one in his bed.

#jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello there, glad to see you again, quick question how would the students, Professors and villains react to MC having an army of puffskein's like 27-41 puffskein's?

A/N: PUFFSKIENS ROLL OUT!! wait, wrong franchise-undercut because EVERYONE is here

HLC REACT TO MC'S PUFFSKIEN ARMY

MC had enough to swarm even the toughest camp. No one could handle the mass of cute they commanded. MC felt more powerful than if they were controlling an armada of dragons. Forget a few dozen. MC has HUNDREDS of rolly polly puff balls. They breed rather quickly

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He finds it hysterical! Watching MC command the flood of fur to overtake any suspicious encampment they come across is extremely entertaining. The enemies never know what hit them.

OMINIS GAUNT: He's not a fan of Puffskiens. He doesn't like their fascination with his nose. And for MC to willingly capture and breed so many of them is beyond him. He will never go inside the vivarium, even when invited.

ANNE SALLOW: She really likes hanging out in the vivariums. She can just lay down and be cuddled by hundreds of walking pillows. It's rather nice, as long as you wear nose plugs.

IMELDA REYES: Are they serious? No really, stop selling her this cock and bull story of puffskiens defeating wizards. She refuses to believe it until MC opens their nabsack and releases the horde. She has to escape them via broom.

NATSAI ONAI: She applauds MC's creativity. She is sure that the villains of the valley have many defenses against wizards, but who would expect puffskiens?

GARRETH WEASLEY: Unlimited puffskien fur. That's how he sees it. MC produces so much of the stuff, they could stuff a mattress.

LEANDER PREWETT: ...hhwat? This has got to be the single most insane thing he's ever heard of. A literal puffskien army? This will go down in the history books alongside the Bard that tried to teach trolls ballet.

AMIT THAKKAR: Are they sure that's actually safe? For them or the puffskiens? He knows the little things are pretty durable to magic, but they're not invulnerable.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He begs MC to let him borrow the nabsack to use in the Ravenclaw dorm. Why? They'll see.

POPPY SWEETING: This is a lot, even for her. Is MC sure they can handle this many beasts? They may be small, and relatively docile, but they can be quite a handful even in small groups. She does love the irony of poachers and dark wizards being defeated by them, however.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: He'll admit, of all the ideas MC has had, this is one of the weirder ones. As long as they're sure they can actually take care of all those beasts, he won't interfere.

MATILDA WEASLEY: MC is doing what with an army of what? Nonono, absolutely not. MC getting themselves into trouble on purpose is bad enough, but she cannot allow a student to run amok with an irresponsible number of beasts in their pocket. She will confiscate that nabsack until MC can use it responsibly.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She's impressed. No matter how small, magical creatures tend to have minds of their own. One has to be a pretty strong leader to maintain control over such a large group.

AESOP SHARP: As long as those beasts aren't running amuck in the castle, he doesn't give a niffler's ass.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He is endlessly amused by MC's depth for whimsy, even in dire circumstances. Fighting off villains with Puffskiens? BRILLIANT!

MIRABEL GARLICK: Oh dear, she hopes MC is able to care and feed for all of those beasts. That seems like quite a few to take care of.

MUDIWA ONAI: Is this...normal for British wizards? Seems a bit eccentric.

BAI HOWIN: That's one way to handle the poaching problem, she supposes.

DINAH HECAT: She'll have a drink with Sharp. This isn't any of her concern. MC is doing just fine. Calm down Matilda, honestly.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He never knows the goings on outside of his classroom.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She swears on the nine realms, if she finds ONE puffskien hair in her classroom, she's taking house points.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: A student fighting dark wizards with puffskiens? Please, don't bore him with outright lies. He's too clever for those.

~~~

VICTOR ROOKWOOD: This is ridiculous!! It's bad enough he's losing territory and respect within the valley, but for his gang to be dismantled by bloody puffskiens!? It's embarrassing, to put it lightly.

ASHWINDERS: They're confused by the messages sent to them by Rookwood. "Beware the Puffskiens?" What's he going on about? They find out soon enough when the earth rumbles with rolling thunder as hundreds of fur balls descend on them.

POACHERS: Interestingly enough, puffskiens have been extraordinarily hard to find as of late. Perhaps they over poached the area and now they're gone. At least that's what they think, under they're buried under a mountain of fur.

RANROK: What. The actual. Grogtash? He has seen and heard of wizards doing some wacky things to fight back, but this is a first. Even when his loyalists use dark ancient magic against the horde, their numbers are too great.

~~~

DUNCAN HOBHOUSE: Lives in constant fear of the puffskien invasion. He sees them in his sleep. Hundreds of long, hungry tongues come to eat his brain! If he sees MC in the corridors, he runs away.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #imelda reyes #anne sallow #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting #hogwarts legacy professors #hogwarts legacy villians #victor rookwood #ranrok

[akanesheep]

How they fell for MC: Part 3

Leviathan:

Our favorite otaku does not fall fast or easily. He’s naturally suspicious and distrusting of outsiders, even more so since his arrival in the Devildom. This normie human shows up and wants to tease their way in? No way.

The whole TSL debacle? That was negative points. If he hadn’t been stopped Lotan surely would have killed you. (Which he remembers with much regret) He’s our boy, but our boy has a temper inside that meek exterior.

When you apologized, and began to interact, he kept you at a distance, definitely watching for any signs of deception.

‘They’re cute’ he’d think and blush. ‘NONONO! Absolutely not! No normie stuff, besides, they’d be better off with someone, anyone else’

Ahh his sin. Taking all his skill, ability, and self-confidence and assurance, and stuffing it deep inside himself. All that was left on the surface was jealousy and envy. Most of the time, he only felt able to do everything through the screen of his computer. No normie human could understand how he feels.

Wait, you actually do like anime and games? Hold up, put up or shut up. He demands you prove this. Quizzing you constantly about various animes and games. You play MMORPG’s? Even better. You’re gonna be his raid partner now. To stop the constant quizzing to prove how much you actually know, you show him pictures of bookcase after bookcase lining your room in the human realm. Anime, manga, figures and games lined each one.

His eyes widened, finally believing you. He may have a good friend here. Anime nights are a constant whenever he can sneak you away.

Slowly with each visit, each round of game and anime nights, he found himself thinking more and more about his Henry. Wait… when did that become a simple fact that they were that important to them? He feels his face flush and admonish himself for thinking like a normie. Then envy takes over. He berates himself for even thinking someone like you could like or even lo-love him back? He’s not worth it… and besides, you had to hate him deep down for trying to kill you.

But you happily came over all the time… you smiled at him. Even caught you blushing at him once. He does this over and over. His adoration for you growing by the day, partially content to love you from afar as he finds himself unworthy, and his jealousy demanding action, unable to hold it all in.

You meanwhile made it obvious to everyone that you loved this glorious Otaku, this demon of envy. Finally you helped him along by kissing his cheek one night after months of build up getting him comfortable with sitting close, then sitting side by side, eventually over time into very innocent cuddles. Both of you blushing, but he looked like a tomato each time… but when you kissed him? He jumped and threw himself sideways, stammering and gesturing, even apologizing… you calm him down, and tell him you love him. He looked at you stunned for a moment, his face somehow getting redder. You wondered if he was going to reach purple when his protests began anew. His envy causing ever self doubt to gush forward, ever argument for why that couldn’t be true. How any of his brothers were a way better choice.

You put a finger to his lips, told him that you love alll of his brothers… but you love him, you have to tell him why. Otherwise he would never believe you no matter how many times you said it. You have to fight his envy and overpower it with truth.

When you finish, you lean forward and kiss his lips softly, and whisper ‘I love you’ again to him.

He stammers, then leaning forward he kisses you back, his lips tight and trembling. He can’t say the words back yet… not those specific words. So he says ‘me too’

@haydensky01

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me x reader #I always write more about Levi

[howlingday]

Penny doesn’t really mind all of the Silver Eyed cryptid stuff.

Penny: Oh, pardon me! Was I in your way?

Weiss: No, I was just... (Sighs) Did you see a Faunus running through here?

Penny: I did. (Points) He climbed up that building. Are you pursuing him as a courtship ritual?

Yang: Snrk! Yeah, Weiss, are you?

Weiss: Shut up. No, he's a criminal, and we intend to follow him to ensure he's not running off to join the White Fang.

Blake: Just because he's a Faunus doesn't mean he's going to join the White Fang!

Weiss: You're right. The fact he's a criminal AND a Faunus means he's going to join the White Fang.

Penny: May I ask a question?

Weiss: Yes!

Blake: No!

Yang: Ugh... Sure. What's up?

Penny: Your friend has not blinked for 62.83 seconds. Is she still functional?

Yang: Huh? Oh, yeah, that's just my sister, Ruby. She's like that sometimes. It's weird, but you know how family is, right?

Penny: I do not.

Yang: Oh... Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to-

Penny: Sal-u-tations! My name is Penny Polendina!

Yang: Huh? (Turns) Nonono! Don't shake her hand!

Penny: What is your- Oh... Oh my. It seems you've dismembered my arm. (Smiles) It is no problem. I can simply reattach it. (Takes arm, Reattaches) See?

Weiss: ...

Blake: ...

Yang: ...

Ruby: (Takes hand)

Penny: I noticed you have silver eyes. Those are 99.999 repeating percent genetic rarity. Would you like to discuss?

Ruby: (Lifts hand, Rubs it)

Penny: Oh! Does this mean you want to be friends?

Blake: ...

Weiss: ...Yan-

Yang: I see it. I just refuse to believe it.

#rwby #ruby rose #penny polendina #silver eyed warriors are cryptids #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna