#It's due to me switching the order of pages

[bonniecupcake]

PART 27 pages 121 - 122

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☆First pages☆

COMIC SERIES

Ko-Fi ❤️

[mpchev]

Update on fanbinding dissertation: binding the dissertation itself!

After many days and nights of writing and wrangling footnotes and proofreading (where I couldn't convince my laptop that yes, I meant textualisation, not sexualisation), 'twas time to bind the beasts! In three copies, no less! Which I approached with way too much confidence from my one fanbind experience, and came with many fun little surprises due to the format guidelines I had to follow 🤡

This is going to be a long one, so here's my happy unfocused mug to confirm that it all ends well:

First pickle: The typesetting. I absolutely loved typesetting fanfic, but the dissertation had to be A4 (way less fun, boo-hoo), one-sided, with every page numbered. Did you know that LibreOffice won't let you add blank pages and only number the non-blank ones, without skipping numbers? In order to print signatures I could fold into one-sided pages, only numbered on the right-hand pages, I ended up switching to landscape orientation and including the equivalent of a blank page in the left margin.

Second pickle: The imposing, which I couldn't figure out using the amazing bookbinder with my weird landscape 2-page layout. I finally gave in and rearranged all the pages manually, which looked like p. 1 on the recto / p. 10 on the verso, then p2/p9, p3/p8, p4/p7, p5/p8, p6/p7. And because there was no way I was paying print-in-colour prices for all of this, I further split the manually imposed pages into two files, one for the greyscale printer (cheaper) and one for the colour printer (highway robbery). Still came up to ~£70, just for printing.

Very glad I went in chunks of 10 for the signatures, it made both the math and the folding using sheets from two different piles much easier, highly recommend (if for some absurd reason you also want to bind one-sided numbered pages in folded signatures).

Third pickle: Linear time. Had planned on having so much time to print and bind this thing, but kept writing and rewriting and proofing and oops! It was due in less than 24 hours and it was still not out of the laptop. So.

22/09/24, 6pm: Got to the library, started printing.

6.45pm: Found another printer where all the paper was the same shade of white, started printing again 🤦‍♂️ (kept the the misprints to use as scrap paper when glueing)

7.30pm: Started folding the 150 sheets of paper (3 x 100-page dissertation, 2 pages per sheet). Went from the last episode of The Magnus Protocol, to an episode of Welcome to Night Vale, to deciding restart The Magnus Archive, which felt almost poetic.

9pm: Headed back home, trimmed the edges (with a borrowed guillotine), folded the endpapers, stabbed everything. Lack of pictures to be blamed on my inability to mess with linear time, and the eventual sleep deprivation.

10.30pm, I think? Started sewing the signatures together, again with Supernatural (which I started rewatching when I submitted my first dissertation assignment in mid-May, and finished 2 days after submitting the dissertation itself, again, such poetry).

2am, probably? Tipped the endpapers and glued cheesecloth over the spines. Somehow figured out where to set the three textblocks to dry (I don't have a press). Sadly gave up on sewing on (or glueing) headbands, because time.

3am-ish: Cut the missing cover pieces out of millboard (had already cut 4 of 6 covers, since I knew it had to be A4), measured the spines of the three textblocks and cut those as well.

???am: Did some math, because sure, that's the right time for that. Cut the bookcloth to size, glued the cover pieces on the bookcloth. Remarkably only messed up the measurements on one of them! That means one of the copies has a millimetre of millboard showing in the inside corners of the back cover, but not enough time/bookcloth/millboard to redo it, onward we go!

Way past dawn: Took a break for food while the covers somewhat dried. Cased the three textblocks in the three covers, with the endpapers bubbling, which took me by surprise since it was the same paper and same glue I had used for the fanbind without any problem. I'm now thinking that bigger book = more time needed to apply the glue = endpapers getting warped, but I was so exhausted by this point that who knows. Again, no time to redo it!

9.30am: Stacked the dissertations under the heavy reference books I used to write the dissertation. Toute est dans toute hein. Went to bed while they (mostly) dried.

2.30pm: Woken up by my neighbour's dj set. Eventually put all that hard work in a tote and walked to school to hand it in at 4.30pm.

Fourth and last pickle: The titling. Couldn't find paper long enough to do a half-dust jacket like I did last time. Had big cutout plans, ran out of time and couldn't finish testing those. Also had some thicker textured paper I thought of cutting and glueing to the cover as a title card, but it turned out too thin and was warping. Finally resigned myself to submitting it with a blank cover, but one of my teachers asked if I would mind adding the title on with metallic markers to make it easier to identify (one copy will eventually be on the shelf at the Institute), and I'm SO HAPPY with how it turned out. Metallic markers. Why didn't I think of that. (I did, however, think about dressing appropriately for the occasion.)

So, is it possible to print and bind 3 books in less than 24 hours? Yes! Am I glad I did it? Also yes, very satisfying, love being extra! Would I do it again? God no, I've been sleeping for two weeks and I still haven't recovered. Can't wait to start binding something else though, so I guess it wasn't that bad.

That's it! That's over! Aaaaaah! Now waiting for the grade and comments, and hopefully soon I'll be able to share the content as well.

I'll also try to post some more about the research/writing process itself, somewhere between the late nights reading international treaties on income tax and the early mornings spent figuring out how to apply for a phd next.

Thank you so much to everyone who followed along, this was way more fun than I ever could have hoped!

[rileysluvr]

super short price nsfw because i am his girlie til the day i die. he’s a bit of a meanie in this one tho so read with caution!!

“Again,” he orders.

You take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to somewhat ground yourself, but it’s a difficult feat when you're being held down on your surperior’s hard lap by his big arm splayed over your hips. A thick, dusty book on the desk in front of you, flipped to the page that entirely covers the military-workplace regulations he was scolding you for until tears began to bead at your waterline. You don’t think you’ve ever been this humiliated.

Your vision is blurry, and it’s at that point where your memory serves you better than what you’ve been ordered to do, which is to read until you can’t. He’s broken you down to a writhing mess atop his thigh as both of yours can only drape over one of his huge ones. Back flush against his chest with his palm rubbing your pussy in all the right ways; you swallow thickly, wondering if you can even go on any longer in this state.

“Fifty-nine, oh-one: ‘Service personnel are to wear-” you pause to breathe, fighting back a stutter, “…appropriate regulation uniform on duty—”

A bashful whimper cuts you off mid-recitement as he somehow manages to shove his two fingers even deeper into your cunt, nudging against your nerves rather harshly. Your legs squeeze around his thigh and your hands twitch in their place wrapped around to your sides. All the willpower in your body being used to keep yourself from bucking your hips forward and earning another half-hour of degrading names and treatment.

“Did you hear me tellin’ you to stop?” he barks, but it’s in that calmer manner that spins your mind around until you can’t decipher the difference between anger and sympathy. You shake your head, and you don’t need to have a visual on his face to feel the disapproval teetering off his bitten tongue and firm expression. “Then why don’t I hear you reading, eh?”

Your voice trembles, almost enough for him to take pity on you; “Sir, please- I’m trying.”

You weren’t even on duty today, for fuck’s sake. You had stopped by to pick up a personal belonging, only to be reminded how your captain views you as his own the second you step foot through the base’s front gate. And you were never good at avoiding his stalking gaze, especially when he’s got access to eyes stationed at every nook and corner.

“Christ, y’need me to spell it out for you? Is that it?” he scoffs. “How many times’ve we been over this?”

The way he berates and babies you has your cheeks stained and glistening with tears, and your mind all jumbled considering how easily he switches back and forth from mean to soft. Soft like how his fingers pull out and away from your cunt and hold themselves just far enough to make you shift your hips forward in search of them, only to be held back by his arm’s weight. Mean like his spat words and the grip with which he grabs your jaw, squeezing tight and puffing your cheeks out a bit in an attempt to get you to focus; to knock some sense into that strained, precious little brain of yours.

“Pretty fuckin’ simple task for a soldier, if y’ask me.”

Because deep down, he truly cares about your well-being. He only wants the best for his girl, and the dynamic between you.

And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your superior even more than you already have, now, would you?

He lets go of your face to allow you to finish, a nervous and newfound quietness croaking in your throat in addition to your already shy voice after his display of aggression; “—except when otherwise ordered by a Commanding Officer…’”

“Good girl,” he drags upon your completion, along with his hand that sneaks back into your panties. You jump from the coldness of his skin but he barely pays any mind to it. “Keep going for me, now, pretty. Go ‘head and skip some.”

It’s a repeated process; you recite what you know, mess up due to his cruel ways of sadistic teasing, and watch on from the outside as your self-respect crumbles so easily. You acknowledge it, you feel it, and you willingly ignore it because you know that whatever he plans on giving you afterwards will far surpass any other means to pleasure.

His time, his teachings and guidance, his own pleasure. They’re better than gifts, really.

“‘No item of uniform which has not been authorized is to be worn.’” You mumble for the entirety of the final sentence, now expecting him to get on you for not speaking clearly enough.

Instead, his middle finger delves between your folds and dips into your cunt at last, ripping a hiss and another whine from high in your throat from his rough treatment.

“And who authorizes your uniform?” he finally asks.

He adds his ring finger and the fullness in your cunt would be uncomfortable if the heel of his palm wasn’t digging into your clit at the particular angle. It numbs the stretch and your worries, so much so you nearly forget what he had asked you.

You gasp, eyes shooting open to meet cold, empty office in stark contrast to the warm, staggering frame pressed up against your back. Every muscle and every flex beneath the cotton material of his shirt being embedded into your mind.

“You do, Sir—mph!—it’s only you.”

An approving rumble from his chest vibrates against your back, and you lean into him with a soft moan when he curls his fingers upward in that way he knows you respond to the best. Head leant back on his shoulder, you hold onto his arm to stabilize your spinning mind once he begins slipping his rough fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy more firmly.

“So you show up to base in this pretty, little dress on your off-day, and expect to leave here without any punishment?”

His words exceed intimidating to a great extent, but the way he coos them so gently right by your ear leads directly to you scrambling them into nothing more than sweet blurbs and mumbles. He continues his short scolding as if he doesn’t know how dumb he’s got you already, ready to make you bite the consequences for your inability to respond to him later.

“Distractin’ me ‘nd all the other men here while we work, like you don’t know what your body does to them. What you’re worth around here, to the lot of bastards falling asleep with their dicks in their hands to the pretty image of you dressed like this,” he emphasizes with the tug of your dress’s ending hem.

“Sir,” you whine, not paying a single nod to his language because your numbed mind can simply no longer compute it. Muffled and unclear, though the mean and deep drawl that bleeds through pushes you all the much closer to bliss.

“Feels good, I—please… ’m so, so close, Sir—!”

You whine and clasp your hand down on his arm for some sort of spiritual stabilization, and he only picks up the pace. He works you up so quickly after edging you for what felt like hours, as this time he gives absolutely no notion to relenting.

“That right?” Of course, you can’t respond with much more than a whimper as you rock your hips back and forth on his hard thigh, his skilled fingers working you up to ecstasy.

“Yes, yes ‘m gonna—it’s too much, Sir, ‘m gonna come—!”

He chuckles, his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer into him. You convulse around his fingers and moan through your high as he militantly, yet somehow so expertly, turns your vision to stars and your limbs into a limp mess atop him. It’s like he knows your body better than you do yourself, making you come harder with his fingers alone than anyone has ever. You thank him profusely, soft words of mantra like music to his ears as he decides what to do with you next.

He gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping both his hefty arms around you and hauling you up in front of him, big palm instantly meeting with your shoulder blade to shove you down on the wooden desk and ripping a gasp from high in your lungs. He leans over you, caging you in as he soothes his hand across your forehead; his version of intimacy, and whatnot.

You’re panting, utterly exasperated, but simply can’t help the way you wiggle your hips back against his to chase that good friction. He laughs at your display of neediness for his cock, knowing it’ll be a much longer while before he’ll let you have it.

“My stupid fuckin’ toy,” he mutters softly against your skin, and it sounds just as good as any flattering compliment would.

He takes the hem of your dress and hikes it up to reveal your ass, humming at the sight before leaning back in to kiss your temple. Facial hair tickling and invading your senses, nearly feeling like a sweet treat to shush the way you whine out with his hard bulge pressed up against where you’re most sensitive.

Thoughts of what he could do to you right now running rampant through both of your minds, none differing from each other nor unwanted from either party.

“You’re gonna let me use this body however I like, until you learn to behave yourself ‘round your coworkers. Till you learn a fuckin’ lesson for once. Sound quite alright, sweetheart?”

[merakiui]

The Most Dangerous Game [2]

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, slight hints of dub-con, coercion, manipulation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, obsession, unrequited/one-sided love, brief angst, choking, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, characters written as 18+ note - it is never a good idea to make mutually beneficial arrangements with jade leech. // split into two parts due to size. read the first half here.

There’s a certain air about you when you enter the Mostro Lounge.

Radiating confident satisfaction, a cutthroat type of on-top-of-the-world aura that replaces any first day jitters attempting to rise to the surface, you beeline for the kitchen. You know the lounge’s layout well enough—not only as a customer who spent an obsessive amount of time observing these details, but also as Jade’s diligent taste-tester. You’ve been let into the lounge kitchen after hours more often than you’d like to admit, but it only serves to bolster your mental fortitude.

I’m going to kill it today, you assure yourself. Prove to Azul that I’m capable and get closer to Floyd in the process.

As if having read your thoughts, Floyd intercepts you. “Heyyy, Shrimpy really showed up!” He circles you like a curious shark, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. “Lookin’ good.”

You reward his ogling with a twirl in your new uniform, which had been conveniently waiting at your doorstep this morning—wrapped in a pretty box with a big bow. The card had simply read: A uniform to celebrate your newly acquired Officially Octavinelle status. You didn’t have to read further to know who signed the message, and the note had been swiftly torn in two and tossed into the trash while you lamented to Grim and the ghosts about a certain stupid, sly eel.

“Aren’t I just the spitting image of scummy scams and the deep sea?”

“The most spittin’ image anyone’s ever spat,” he agrees with a silly giggle. But then something serious passes over his features. He plucks your hat from off your head and leans in close. “It’s Shrimpy’s first day, so I’m gonna letcha in on a li’l somethin’, kay?”

Out of instinct, you shrink away. His voice is a dangerous whisper, lined with threatening undertones. “Anyone gives you any trouble, you come to me, got it? Don’t think you can’t say nothin’ cuz you’re new.”

“Oh. O-Oh!” You nod hastily, too astounded to rely on your usual quick-witted coherency. “Thank you… I appreciate that.”

Like a flipped switch, he brightens and plops your hat back on your head. “Man, I’m pumped! It’s gonna be so much fun with Shrimpy here!”

You adjust your hat and skip after him, not wanting to slip out of his orbit. “So what’s the plan for today?”

Floyd grins and holds a card between his fingers like a magician readying to reveal his next trick. Foolishly, you assume it’s a love letter up until you watch him scribble something down on a second card. He passes the unmarked one to you, explaining, “Ya gotta sign in for every shift. These things keep track of the hours ya worked, and at the end of every two weeks Azul counts ’em up.”

“That makes sense.” You take the pen he offers and scribble your name and the time in the appropriate boxes, soon handing both to him.

“And after you put it back here, you can start doin’ what you’re supposed to. Least, that’s what I usually do.”

“And that is?”

“Whatever I feel like.”

“Ah, right. Then what about me? What should I do?”

“You’re gonna be with me today. We’ll be takin’ orders and servin’ customers. Doin’ stuff as we go. That sorta thing.”

“All right! Sounds easy enough!” The both of you high-five just as Jade approaches, wearing his usual polite smile.

“My, my. Someone’s in high spirits.”

You nod, too eager to entertain him with another pointless argument. “You bet! Oh, and thanks for the uniform.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Your nose scrunches at his too-proud inflection, but your attention is soon snatched away when Floyd returns with a notepad and pen.

You flip to a fresh page, curiously clicking your pen. “I’m assuming there’s a system for taking orders?”

“Precisely,” Jade interrupts, smoothly striding between you and Floyd, a hand over his heart. “We use abbreviations when taking orders. It’s quick and convenient. I’ll help you as you go.”

Floyd easily steps around Jade, draping an arm on your shoulder and tugging you against him. Your heart skyrockets into your throat at this newfound closeness. “You’ll get it in no time. S’not difficult at all. And if Shrimpy gets stuck, she’s got me.”

Jade stares at Floyd, a ghost of a frown turning his lips down. “She’ll have both of us,” he corrects coolly. “Azul tasked both of us to train her, after all.”

“Yeah, but you’re just gonna do things by the book. That’s no fun at all.” Floyd spins you to look at him. “You want me to train ya, right? It’ll be more fun that way.”

You lock eyes with Jade over Floyd’s shoulder. Though they’re dulled with emptiness, he smiles and nods encouragingly. “Uh… I mean, of course I want you to train me. But Azul might get angry if I mess up on my first day because I wanted to have fun. Seems a little…irresponsible.”

He’ll definitely count it as my first strike, too. There’s no way I’m risking that.

Floyd pouts, his entire frame melting with disappointment. “Aww. Shrimpy’s lame.”

“There are other ways to have fun, you know.” Swatting his empty insult away, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “We just can’t get caught.”

“Attagirl, now you’re speakin’ my language.”

“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”

Between the two of them, Floyd actually proves his worth—more so than Jade. He must be on top of his game today, you realize as he points out various numbering systems and abbreviations, casually correcting you when it’s necessary. You wonder how he can remember all of this, but when he puts his mind to a task he can accomplish anything. You’re content to listen and follow along, striving for perfection even though you know that means nothing to Floyd.

Jade keeps his distance, tending to nearby tables when he’s not needed. He’s quiet today, more so than usual, but you don’t have any time to dissect this observation and what it means. The lunch rush is a whirlwind; students filter in with their cravings, piling into booths and tables, and soon the lounge is resembling a noisy sardine tin. The rowdy energy keeps you alert, has you flitting from table to table with a pep in your step. Every group you’ve tended to, with Floyd standing at your side as your lifeline, has shrunk away at the sight of him. He flashes them friendly grins, but to everyone else they probably look menacing.

You’re relieved he’s here. His presence gives you some special sort of invincibility against ignorant customers who may have been itching to heckle you on your first day. And no one would dare try anything with Floyd prowling so closely.

“Thank you for your order! It’ll be up shortly,” you say, offering the table a trademark customer service smile. You turn on your heel, intending to beeline for the kitchen to notify the chefs of another order, when you walk right into Floyd. “Oh, sorry! Do you need something, Floyd?”

Pinching the order slip between two nimble fingers, he tears it from the notebook and beams. “I’ll take care of this. You do the next one by yourself. Table six.” Before you can object, he pats you on the shoulder and skips off. “Countin’ on ya, Shrimpy!”

Aw. I’ll miss you, you think with a dejected pout, spinning to locate the table in question. The pout immediately twists up into a smile when you spot three familiar faces, and you hurry over to meet them.

“Hey, guys, fancy seeing you here!”

Ace, Deuce, and Grim all turn to look at you, their faces brightening considerably at your arrival.

“(Name), hey! How’s your first shift going?” Deuce asks.

“Think ya could slide us some extras free of charge?” Grim tries, patting the menu with his paw. “The Great Grim ain’t gonna say no to free eats!”

“Now that sounds good. What do ya think, (Name)? Think you could hook us up?” With a smirk, Ace leans back into the cushioned booth and pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “We won’t tell if you won’t.”

You roll your eyes, hands situated on your hips. “First of all, no, I can’t do that even if I wanted to. Secondly, if you’re just here to beg for free food, the door’s over there.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Deuce cuts in, shooting them a look. “They’re just thinking with their stomachs. We’re paying customers like everyone else, so please just treat us like that.”

Ace tuts. “You wouldn’t even do something nice for your best buds? That’s harsh, man. I thought we had something.”

“We do and it’s called friendship. But not the kind of friendship where I steal from my job just to feed you. Besides, you get tons of free snacks every time you hang out at Ramshackle. If anything, you ought to do something nice for me.”

“Can’t I just buy my way out with this award-winning smile of mine? Oh, I know! I’ll teach you a few magic tricks next time we play cards. How’s that sound for payment? Priceless, yeah?”

“Not too bad. All right, I’m in.” You reach over to bump fists with Ace, sealing the verbal deal.

“Hey, I wanna learn! If yer teachin’ my hench-human, I gotta get in on this, too!” Grim nudges Ace, attempting to squeeze past him in the booth to get between him and you.

“Oi, Grim! Sit back down!”

You laugh at the sight while Deuce looks on woefully. He turns to you next. “How’s it going with Floyd? You said you’d have a better chance to see him here, right?”

“Yeah, it’s going surprisingly well! I thought he’d want nothing to do with me at first—because I’d be just another new hire—but he’s been super helpful all day. On top of that, we’re talking more than we usually do. Oh, and he also complimented me! It’s been a great first day.” The more you ramble, the more the color on Deuce’s face drains until he’s as pallid as a ghost. “Uh, Deuce? You good?”

Even Grim and Ace have quieted their quarreling, and now they look on with an obedience that startles you. But then, in spite of his silence, you sense him. Without turning to confirm, you feel around for the ends of his scarf, take hold of both, and tug him down to your height.

“My, my. It seems I’ve been ensnared,” Jade admits, his voice light with laughter.

“It’s rude to lurk, you know,” you advise, craning your head to glare at him. “You’re scaring my honored guests.”

“Am I now?” Rather boldly, he rests his chin on your shoulder to stare down at your friends. The proximity would have been ominous to anyone else—and it certainly is to Ace, Deuce, and Grim—but for you this is nothing new. “I’ve only come to check in. You’re very hard at work making pleasant conversation.”

“It was very pleasant until a certain eel interrupted.”

“Ah, is that so? Pardon my intrusion.”

Releasing his scarf from your hold, you shrug him off. “Little late for insincerity. Anyway, shoo. I was just about to take their orders.”

“I thought I might observe. You seem quite popular with customers and it’s only your first day. I’d like to know what parts of you are so appealing.” Jade detaches himself and slides into the empty space beside you. He smiles, close-eyed and tight-lipped. “Don’t let me hinder you.”

“Ugh. All right, guys, what do you want?”

“Since when are you so buddy-buddy with Jade?” Ace asks instead, sounding genuinely curious despite his growing smirk.

He thinks he’s worked out what’s going on behind the scenes, but he doesn’t even know half of it. A relief, otherwise you’d never hear the end of his teasing. He doesn’t bother to hide it, nor does he whisper his query. If you could shrink him with pure willpower alone, stuff him in a jar, and give it a firm shake, you’d do just that.

“We are not buddy-buddy!” you hiss, clicking your pen impatiently. “Now order, or else I’m leaving your table and never coming back.”

“I dunno…” Deuce winces under the combination of Jade’s inquisitive stare and your mean glower as you wordlessly dare him to continue. “You seem like buds to me.”

“Yeah! (Name) was goin’ on and on about him this morning. Nearly made me deaf with all her loud rantin’! Since the Great Grim’s so all-knowin’ about stuff, I’d say she likes him.”

You catch the grin curling on Jade’s lips and hurry to step in front of him before he can say or do anything that’ll deepen the grave you’ve dug. His hands fall upon your shoulders, holding you still while he leers at your friends.

“Do we truly seem so close?” he asks. A trick question if you’ve ever heard one.

The three of them exchange wary looks before attempting chuckles.

“You know… Actually, I think I’m ready to order now.”

“I mean, closeness can’t really be measured physically like that, right? You kinda have no choice but to be close or…as close as coworkers can get, I guess,” Deuce adds.

“The Great Grim’s gonna be skin and bones by the time you finish yapping! Hurry up and lemme put my order in!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You stick your tongue out at them before shifting out of Jade’s grasp, penning their orders one at a time. Once everything has been recorded, you rip the slip from the notepad and pass it to Jade. He peers at it, brows raised.

“Since we’re so close, help me out and make this order.”

“Anything for Shrimpy,” he murmurs with that stupid, sly smile of his. He brushes past you as he departs for the bar.

You just love to play dangerous games, don’t you, Jade Leech? you think, hoping he trips on the way there. (He doesn’t.)

“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?” Ace asks once it’s just you. “Nothing at all?”

Your eyes narrow dubiously. “Why? You interested?”

He forces a loud scoff. “As if! Like I’d like you. You’ve probably got all sortsa cooties.”

“Oh, really? I’ll show you cooties. Come here!”

Giggling, you throw yourself into the booth and wrap your arms around Ace to smother him in friendly affection. He fights it halfheartedly, his cheeks flushed pink. Deuce and Grim sit back and enjoy the silliness with wide smirks. You’re near-wrestling with him, the both of you attempting to overpower the other with pokes and pinches. It’s when you spot Floyd emerging from the kitchen, drinks balanced on his tray, that you finally separate yourself from Ace, putting a grand end to your impossible stalemate.

“Now we’ve both got cooties.” You ruffle his hair. He attempts to return the favor, but you take a graceful step away before he can capture you.

“Yeah, yeah. Just you wait. I’ll get you back for this,” he challenges, mischief lacing each syllable. “When you least expect it! That’s an Ace Trappola guarantee!”

“You sure you’re not just gonna forget?” Deuce notes with a smirk, to which Ace glares.

“Just because you said that, I’m gonna remember it for the rest of the month!”

“Good luck,” Grim says with a snicker. “The Great Grim might be inclined to remind you if you offer him some premium tuna…”

“Come off it! Your memory’s even worse! Just look at your last test score!”

“Yours ain’t any better!”

You shake your head, thoroughly amused with their antics. “I’ll see you later, okay? Let’s hang out at Ramshackle tonight!”

Deuce nods and flashes you a kind smile—the type that smooths out all of his rough edges. “Have a good rest of your shift, (Name).”

“Make a difference, tiger,” Ace says with a wink. “Catch ya in the eve.”

“And if they got leftovers at the end of this, bring ’em home for me!”

“You can count on it, guys. And I’m not making any promises, Grim!”

And then you’re slipping into the fray before your always-hungry direbeast friend can protest, darting around the noisy hustle and bustle to get to Floyd. He’s just finished making his rounds when you meet him at the center, the both of you sharing a nod of mutual greeting. Carrying drinks of his own, Jade passes you and you don’t spare him a single glance. You’ve seen and heard enough of him for the day.

“Shrimpy’s pretty good at this,” Floyd remarks as he wraps an arm around you, putting most of his weight on you. You stand proud even though you falter with the added burden. “Didja work in a place like this back in your world?”

You gaze up at him, your face inches from his. Any closer and you could…

Your eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and then back. Floyd watches you, brows raised and body angled directly at you. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, you’re not sure.

“Yeah,” you admit in a single breath, speechless and yet filled to the brim with chatter. “I… I did.”

“Then you got nothin’ to worry about. You’re already doin’ great.”

He leans in even closer, a smile stretching across his face. You can smell his cologne, practically taste him from where you stand. The lounge and its inhabitants seem to fade away, and suddenly it’s just you and your star in a tenebrous space lit only by a single spotlight.

Any closer—mere centimeters—and you could…

Gathering your courage, you force the words out from the crannies in your heart, each one a product of this perfect moment. “Floyd, I’ve always wanted to tell you this. I… I want you to know that I’ve always loved—”

“Your work ethic,” Jade interjects, placing his hands on your and Floyd’s shoulders to separate you. He smiles, irritatingly innocent. “As it happens, table eight needs a server. Why not show off that incredible work ethic right now?”

On second thought, maybe you should shove Jade in the jar. Lock him inside for the rest of his days and turn it into a terrarium trap. The plants can thrive off of his decomposing corpse for all you care—as recompense for being an utter pain.

Floyd shrugs Jade off with a pout. “Yeah, yeah. I see ’em.”

“I’ll race you there,” you challenge before he can lose steam.

That sparks him right back into the groove, and he giggles. “If I win, you gotta tell me that thing you were tryin’ to say, okaaay? No gettin’ out of it. And if you lie, I’ll squeeze the truth outta ya.”

“And if I win, you owe me something sweet!”

“Hee-hee. Shrimpy better run fast then.”

He takes off first. You lag behind long enough to drag Jade down to your face. He tilts his head at you.

“At this rate, he’ll win.”

“Good. Then he’ll finally know how I feel about him, and someone won’t be there to interrupt like the ignorant, asshole eel he is.”

“I only wish to assist you. After all—” he lowers his voice, and the pointed beginnings of his teeth wink at you from under his curved lips— “as per Azul’s condition, kissing and confessions count as Floyd-related distractions, do they not? Are you truly willing to risk striking out on your first day?”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right.

“Shit,” you hiss, releasing him from your hold.

He straightens and struts past you, smooth as a breeze. “If you run now, you may just make it.” And then he’s walking towards your friends’ table, each of their drinks placed upon his tray.

You groan and fall into a frantic run. “Floyd, wait up!”

By some magical miracle, you manage to get to the table before he does. But that’s only because you throw yourself at it with a force so shocking and desperate that it stuns both Floyd and the students sitting there. A twinge of humiliation pricks your heart when you draw away from the table, smiling sheepishly. Floyd’s raucous laughter permeates the air, and his hand claps down on your shoulder.

“Musta been a real good secret if Shrimpy’s so determined to keep quiet about it.”

“Y-Yeah, something like that…”

Thank goodness I made it. Just what was I thinking, getting swept up in the moment? There’s no way I can confess in the middle of the lounge when it’s so busy! That would make for such a lame confession. You dig your notepad and pen from your pocket, exhaling in relief. I guess I owe Jade some thanks. He saved me from certain doom.

“I’ll figure it out eventually. Don’t hold out on me, kaaay?”

With his looming frame overshadowing you, all you can do is nod. Floyd has always had a tendency to take your breath away—either from anxiety, amazement, or admiration. And he’s so good at it, too.

“Ah. Guess I owe ya somethin’ sweet, yeah?” He digs through his pockets before withdrawing a single candy. Grinning boyishly, he leans in, presses his lips to your cheek with a wet-sounding smack, and then slides the treat into your waiting hand. “There. How’s that for sweet?”

Your face flares with heat and you grip the lollipop in a tighter fist, half-expecting it to simply vanish if you loosen your grip. “T-The sweetest…”

“Uh, can we order now?” an impatient Scarabia student asks, a scowl scrawled across his features.

His friends huff in agreement, each unwilling spectators to your and Floyd’s fluffy fawning.

Floyd’s gaze is dark, but his smile is bright—all sharp points. “Sure, sure. Tell Shrimpy your order. It’s her first day, so cut her some slack, else I’m servin’ each of ya a side of squeezin’. On the house.”

The quartet of friends stiffen and give hasty, obedient nods.

You click your pen, swimming through a sea of pure joy. The lollipop is a lucky charm in your pocket. “What can I get for you, gentlemen?”

For the rest of the day you’re in the clouds, clear-headed and weightless.

Weeks later, on your way out of the lounge, Floyd stops you. His arrival is Grim’s cue to exit, and he trots after Ace and Deuce, who are already so far ahead they’re practically pinpricks. You’re compelled to follow, if only to tell them not to wait up, but then Floyd’s hand is squeezing your shoulder, willing you to look at him.

“Floyd?”

You’re not scheduled to work tonight. In fact, you have no further business with him. Not really. Most of your conversations are held during your shifts, your bond strengthened through mutual employment. You’re not best friends, but you’re something close.

Close enough to see each other outside of work, you think before cringing inwardly. Wait. Friends and classmates do that, too. There’s nothing special about that.

“Why don’tcha stay a while? S’not too busy today.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve kinda got plans. We’re heading back to Ramshackle now if you wanna come.”

“Tempting, but nah.”

You blink at him, unsure of his angle. “Then… I’ll see you around?”

Floyd giggles, tilting his head at you in that cute, curious way. “Okaaay.”

His hand slides away and he stands with his arms folded behind his back. You take a step in the opposite direction before halting.

Floyd was the one who sought me out. Floyd…wants something from me. And we’re finally alone. Why am I trying to walk away from that? Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?

“Actually—” you start, whirling around, still unsure— “can we hang out?”

“Thought ya’d never ask.”

Floyd strides over to match your gait, grinning down at you. He seizes your hand next, spindly fingers interlocking with yours, and then he’s dragging you down the hall. As if caught up in a current, you allow yourself to be pulled.

“What about your shift?” you ask even though you don’t particularly care.

“They’ll manage. Azul’ll just make Jade do all the work.”

You furrow your brow, stumbling along after him. “That doesn’t seem very fair to Jade.”

“Shrimpy cares a lot about Jade, huh?”

“Not like that,” you say, shaking your head. “No way. Jade and I are just friends.”

“Yeah? Didn’t seem that way yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You think back on the day’s events and recall the way Jade had slipped past you while you were taking an order, his fingers grazing your arm. Of course, as any smart, sensible person would do, you wound your fist back to reciprocate tenfold, which he’d artfully dodged. Much to your disappointment. “Oh, that. That was…an attempt at a high-five.”

Floyd giggles. “Jade’s not super touchy-feely with lotsa people, but he loooves touchin’ Shrimpy.”

You force yourself to laugh, but it comes out high and brittle. “That’s… Yeah, that’s odd. I wonder why…”

Jade, you asshole eel, you haven’t been discreet at all!

Before you can even think of the many ways in which you can exact revenge the next time you see him, Floyd’s in your face.

“Sooo, what spell didja cast on him? It’s got Jade actin’ all weird.”

“Define weird…”

“He’s stayin’ up super late to cook a buncha stuff. Keeps tryin’ to get these recipes right or somethin’ like that, and he’s bringin’ those purple flowers back from the botanical garden. S’not like him to get so…not like him, y’know?”

“Oh. Um. Uh… I couldn’t begin to explain any of his behavior. Maybe he’s just going through something?”

Floyd shrugs. “Do ya like him?”

“Like is a strong word.”

“So you love him.”

“What? No. We’re just friends.”

“So you hate him? That’s cold, Shrimpy. Jade’ll be so sad…”

“I highly doubt that.” You roll your eyes, unable to place real devastation on the face of Jade Leech. For all you know, he could just mask it with his usual simper. “I don’t hate him, but I don’t love him either. I like someone else.”

“Ooh, Shrimpy’s got eyes for another guy? Wonder who it could be.” Floyd hums, folding his arms behind his head and walking onwards. You skip after him. “Maybe it’s me? Nah. S’probably someone closer than that. Like Crabby, yeah?”

Your heart stumbles in your ribs. I can’t confess. Not now. It’s not perfect. I’m not ready.

“M-My love life is none of your business.”

“Secretive about your special someone? I getcha.” He gazes at you. “Do they know?”

“About my crush? Hard to say. If he does know, he hasn’t said anything yet.”

“Maybe ya just gotta be direct with it. Rip the bandage off. That sorta thing.”

“I want to. I really do. But…” You glance at the tiled floor. “I know he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Don’t assume stuff when ya haven’t even asked the guy.”

“But I’m positive he doesn’t like me! There’s no way he’d like me. I’m…me.”

Floyd huffs as if your self-doubt offends him. “What’s there not to like about ya? You’re great in my book.”

“It’s different. Being great and being loved—it’s not the same if it’s coming from a friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Why can’tcha be great and loved at the same time? Ya don’t gotta get that sorta validation from the guy you like.”

“That’s the problem. I want him to like me! I want that from him.”

“Even if he doesn’t give it to ya, s’not the end of the world.”

Without even realizing it, the two of you have made it to his dorm room. You stare at Floyd, a frown flickering on your face.

“I know. I…know. But there’s this part of me that hopes.”

Floyd leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Why’s that?”

“Because he does these things that feel too intimate to be friendly and it seems like he might love me, too. No matter how hard I try, I can’t read his intentions. He’s so loud, but the meaning in all of that noise is quiet. It’s like… Like you’re drowning.”

Floyd stares blankly at you. It occurs to you that drowning may not be the best metaphor to use when explaining these complications to a merman who has never and will never know what such a phenomenon feels like.

“Wait. That came out weird. What am I even saying? Sorry, I sound silly. Just…forget that last part.”

“Sure, sure.” He pushes off from the wall and opens the door. “You ever think about practicin’ on anyone?”

“Like…CPR? To save someone from drowning?”

He gives you a confused look.

This is the worst. I’m not normally this dumb. If Jade was here— You stop that thought before it can form. I don’t need him to hold my hand through an interaction with Floyd. Come on, (Name). You can do this!

“Oh, you meant…” What the hell did he mean? “You’re talking about a confession, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it! You ever think about doin’ that with a friend? Maybe it’ll boost your confidence a li’l. Get ya ready for the real deal.”

“I have…never thought of that. Not once in my life. Nope. Never.”

Floyd ducks inside his room and plops down on a messy bed. You follow, admiring the very obvious divide in space. Jade’s half of the room is clinically clean—every possession organized and stowed away on shelves. Even his desk is spotless. Floyd’s half is chaos stuffed with chaos, entirely in messy disarray. When their differences are made so obvious, it’s almost amusing.

You spot heliotropes tucked away in a simple vase. Floyd wasn’t kidding. Jade really is attached to those flowers. At least they match his room.

“Then practice on me.”

“You… You’re serious?” You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his palms.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I wanna help Shrimpy.”

“Um… You don’t have to. It’ll probably sound cringe.”

“Who knows?” He hums, smirking. “You won’t until you do it.”

You weigh your options. Practicing a confession for your crush with your crush… It could be cathartic to say everything you’ve always wanted to say without the worry that often accompanies rejection. You might even feel better afterwards.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

“Really promise. Like, genuinely promise. Please?”

“I really, genuinely promise not to laugh,” he parrots, holding his hand up as if swearing an oath.

You inhale a deep breath, steel your nerves, and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Okay…”

I’ve got this. It’s just a confession. A practice confession.

“I… I like you. For the longest time, I’ve been in love with you and I’ve always wanted to tell you. But… Well, it’s impossible because I never know what to say or whether it’ll be the right thing. Maybe there is no right thing.” You risk opening your eyes and find he’s focused squarely on you. Nervously, you step towards him. “You’re amazing. The coolest guy I’ve ever met. I’m so happy when I’m around you, and when we’re not together I feel like part of me is missing. Maybe that’s kinda dramatic, but it’s the truth. You’re my star. Bright and unique and effortlessly beautiful… I could admire you forever. So… So I just want you to know that…that no matter what happens—even if you don’t feel the same—you mean everything to me, and I’ll always love you.”

Floyd is unusually quiet as he sits there, absorbing your words with a flushed face. And then he reaches to scratch the back of his neck.

You fidget on your feet. “H-How was it?”

“I’m not an expert, but I’d say that was pretty damn good,” he replies with a whistle. Your heart lifts when he beckons you over. “C’mere. There’s somethin’ on your face.”

Now your heart has crash-landed in the pits of your stomach.

“Are you serious?! Why didn’t you tell me before all of that? Aah, I probably looked so stupid!” Your panicked flailing ceases when his hands settle upon your waist, coaxing you closer. “F-Floyd?”

He drags you down to his height and leans in to peck you on the lips, and your heart jumps back up into your throat. Rather than yanking yourself out of his grasp, you merely stare at him. A few seconds later and the embarrassment catches up to you.

“W-Wait… Wait, hold on! What was that for?”

He giggles. “Now it’s all gone.”

He kissed me for real this time…

You swallow rising anxieties and place your hands on his shoulders. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

“S’long as it ain’t gonna change your mind about that other guy, go for it.”

Dummy, you think, besotted. You’re that guy.

Guided by hedonistic desire, you close the distance between the both of you in the same way you once did with Jade. As humiliating as it is to admit, he was marvelous help. If not for him, you might’ve never found yourself here, kissing after a practice confession. You’ll have to thank him later.

Floyd’s lips are soft against your own, and he smiles into the kiss with a gleeful, breathless giggle. His hands are roaming along your hips, and he flops onto his bed without forewarning. You fall with him and inadvertently straddle him, your hands situated on either side of his head. You sputter your disbelief, which is soon cut short when he drags you down to meet his mouth once more. This time it’s all heady passion, more innate instinct than anything. You kiss like you’ll never have another chance, savoring saliva and a duet of sounds made in salacity.

The both of you are left breathless in the aftermath, chests heaving. If this is a dream, you never want to wake.

Floyd smiles up at you, sandwiching your face between large, strong hands. “You gonna kiss your special someone like this?”

“Maybe,” you tease with a wink. “I wonder if he prefers soft, slow kisses or quick, hungry ones… It’s hard to say with his fluctuating moods, and there are just so many ways to kiss.”

Floyd’s smile morphs into something devious, and his hands slide to your arms. You yelp when he flips you and pins you down like you’re nothing more than a portrait on a wall. You’re about to question the sudden change in position when he hoists your legs up and around his waist. He rocks his hips once, slotting himself between your thighs in a way so sensual it has you overheating. Your breath hitches.

“Then we’d better practice all of ’em, yeah?”

You nod, your voice coming out meek. “Y-Yeah…”

“Gimme some hints. I wanna know who this guy is,” he says, removing his scarf and undone tie. His blazer and hat follow suit, abandoned in the piles of dirty laundry spread around on his side of the floor.

You’re so distracted by his methodical undressing that you almost miss his demand. “O-Oh, it’s…not important.”

“It is to me. I wanna know who I’m gonna hafta squeeze for stealin’ Shrimpy’s heart.”

“Is… Is that right?” you mumble, flinching when you spot his erection straining against his slacks.

“Shrimpy’s so cute. I just couldn’t help it,” he answers your unspoken question, each syllable an octave higher with his whimsical laughter. You watch deft hands work to slide the suspenders from his shoulders before moving to unbutton his uniform shirt. You blink and it’s already thrown over his shoulder. You drink his broad build in, brazen in your assessment of chiseled planes cut in charming chiaroscuro. “So who��s the lucky guy? Is it someone I know? Someone from Octavinelle?”

“Um… It’s definitely someone…”

“Course it is. But that ain’t givin’ me any solid clues.”

His hands crawl lower, hovering just above the zip that separates you from his boxers and, additionally, his cock.

It’s actually happening… Floyd wants to do this with me… Is this real? It’s not a dream, right?

With a scintilla of courage, you lift your gaze to his face. “It’s someone from Octavinelle.”

“You sure it ain’t Jade?”

“There are plenty of people in Octavinelle who aren’t Jade.”

“Yeah, but none of ’em are cozyin’ up to ya during work.”

“Jade does not cozy up to me.” Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, you reach to undo the first few buttons on your uniform blouse. Floyd follows your fingers like they’re a laser and he’s a cat entranced. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “He’s, like, obsessed with his fungi. I think they’re more interesting to him than me.”

Floyd barks out a laugh. “Sounds about right.”

You sit up and pull your blouse from your person. At once, you feel humiliated and it’s not because of the half-nudity. Rather, it’s because the bra you’re wearing is not pretty in the slightest. Had you known you’d be rolling around in bed with Floyd, you’d have chosen something with more lace—something that’s not nearly as bland as the one you’re currently sporting.

“Well, if it ain’t Jade, who is it?”

“Guess.”

He pouts. “Shrimpy’s not bein’ very nice, makin’ me guess. You think I got every small fry’s name memorized?”

You choke on your retort when he palms you. “I… I’ll describe him.”

“Go on. I’m listenin’.” As he says this, he undoes the button on your pants, sliding them from your legs like he’s unwrapping a gift. You’re relieved your panties are, at the very least, cuter than your bra. “Don’t let me stop ya.”

“Okay… Where do I start? He’s handsome and has an unusual sense of humor, but it’s fun because he’s genuine with it. He can be a little frightening at times, but he’s never scared me. He’s so kind and he has the oddest reasons for why he does things, but he never lies about any of it.”

“Sounds like a decent guy.”

“He’s so much more than that!”

Floyd giggles and reaches for your bra next, yanking it up to free your breasts. You feel yourself getting warmer with every second he spends staring.

“It’s not Azul, is it?”

It’s a completely reasonable guess—not funny at all—but you laugh. “No.”

Floyd huffs. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re wringin’ me out here. Who is it?”

He moves to toy with your chest, but you pull him down instead. He’s so close you’re breathing him in like he’s new perfume. “Aren’t we supposed to practice kissing? Can’t do much of that if we’re talking.”

“Guess not.”

He seals the distance then, pinning you with his body. The hand that had previously been between your thighs slithers up to squeeze your breasts. He pinches and rolls your perky nipple in an effort to elicit all kinds of explicit sounds from the depths of your throat. Floyd’s tongue flashes into your mouth and you submit without struggle, allowing your own tongue to twine around his. Your hands roam without much foresight for where they’ll inevitably end up, fingers pressing into hard lines and well-toned musculature. You settle for looping your arms around his neck as you melt into him, sighing sweetly.

When he parts, you scramble to bring him back. “Floyd—”

“‘m not goin’ anywhere,” he promises, pressing his forehead to yours. He speaks softer next, as if fearing you might shove him away and flee. “You want this, right?”

“I do. More than anything.”

“You sure it ain’t gonna mess things up with you and your special someone?”

“I…” You purse your lips.

Is now a good time? It must be. It has to be! But…

“You don’t gotta tell me. Lemme know if you change your mind. I’ll stop,” he says, burying his face between your tits. Your fingers dig into his scalp and he groans when you yank fistfuls of his hair. His breath fans across your bare skin, sending pleasant shivers through your spine all the way to your toes.

You gaze at the ceiling, heart hammering relentlessly. “Thanks.”

“Mhmmm. Don’t mention it.”

Floyd peppers your chest with kisses as if it’s an empty canvas in need of affectionate paint. One hand continues to treat your nipple as if it’s his own personal stress toy while his mouth gravitates towards your other untouched bud. It hardens with his deliberate ministrations, his tongue tracing salacious circles. You gasp when the serrated points of his teeth tease your sensitive flesh next.

“Please—” it comes out reedy and raw— “Floyd, please bite me…”

“You suuure?” he asks even though the question is more playful than serious. His fingers find your panties next, hooking around the waistband to slide them down.

“I’m so sure—very sure! Please!”

You feel his amusement reverberate through you in waves when he chuckles. He tweaks your nipple harshly, and a sharp, stuttering moan slips from your parted lips. Floyd’s mouth comes off of your other nipple with a wet pop and he licks his way up to your collarbone.

“I want Shrimpy to forget all about that other guy. Only think about me right now.”

Buoyant with bliss, you hum your acquiescence. Every part of you burns with a desire so redoubtable it could be a manifestation of its own, tangible and malleable. Shaped for sex, splayed on Floyd’s mattress, entirely in the moment. You’re at his mercy, your pulse in his maw, and it’s everything.

His bite incites primal jouissance, fierce and predatory. It’s deep enough to break skin and sting, and you respond to the pleasure-pain with a keening cry. Your fingers curl into his hair to ground yourself while blood pools to the surface. Floyd’s tongue laps at the puncture. Crimson trickles from the mark when he pulls back to observe his work, his jaw stained red.

And Great Seven does he look attractive in the most agrestal, ruddy way.

He licks his lips clean, satisfaction shimmering in those enchanting eyes of his. Now that you’re looking at them, you’ve never realized just how splendid they truly are. Gold and olive-brown cut sharp, upward-angled sockets into his skull. He’s a work of art—your Galatea brought to life.

Before you can spend any more time studying him, Floyd presses two fingers against your mouth. You open wide to receive his digits, senselessly running your tongue over them without command. He giggles at this, reaching deeper until you’re choking.

“Not nice!” you exclaim after he’s pulled his hand away, his fingers coated in your saliva.

“Hee-hee. Sorry, Shrimpy.”

Remorseless. You love him.

Your moans are hissed through grit teeth when his fingers drag along your folds, just barely slipping in to sample the warmth within. You pull Floyd in for another sloppy kiss, licking into his mouth with senseless fervor and grinding down onto his hand to chase a far-off, budding climax. Floyd’s thumb glides along your clit, pushing your hood up to reveal the pert nub beneath. He sinks his slender fingers in then, two of them pushing through gummy walls without resistance. Your eyes roll back into your head when he does this, blissful relief coursing through your bloodstream.

“Oh… Haa—fuck. Thank you.”

“So pretty,” he mumbles, lazily pumping them in and out. “You’re real pretty, you know that? My pretty Shrimpy, all mine.”

“Do you… Do you really mean that?”

“Course I do. What? You don’t think so?”

“Yes—no, I mean… I… No one’s told me that before…”

Not true, your brain interrupts, oh-so-helpfully unearthing the memory despite your attempts to stifle it. Jade did. Jade thinks so.

“They wouldn’t know pretty if she stared ’em in the face.”

“Obviously not.” Your giggle rises in pitch, sounding more like a trembling cry when he curls his fingers. “Ah!”

You banish Jade to the darkest corners of your mind, willing him and his silver-tongued flattery away. Who cares if Jade thought it first? It means the most coming from Floyd.

Floyd’s smile is fond, his eyes soft. “Obviously not,” he echoes in agreement.

He works you open like you’re a blossom preening under sunlight, his fingers plucking expertly at your strings to make you sing. You writhe beneath him, breathing hot and heavy as your stomach ties itself in knots. Floyd peppers your face with a dozen kisses before gravitating towards your neck. His teeth prick your skin in a shallow bite. The mark that’s sucked into your skin next has you hissing through grit teeth. It’s such a simple act—not nearly as pleasurable as the fingers thrust up inside you—but it still draws such a wanton moan from you.

Your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into an ocean of thoughts, imagining yourself, painted head to toe in love bites of varying severity, standing in front of a mirror to admire each one. Some could be veiled under the confidentiality of clothing, but others would be impossible to cover. Like the ones on your neck, undeniable proof of your thrilling tryst with Floyd.

“Fuck,” he hisses against your skin, needle-thin teeth catching on your shoulder. “Shrimpy’s squeezin’ my fingers suuuper tight.”

“Mm, yeah… I can’t help it. It feels—” you gasp when he presses down against your clit, those dexterous digits working you towards the bright, beautiful end— “aah… Feels so good!”

Even better now that your fantasies have finally bled into reality. You’re floating in and out of ecstasy at the perfect pace, guided by guiltless intimacy. The knots are winding themselves taut, on the verge of snapping, and you feel yourself coming undone—toes curling and lips bitten bloody while euphoria washes over you in ripples.

But then those long fingers are tugged out at once and it leaves your pussy clenching around nothing, your clit aching for attention. Tetchy and unsatisfied, your brows knitted, you lament the interruption. Your body burns and aches for proper stimulation—hungering for a release he’s so cruelly denied you.

“Fuck me. I was so close…”

“Gonna do that in a sec.”

He pulls away to shuck his pants and boxer briefs next. It’s done so fast it’s clumsy; he almost topples over in the rush. Floyd’s about to reclaim his place between your legs, but then he pauses.

“Condom,” he grumbles, a reminder more than a realization.

He leans over you to search for one amidst the junk cluttering his desk. Notwithstanding your better judgment, you grab his arm. He looks at you, and you swallow your inhibitions. Dangerous games will reward you with dangerous prizes. You know this. And yet…

“I… I wanna feel you.”

Floyd doesn’t need to be told twice. Grinning, he feels around, knocking items off in his impatience, before finally grabbing hold of a bottle of lube. He squirts a comfortable amount onto his palm and sits back to run his slick hand up his hard length. You reach down to spread yourself for his viewing pleasure, but instead he snatches your arm and flips you over onto your stomach. The change is so jarring it leaves you reeling.

“Wha—Floyd?” You crane your neck to look at him, but he pushes you back into the pillows.

“Stay there,” he says, but his voice has dropped a few decibels into something thick and husky. “Shrimpy trusts me, yeah?”

“I…do. But I wanted to look at you while—”

“Just trust me on this. I think you’ll like it.”

He rubs his palm against your flank, and you’re horrified by how easily you submit—that that’s all it takes to wheedle you into absolute obedience. With the blood rushing in your ears and your body vibrating with nervous excitement, you prop yourself on your hands and knees.

“Lemme know if it’s too much.”

“It’s okay. I can take it. Please… I’ve wanted this for so long, Floyd.”

“I can tell,” he teases, stuffing two fingers inside to open you up. The slick squelch that follows is obscene in the best way. “Shrimpy’s drownin’ my fingers. S’like an ocean.”

You bury your face in the sheets, flustered. “S-Sorry…”

“Nothin’ wrong with it. I’ve been wantin’ ya, too.” To prove this point, he seizes your hips and tugs you towards his waiting cock. It throbs against your bare cunt, and it’s so much more lewd without a rubber preventing you from feeling every prominent vein and thick inch. “I’ve always wanted you, but you never saw me.”

“You have? Do you really mean that or—”

Your question is promptly punched out of you when the fleshy head of his cock prods at your pussy, gradually pushing through rings of muscle. Inches are swallowed in slow seconds, and you suck in a sharp breath as his girth fills you. Floyd seems just as affected by the sheer bliss provided by your joined bodies, grunting behind you while your velvety heat wraps snugly around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips. Much like the stretch, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as you imagined it might. It’s only awkward for the first few seconds, in which you and Floyd are both adjusting to every addictive sensation all at once.

“All good?”

You hum your approval, your head spinning. He’s inside me… And it’s not a dream.

“W-What about you?”

“Never been better,” he answers with a delirious cackle. “S’nice and soft inside. Cozy.”

He moves casually, experimental for all of one minute, before he draws back and snaps forwards. You’re pressed into the mattress when he bottoms out, the breath knocked out of your lungs in one fell swoop. Shakily, you force yourself back onto your arms. You don’t stay upright for very long, though, because the pace he adopts is brutal and unabating. As if he’s waited forever for this moment. As if you might never come back if he doesn’t pound you into the bed right now.

As if the world beyond his room is crumbling to pieces and this will be the only time either of you will ever have to love one another in solitude before horrible, heart-wrenching destruction.

A confession is so far from your mind with every sinful slap of skin on skin, and any coherent words you may have hoped to produce are replaced with loud love cries. When you fantasized about rolling around in bed with Floyd, you often imagined something soft and slow—a passionate build-up to inevitable climax. But this is nothing like that. This is raw and filthy and fast. And it’s so much better than the delusional masquerade you entertained with the phony Floyd.

Why did I ever rely on Jade in the first place? you think absently, clutching the sheets in curled fists. Floyd continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon, hunched over you as if you’re a prisoner groveling for mercy and he’s your beloved executioner.

Only rather than clean, cutthroat slaughter, you’re granted love in loads. It’s physical and sweaty and sticky. It has tears brimming your lash line and blurring your vision each time he hits all the right spots. It takes all of the complicated feelings you experienced while navigating an impossible situationship with Jade and dissolves them into nothing. Because with Jade it was wrong. It was a foolish, fickle farce. One too many meaningless trysts. A dangerous game spiraling out of control.

But with Floyd it’s right. Your world, once so off-kilter, corrects itself when he pins you down with his body, warm and toned and rough, and spears you with his cock. He’s your sweet Floyd, capriciousness and all, perfect in a way you just can’t explain.

And so you surrender to rising euphoria, strung along like fresh linens billowing in a breeze.

Amidst your own moans, Floyd’s groans, and the noisy plap of his hips against your soft ass, you make a mental note to end your arrangement with Jade at your earliest convenience. After all, you don’t need the fake when you have the real one.

I’ll miss his cooking, though.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Shrimpy?”

“No one in particul—aah!”

Floyd pinches your thigh good-naturedly. “No one at all?” His hand sweeps across your stomach next, palming the area as if he’s trying to feel himself buried in your guts. “You thinkin’ about that guy you like?”

“What if I was?”

“A damn shame for him,” he says, his hips stuttering to a halt. His hands make their rounds along your body, touring every inch of your nudity. You can’t see his face, but you can feel his searing gaze. “That guy’s not inside ya, is he?”

“Not physically, no.”

“What? Is he livin’ rent-free in Shrimpy’s head or somethin’?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Tell him to get lost. I wanna live up there.”

You giggle. “Will you pay rent?”

“Course I will.” He resumes his pace after a moment, albeit at a lazy, back-and-forth drag. You whine like a whore in heat, craving more than a slow, steady filling. “Bet that other guy isn’t even all that. Not a good rent-payer like me. Suuuper irresponsible and stuff. Late on his payments, y’know?”

“Mm, he’s perfect. Everything and more,” you mumble, your thoughts scrambled like eggs. It’s Jade you picture with your next admission even though you mean to describe Floyd. “He’s actually so charming once you—ooh—get to—haa—get to know him… He annoys me, but I don’t mind it.”

“Yeah?”

He grips your hips tighter, lifts your ass higher, and drives home in one rough thrust. His hold on you prevents you from crumpling, his fingers digging deep and leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake. Your lashes flutter, eyes on the verge of rolling back into your skull.

“Mhm…”

“Hee-hee. Shrimpy’s so cute, falling apart on my dick… Bet that guy can’t do all of this.”

“Not at all! He can’t compare to you.”

Even though you don’t intend to, you envision Jade’s rictus grin then—the one he’d given you that night in the lounge kitchen when you challenged him to a dance. He’s so strange, but it’s a fun sort of strange. A strange that keeps you on edge, teetering on a precarious peak. He’s a deep-sea predator beneath that human veneer, cunning and crafty in spades, and he kissed you like he was in love that night.

It’s not love. It’s purely convenience, you remind yourself, stern. You like Floyd, and Jade isn’t Floyd.

“Jade—” you start to say, only to save yourself at the last minute— “Is… Mm—aah… Is Jade gonna be back soon?”

“Nah. S’just me and Shrimpy today.”

Shame sparks in your chest. What am I doing, calling out for Jade when Floyd’s here? I must be going crazy. I need to break it off as soon as possible.

You’ve been infatuated with Floyd for over a year now. One year of loyally loving Floyd. Not Jade. It’s never been and will never be Jade.

Chasing those conflictions away, you crawl out of your head to focus on the present. You push back against Floyd’s hips with bolstered determination, boring down on his dick to meet each of his wild thrusts. Within minutes, he’s all you can think of, flooding your brain like a tsunami. You’ve never felt so full and whole before—so connected. Carnal lust or romantic attraction aside, it doesn’t matter right now. Not when you’re swimming in bliss. Not when your emptiness has finally been filled.

All those tireless months of pining and hoping—it’s as if all of that was worth it when your wishes are granted in this very room. Even if you feel just somewhat clumsy with your movements, your body acting on its own accord, you’re relishing every second, sound, and sensation. So much so that you’re crying beneath him, overwhelmed beyond belief. Distantly, you hear him cooing at you, his voice a pleasant rumble.

You never want to come down from this seventh heaven, and you won’t because every moment spent with Floyd is utter rapture.

Floyd fucks you within an inch of unconsciousness, battering your slick, sensitive cunt like he intends to incapacitate you. The bedroom is filled with a sinful symphony of sounds, a litany of filth so loud you’re certain it can be heard down the hall. But that’s the last thing on your mind when the bundled feeling in your lower abdomen becomes unbearable, tightly wound and knotted. You strangle the sheets in shaking fists, tears falling freely.

And then, after leaning over you and getting as close as he possibly can, he wraps his hands around your neck. You startle.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?”

“Wha—no! Of course not! We’re just friends.”

“I dunno…” His fingers flex and curl inwards to apply just a little pressure. Your body stiffens, but it’s your pussy that betrays you when it clenches involuntarily. Floyd shudders against you, inhaling deeply. “You’re always smellin’ like him. Your pretty perfumes don’t do a good job coverin’ it up.”

You groan, not in the mood for this conversation. “Seriously… What is with you and smells? I’ve always smelled like me, haven’t I?”

“Can’t help it if us morays have a killer sense of smell.”

“Is it really that bothersome?”

“Would be if this was the sea.” He grips your throat with more force. Not enough to hurt you, but it has your heart spiking up into your mouth. “Guess on land it’s kinda like if you saw your special someone with another person and they were wearin’ the same shirt.”

You picture it then: Floyd with someone who isn’t you.

“Oh.”

“Yeaaah. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Then—” you’re cut off when his hands constrict, perilous like pythons— “Floyd—”

“Say you wanna smell like me instead. I’ll make you smell real nice.”

His phrasing doesn’t indicate there’s a choice in this matter, but you don’t need to waste time deliberating. Even though you don’t intend to stall, you can’t stop yourself. The question that’s been nagging at you ever since Jade shared insight on the matter—it tumbles free.

“What does smell mean to a moray? Is it—it’s like a tracker, right?”

“You’re halfway there, yeah.” His hips connect with your cushy ass, and his grip cuts into your airflow. The muscles in your neck twitch beneath his fingertips, survival instincts seizing hold. Your breath rattles in your lungs. “S’like makin’ it known. Like tellin’ everyone you’re together. Becomin’ a pair’s real special in the sea.”

A pair…

You want to ask about the significance in that statement—about the implications of togetherness and how that might apply to merfolk. Jade gave you glimpses during previous conversations, and ever since you’ve been wrangling with wanting to know more or keeping your curiosity to yourself. You could ask him, but you’re very acquainted with his smart mouth and his proclivity for stirring up unnecessary trouble. It’s better to hear it from Floyd.

But right now breathing is imperative.

“I want—need you… P-Please,” you rasp, blinking back tears.

It doesn’t hurt, but the pressure fills your head with fuzz. Combined with the agonizing drag of his dick within your walls, it feels almost freeing. Like he’s just pulled you out of your own mind to rejoice in the present with you.

“Promise you’ll be mine. Promise…” His voice wavers, and suddenly he sounds distraught. Fragile like an eroding sandcastle, he adds, “Promise you won’t look at him ever again…”

“I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

His hands linger for a moment longer before he releases you, content with your agreement. You inhale mouthfuls of precious, much-needed oxygen, but part of you misses the rough treatment and the feeling of his hands tightening around your throat. The idea that Floyd once held your life between his palms—that he could crush your windpipe if he so pleased—is monstrously minacious. You know you shouldn’t put your trust in Floyd’s capricious, hair-trigger behaviors, but you’ve already disregarded the risks. Safe sex be damned; you want to know love under the pressure of his thumbs, squeezed into you like he’s your only other source of air. Your savior and your star—forever your Floyd.

His lips replace his hands, stamped impatiently into your nape in bloody bites. Ribbons of warmth trickle between your shoulder blades. His hips don’t halt for a second, and it stokes the fire deep within your belly with potent insistence.

“F-Floyd, please—I’m close! I—”

“I know, Shrimpy. I gotcha.” He rubs your hip encouragingly and that’s all it takes to sweep you up in the titillating throes.

You reach your summit in the clouds with an erotic shout, your vision whiting out and arms going slack. Floyd’s groan sounds much the same when your walls clench down, and he fucks you through it mercilessly. In just a few more erratic, sloppy thrusts, in which he drives his cock as far as it can possibly go, Floyd finally empties his load deep inside. The moan that rips free from his throat is so guttural it’s nearly a growl.

You’re both so drenched in sweat, but you’re alive and vibrating with giddy, sex-drunk relief.

I love you so much, you think as you ebb away from ecstasy, pulled back like the tide.

Basking in the paradisiacal afterglow of orgasm, Floyd runs a hand through disheveled teal locks. The two of you, the sodden sheets, and even the room reeks of sex. His other hand holds you in place while he slowly ruts into you from behind, riding out the buzz in its entirety. His pelvis presses against your ass while you, knock-kneed and fucked full, drool into the pillows.

And when he slides out his spend drips from your pussy in pearly rivulets.

“Haa… Shrimpy’s the best,” he murmurs with a wicked, wild, wide-eyed smile.

You’re still panting when you come back to yourself, your head pressed into the pillow. Floyd nudges you over onto your back, and you oblige with minimal effort, lying in an exhausted sprawl. Your sight clears, color spilling in through bleary cracks.

He leans over you, assessing your hazy expression with a pleased hum. “Welcome back.”

You giggle and beckon him closer. “I’m back.”

Floyd leans down to kiss you and you reciprocate just as fiercely, your arms looping around his neck. You fall all over again, enchanted by molten kisses and wandering hands. The magic dissipates when your ringtone resounds, and you manage to tear yourself away by the third chime.

“Sorry. Let me silence it.”

“Kaaay.”

Floyd lounges on his side, the duvet draped across his hips. You crawl out of his arms to sort through the disorder on the floor. As you bend over to retrieve it, you catch him staring, his eyes following the length of your legs to the mess spattered between your thighs.

He flashes his sharp teeth at you in a broad, nonchalant grin. “It’s a pretty ass. I like what I like.”

You hold your phone up, smirking. “Pictures last longer.”

“And memories don’t, so you’d better stop by often so I won’t forget.”

“It’s a promise,” you tease, glancing at the screen as it brightens with a slew of missed messages. They’re all from Ace, and you scroll through them with mild interest. Apparently, Ace got into an argument with Grim over the pudding in the fridge. Both want it even though it has your name on it, and now Ace is being much too flattering in an effort to curry favor so that you’ll be inclined to let him have it. “He’s unbelievable…”

“Who is?”

“Ace.”

You sit on the edge of Floyd’s bed. He reads the texts over your shoulder and snorts. “Crabby tryin’ to get on your good side, huh?”

“Not sure why he’s bothering to ask, though. He steals food from me all the time. This shouldn’t be any different.”

“Maybe he likes ya.”

“As if. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah? You say that a lot.”

You crane your neck to look at him. “Do I really?”

“Mhm. If you and Jade are also ‘just friends,’ what does that make me and you?”

“I… Um. Hm.”

You watch your reflection on your darkened phone screen as it twists into something pensive. Tentatively, your fingers trace over the smooth glass. What are you and Floyd? You’re friends, but you’re also more than that. Surely, right? Friends don’t join their bodies in unholy communion. Or do they? That’s what you’ve done with Jade and you’re nowhere near romantically attached. Perhaps your relationship is some nebulous stage between friends and lovers?

Does Floyd even like me like that, or was this just a spur-of-the-moment fling?

“I…should go,” you say instead, standing up.

“Aww. But ya just got here. C’mon. Lemme get ya some water or somethin’ to eat. There’s no rush.” He reaches out for you, but you step back. His face falls. “Shrimpy…”

“Sorry. I just—it’s not your fault.” You refuse to meet his eyes as you collect your clothes from the floor, hurrying to dress yourself. “Thanks for the offer. Really, I appreciate it and this was a lot of fun. But I… I need to get back to make sure Ace and Grim don’t tear each other apart over a single cup of pudding.”

The fresh bites on your neck sting when your clothes brush against them, but nothing hurts more than Floyd’s downcast expression. You don’t want to leave, but you can’t stay and tiptoe around the answer to a question you’ve just started contemplating.

“We’ll talk later. Sorry…” You shuffle towards the door, tongue-tied and awkward. “I really did enjoy this.”

To your disappointment, Floyd doesn’t make any attempt to pursue. “See ya.”

“Yeah… See ya.”

You step out into the hall, the door shutting after you. The weight of it all comes crashing down like a disastrous surge of sea and you drag your hands over your face to stifle your regretful groan.

I messed up. I should’ve just confessed. The opportunity was right there, so why didn’t I? Why can’t I? What the hell is holding me back?

No, not a what. Rather, a who.

And you can’t bear to confront that.

Behind the door, sitting upright on Floyd’s bed, Jade musses his hair until that stray dark strand falls in its rightful place. There’s laundry to be done, and a clever cover-up must be fashioned to protect what already seems like an open secret. But right now he can’t be bothered to spring into action. Not when he’s still steeping in post-sex exhilaration, a corybantic smile etching itself onto his face.

It’s a glorious day.

“Can’t ya just dump it out if ya don’t wanna drink it?” Grim, who has spent the past three minutes observing you observing the glass vial, suggests with a harrumph. “Looks fishy. I don’t wanna drink it and I love drinkin’ stuff!”

You frown and lift it towards the window; the sun catches off the shiny surface, but its rays don’t break through murky cerulean. “Azul said I could add any part of myself to this and it would work. I added saliva, but the color went from white to this icky, impenetrable blue. It probably tastes just as bad as it looks. Gross! Now I’m not so sure I wanna uphold my end of our deal.”

“He’ll never know if you give it the slip.”

You fix Grim with a disapproving glower. “He’ll definitely know. He’s Azul.”

“I dunno what to tell ya, but if we keep chattin’ away like this we’ll miss first bell.” He hops off of the stool, lands perfectly on all fours, and struts out of the kitchen.

“Since when were you such a star student? Wait… First bell?” You gasp and dash past him. “Move, Grim! I’ll miss Floyd if I don’t hurry!”

On your way out, you tug your shoes on, taking care not to trip in your haste, and stuff the vial in your pocket.

“Jeez! Way to be a ‘star student’ and leave me to haul our heavy textbooks to Trein’s class!”

“Sorry! I’ll make it up to you at lunch! This is really important!” you call out, hurrying down the steps.

You’re breathless by the time you make it into the main building, taking in great gulps of air. A few students turn and stare, but you don’t pay them any mind as you weave through the crowded halls in search of Floyd’s classroom. You spot him then, lingering at the end of the corridor, and you hasten your gait to reach him.

“Floyd, oh, there you are! I need to talk to you. It’s about—”

“A good morning to you, too, (Name).”

Horrified, you come to a screeching halt. “Jade… Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that you—I mean, you look like Floyd from afar… Well, of course you do. What am I saying?” Inhaling a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t have time to talk. I gotta find Floyd. Also, our deal’s off. You don’t have to act like him anymore.”

“Oh my. How sudden. I wonder what brought this on.” He smiles behind a gloved fist. “Do enlighten me.”

Fidgeting from foot to foot, you glance left and right. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been a big help, but I’ve figured it out now. It was stupid and inconsiderate of me to make you pretend to be someone you’re not. So the game’s over. We can go our separate ways and all of this—” you gesture between him and you— “will be behind us. Done and dusted. Dead and buried. Part of the past.”

Jade tilts his head, playing clueless for another second before he decides to let it click. “Ah. I suppose this means you intend to confess? In that case, please don’t let me stop you. Floyd’s already left for his class. I doubt he’s gone very far.”

You’re already pushing past him, your nerves riddled with hope. “Thanks! See you around!”

“It was an enjoyable month.”

Taking pause, you turn to look at him. Even though his hand is across his chest and he’s issuing you a cordial smile, you can’t tell if he’s being truthful. It can’t have been all that enjoyable to play such an elaborate part. Or perhaps it’s not the part but rather the delights that came with it: dinner, conversation, and companionship. If it weren’t for these unorthodox methods, you and Jade wouldn’t be nearly as close as you are now.

Somehow you’ve become friends in all of this chaos.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. It was definitely…a month.”

Before awkwardness can balloon between the both of you, you step into a sprint and disappear around the corner. Confidence swells within you. Now that you’ve emptied your mind of Jade, you can focus entirely on Floyd and your very impromptu confession.

There really wasn’t anything there after all, you think as you round another corner. I can’t believe I got worked up over something so silly, and it was completely nonexistent!

As if foretold by fate itself, a meeting strung in the stars, you notice Floyd at the end of the hall. Unable to contain yourself, you run the rest of the way to catch him. The morning bell resounds then and students heed its toll, filing into their respective classrooms. But you’re here for someone who’s so much better than your perfect attendance record, and he happens to be looking your way.

“Hey, it’s Shrimpy! Whatcha up to?”

“Morning, Floyd! Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”

He nods. “Wasn’t really feelin’ class anyways.”

“Yeah, same here!”

“So what’s up? You have somethin’ to tell me?”

“Right! Yes!”

I have to tell him. I can’t keep running away.

“It’s about that day… Um. I… First of all, I’d like to apologize for being weird and ruining the mood. I didn’t know how to explain our relationship, but I’ve sorted it out now. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be more than friends.”

Floyd blinks at you, stone-faced. That can’t be a good sign.

Endeavoring to salvage this one-sided chat, you attempt to elaborate on your previous declaration. “You asked what we were that day and I… I couldn’t give you an answer because I was scared of admitting it, and I had no idea where we’d go from there. The truth is—I really like you. A lot. I have for a while now, and if you like me I wouldn’t mind making it official.”

You’re doing fine, you tell yourself, but you’re wringing your hands and Floyd won’t stop looking at you like you’ve grown fins.

“Oh, I get it,” he says after a long moment. “So Shrimpy likes me? That right?”

You nod. Anxiety squeezes your heart in a fierce fist.

“I’m flattered. Not every day a li’l Shrimpy tells me she’s got a thing for me.” Floyd grins and stuffs his hands in his pockets. You’ve imagined this same scenario a dozen times, but your brain never accounted for how casual he’s acting. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your feelings.”

“W-What?”

You…misheard him, right? He didn’t just say that, did he?

“I think you’re super cool, but that’s it.” He shrugs. “S’better stayin’ friends, ain’t it? ’Sides, you and Jade are pretty close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were a pair this whole time. Didn’t know it was this serious, though.”

Much like the blood pumping through your veins, your heart freezes over. “N-No… No, not at all! Jade and I are just friends.”

“C’mon, Shrimpy. I’m not stupid.”

“I… I don’t understand. Floyd, we… We…” You swallow encroaching tears and bolster the ebbing strength in your voice. “Did our time together mean anything to you?”

“Course it did! Still does. We’re friends. That’s not gonna change.” Floyd cards a hand through his hair and sighs. “Shrimpy, you’re great and all, but if you’re with Jade you don’t gotta lie to me. I’ve been smellin’ him on ya since day one.”

“But we’re not together!” He raises a disbelieving brow, and you groan. “I’m serious. I don’t know why I smell like him. We don’t wear the same perfumes. Wait. Does Jade even wear perfume? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about it. So maybe you’re just smelling my perfume! That has to be the reason—”

Floyd gives your shoulder a consoling squeeze. “I’m not mad or anything. S’cool if you wanna mess around with Jade. I don’t care what you do.” His face darkens with a frown. “Just don’t lie about the obvious.”

“But I’m not lying! We’re not an item or couple—whatever it’s called! I… I like you, Floyd. I always have.”

“Maybe ya shoulda figured that out before ya started lettin’ Jade mark ya.”

Shock and revulsion prickle your skin. You open your mouth to object, but every rational explanation remains jumbled. Floyd issues you a lopsided grin, which adds even more salt to an already gaping wound.

“Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, Jade’s a good guy. He’ll look out for ya. ’Sides, Shrimpy’s better off with a responsible type.” He reaches out to ruffle your hair, but you step away.

All of those times where you thought Floyd may have been courting—the flirty remarks, the perfume, the kiss, and even the sex—were those merely platonic gestures twined with friendly affection? You may have been able to believe the others, but you’re certain there’s a line between platonic and romantic. And sex must fall in the latter category. It has to. If not, was it all just temporary, fleeting fun?

Were you just an experience for Floyd and his mercurial mannerisms? A new toy for his enjoyment, intended to occupy his mind for however long you proved your worth and shelf life.

You turn swiftly on your heel, your throat closing up. “T-Thanks for hearing me out, at least,” you mutter, blinking away hot tears. “I… I’ll see you later.”

If you weren’t so devastated, you’d have commended yourself for your impeccable restraint. You manage to walk away without sparing him a single glance, but the minute you’re out of sight and earshot you’re running through the desolate halls, seeking solace in solitude. The tears come with the ache, a pain so gutting it has you near-wailing as you navigate labyrinthe passages. You hardly care if any straggling students spot you. You’re too crestfallen to fret over what others might think when they look at you.

Heartache headlines your thoughts as you stumble into a stagger, your chest heaving from the run and your excessive bawling.

I know it was stupid to have hope, but I was so positive I had a chance… It seemed that way when we slept together, so what happened? What changed? You wipe furiously at your face, but it does nothing to stop the incessant downpour. This is a mess. I never should’ve confessed. I did everything wrong. And what’s worse is he didn’t take me seriously because he thinks I’m dating his brother!

It doesn’t make any sense, but then this drastic change of heart is so characteristic for Floyd that you struggle to think of any other valid causation.

Did he get bored of me? Am I really that terrible to hang out with? You shake your head. It’s not that. It’s Jade and his stupid scent and that stupid marking and—

You feel the vial in your pocket then, straining against form-fitting fabric. Sniffling weakly, you dig it out and peer at your blotchy-eyed reflection in the glass.

I might as well see what this potion does. I have nothing else to lose, and there’s no way I can go to class looking like this.

As if your body was subconsciously aware of your decision to skip, you find yourself standing in the Mirror Chamber minutes later. Quiet and dimly lit, the room has a certain coldness to it when you venture further inside and approach the Dark Mirror. Your distressed face blinks back at you from the blank surface, and you cringe once you notice the smudges in your makeup.

“I’m such a loser,” you mutter, scrubbing at your cheeks. “Crying like a baby over some guy…”

A guy who meant the world to me. A guy who was so much more than just some guy.

You yank the cork out of the vial and, steeling yourself, chug it in one determined gulp. It goes down bitter, tainting your tongue with a foul, brackish aftertaste. Disgusted, you wipe your lips and stuff the empty glass in your pocket.

“(Name)?”

You whirl, half-expecting to find Floyd waiting to accept you with open arms. Instead, Jade stands in the doorway. His brows are knit in concern. Authentic concern, you realize. Tears overflow at the sight of him, tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks.

“I do hope I’m not intruding.”

“You are. Go away.”

Undeterred, Jade covers the distance to reach you. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be in dire need of a friend.”

You force out a sardonic laugh. “Right. Because you’re just the friend I want.”

“At the very least, may I offer my condolences? I can only assume the worst after seeing the state you’re in.”

“You just did. Now leave. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially not you.” But he isn’t offended by the hostility in your voice. Rather, he procures a handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to you. Heaving a defeated groan, you snatch it and blow your nose into the soft linen. “I don’t suppose you want something in return for your kindness?”

“Not at all. If anything, I merely wish to see your happy, dry face.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll feel much better once you get lost.”

“And leave you to mourn all by your lonesome? I couldn’t possibly.”

You dab at your eyes with the sodden, snotty handkerchief. “It’s not funny.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Jade smiles and bumps hips with you. “If it’s worth anything, there is so mush-room in my heart for you.”

Your face scrunches with odium. “Ew… That’s so cheesy.” You’re reminded of Floyd when you look at him, and it fills you with another bout of anguish. Why can’t he be Floyd? You bury your face in your hands and sob. “This is the worst! I wanna disappear. Drown in the Coral Sea and get lost forever. Then no one would ever have to see me like this and I’ll never have to face Floyd again.”

“Surely you don’t mean that.”

“I do. Now leave me be. I wanna wallow in peace.” When you fail to hear his shoes clicking against tile, you peek at him through the cracks in your fingers. “It’s hopeless, Jade. Floyd doesn’t feel the same. There’s still no way for me to go home. And now I don’t even know if Azul’s potion is going to work, which means I’ll be breaching our contract!”

“Quite the series of unfortunate events, no?”

“So please just go away.”

Sighing, you press your fingertips to the Dark Mirror’s warped surface and admire the ripples spreading outward from where your palm rests. It’s almost hypnotic, drawing you in with its alluring opacity. You lean closer to inspect the cloudy mirage, placing both hands against it, but that proves to be a grave mistake. Tugged in by some invisible force, you stumble and fall through. You don’t have time to scramble to safety, for there’s a blinding flash of light and then you’re engulfed in smothering silence.

You feel it first—the weightless cradling of waves—and when you open your eyes a stunning seascape greets you. The sandy floor and colorful coral reefs extend in endless stretches. Schools of fish pass overhead in a mosaic of hues. You gape at your mystical surroundings, realize you’re underwater right as the awe settles in, and hurry to swim to the surface. But when you try to kick your legs out, a tail moves instead, sloppily propelling you upwards. You somersault and flail like you’re falling, but you aren’t drowning. In fact, you can breathe.

Whoa. This is so strange. How exactly do I swim?

It takes an awkward minute for you to get a hold of your bearings, but once you do you take stock of your newfound mer anatomy. Your hands are webbed, fingers curling into sleek, sharp claws, and fins protrude from your arms and back. They flutter like fine skirts in the current. Your tail is just as fetching; speckled with red and pink shades, it matches the coloration found on your other fins.

“So that’s what Azul’s potion does,” you mutter, flexing your tail. “Amazing…”

You feel along your body for scales and gills, yelping when your fingers brush over the latter. They’re soft and sensitive, shuddering in the current.

I’m a mer…

It finally sinks in, and you roll around in the sand, whooping and shouting in excitement.

“I’m a mer! How cool is that?!”

You push off from the sea floor, testing your new tail with a few clumsy strokes. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t take very long for you to learn the motions. Within minutes you’re gliding through the water like a bullet. You hug the bottom of the ocean, running your fingers through the sand as you swim expert circles around the same rock formation.

Suddenly, your broken heart doesn’t feel so cumbersome anymore. Your tears mix in pelagic waters, but after touring your vast surroundings for a while you can’t even tell if you’re still crying. While keeping up with the current, you swim past an octopus who drags itself across the sandy floor, its muddy-orange tentacles curling like snakes.

“So pretty,” you whisper, smiling sadly. “I wish Floyd was here…”

It hurts.

There’s no way to circumvent the pain without further opening the emotional lacerations left by rejection and misunderstanding. If you had smelled like yourself, would he have accepted your confession? Would the two of you be walking through the halls, holding hands and chatting like a couple? Or would it have played out the same regardless of Jade’s involvement with you?

If Floyd never loved you to begin with, that would mean all of your practice confessions and subsequent embarrassment were for naught. Maybe Jade was right and this entire thing was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.

Thanks a lot, Jade, you think, seething. Instinctively, you scrub your tears away even though there’s no point to it when you’re surrounded by water. How did I even start smelling like him in the first place? We didn’t wear the same shirt or anything like that… Ugh. Morays are so confusing.

But, gripe and whine as you might, there’s nothing you can do to change an immutable fact: Floyd does not love you.

And it really hurts.

You know the sadness will soon subside and, months later, you’ll look back on this very moment and laugh about your misfortune. Despite that, the passage of time and its healing properties don’t provide an iota of relief.

Don’t think about it anymore. You turn over on your back and float through the water. Since I’m here, I should gather the supplies Azul wanted.

You rack your brain for the list and come up empty. It’s then when you realize Azul never shared this list with you and that, had you visited him prior to your emotional tragedy, he likely would have told you.

“Damn it! Now how am I supposed to get what he wants?” you complain, thrashing your tail as if it’s your legs and you’re trying to throw a tantrum. “I could guess… Or maybe he wants a little of everything?”

You attempt to put yourself in Azul’s head, concentrating on all of the spell ingredients you’ve learned in alchemy class, but none of them seem to fit what Azul might be seeking. After all, anyone can acquire seaweed and shells and mer’s tears. Azul must be after the scarcities of the sea. What those scarcities could be, you haven’t the faintest inkling.

The sea floor slopes down, and you follow the dip towards what looks to be the yawning mouth of an underwater grotto. It certainly looks so with its massive stalactites and stalagmites, which reminds you of the crooked maw of a beast. It would have been a foreboding sight if you came down here with a limited supply of oxygen and scuba fins, but you’re a mer and nothing can startle you. Not even the depths at which you exist.

You poke your head inside the opening. Before you can investigate any further, though, a shadow passes overhead. It slips through the water like a silent assassin. You’re not unnerved when you track the length of the perimeter, looking to and fro for the mysterious figure you caught in your peripheral, but the longer you spend looking the quieter your surroundings become.

The fish scatter.

And then terror descends, only he’s a familiar one. He’d be a sight for sore eyes if he wasn’t such an eyesore.

“You’re living up to your surname.”

He smiles, teeth glinting. “My, my. Aren’t you just tickled pink?”

“Which is weird because all I see is red when I look at you.”

“Is that so? The depth at which we’re at swallows most vibrancy, and yet you remain wonderfully bright. Are you sure you’re not a fallen star?”

You fix him with a nasty glare, but it does nothing to deter him. “Seriously… Why are you here?”

He circles you, his serpentine body winding slowly. “Would you believe me if I told you I came to check on you?”

“Depends. What’s your reason for checking on me?”

“As I’m sure you know, Azul is not partial to insolvency.”

You slide past him, smacking him with your caudal fin. “Good to know I’m so cherished.”

“I wouldn’t dare let a dear friend drown. I’ve heard drowning is very miserable business for humans.”

“More miserable than a broken heart?”

He catches up to you. His size easily overtakes you in length and strength, marking him as a formidable predator. Even with your claws, you can’t compete with his pointed teeth, sleek, sturdy build, and razored fins. He’s a natural hunter, whereas you feel like more of an ornamental fish in comparison.

“Depends. Will you recover from death?”

“I’ve spent so much time with you, so I’d say it’s possible.”

“And I was ready to save you should you find yourself in peril.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s about as comforting as a blatant lie.”

A few beats pass between the both of you. You don’t try to fill the silence, too busy fawning over your aquatic surroundings to bother. Jade analyzes you with furtive glimpses.

“I’m aware our deal is void and that I’m no longer your Floyd…” He swims closer, nudging you with his shoulder. “May I be your Jade instead? You can be my grouper.”

“Your what?”

“Many mages believe transformation potions provide insight into what species you may have been if you weren’t born in your current form.”

“So you’re saying, if I was a mer like you and Floyd, I’d be a…grouper? Is that what I am?”

“A strawberry grouper, to be precise. Very fitting, is it not?”

“Would Floyd like me better if I had been born a grouper instead of a human?”

Jade laughs. You swat at him in flustered retaliation. “It has nothing to do with species.”

“It has everything to do with species,” you snap with a scowl. “Wasn’t the mermaid princess forbidden from pursuing a relationship with her human prince?”

“That’s true, yes. Although I fail to see your point, considering it worked out in the end.”

“What I’m saying is—if we were both mers, maybe it’d be easier.”

“I suppose it would be considerably easier to foster a deeper bond if you lived in the sea alongside us, but I’m afraid love doesn’t always work like that.”

“How would you know?”

Jade gazes heavenward, and for the first time you see sadness in his sharp, intelligent eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with the moon and she is forever out of my reach, so I know what it’s like to wish on something that may never happen. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if the dismal nature of my situation would change if I had been the singular star in her universe. Perhaps then she would finally see me.” He glances at you and attempts a smile. “There are galaxies of stars up there, but the star she fancies happens to shine brighter than me.”

Oh… So he does know what that feels like.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“I don’t know. I guess it just felt like the right thing to say.” Your shoulders rise in a weak shrug. “The moon is impossible, Jade. Your romance is doomed.”

“All the more reason to appreciate her.”

“Why haven’t you given up?”

Jade swims ahead, humming his contemplation. “There are astounding amounts of everything in this world. There will always be plenty of fish in the sea—just as there will always be plenty of humans on land. But there is only one of her. So even if she doesn’t look at me, even if our romance has been doomed from the start, I will never stop loving her. She’s the only one in my universe.”

“Huh… That’s a beautiful way to put it. If it’ll help, I can act like her and you could practice your confession.”

“We’ve come full circle. Perhaps a confession wouldn’t hurt… Ah. Forgive me for adding to your despondency with my own woes.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” But then you reflect on his familiar phrasing and a sneaking suspicion crawls into your head. Unwilling to confront it, you change the subject. “So what’s the real reason you’re here? To watch me struggle to collect all of these unnamed things for Azul?”

“I considered that, but it would be much too cruel of me to subject you to such ridicule.”

“You’re an asshole. Just tell me what I’m supposed to get.”

With a chuckle, Jade rattles off every item. You recognize some of them—pearls, starfish, a Great White’s tooth—but the rest are resources you’ve never even heard of.

“Noctiluca… What’s that?”

“Bioluminescent algae.”

“Oh. Are you sure we’ll be able to find all of this stuff? Some of it sounds, like, super rare.”

“It’s possible. With me as your guide—”

“You’re really going to stick around?”

“And let you swim right into the maw of a predator? I’m not monstrous.”

“You sure you’re not that predator?”

Jade swims ahead, craning his neck to eye you hungrily. His lengthy tail curls around you and squeezes playfully. “Shall I hunt you now and we can determine which of us is the true predator?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“It’s simply a hypothetical.”

“Why would we even hunt each other in the first place?” You duck down to sift through the silt for shells or, if you’re lucky, a shark’s tooth. “I thought we had something.”

“Do we?”

It’s too late for you to take that back. “We have mutualism,” you correct yourself, pulling a palm-sized pink conch from the sand.

“Some might call that friendship, (Name).”

“Friends with you? As if. You’d trade me for this shell just because it’s funny.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re worth more than one, at least.” Jade joins you on the seabed, his larger, webbed hands searching alongside yours. “Your companionship is invaluable to me.” His hand bumps yours in the sand, blackened fingertips twining with yours.

“You know… Floyd told me something.” You grip his hand tightly to prevent him from retreating. With the way he perks up, muscles stretched taut with anticipation, you don’t think he intends to flee. “He said you’re awfully touchy with me and that you’re not usually like this.”

“You provide me with the most entertaining reactions. Besides—” his voice lowers for effect— “was touch not the foundation of our deal?”

“Not anymore.” You release his hand from your hold and dart forwards. “Although I guess it was kinda pointless. All of that just to be rejected by Floyd in the end.” You round on him once he’s within your proximity, prodding his chest with a claw. “Because now he thinks I’m dating you. Apparently I smell like you. I have no idea what that could mean, but it obviously isn’t a good thing if it’s one of the reasons Floyd turned me down.”

“Plenty of mers scent their partners. It’s territorial—a means of proving to others that they’re a bonded pair. It’s also convenient when they need to locate their beloved in a crowd.”

The conch falls from your hands, floating back to its resting place on the sandy floor. Shocked, you pin him with a wide-eyed stare. “You… You’ve been…scenting me?”

He nods.

“On purpose?”

“Just for fun.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. So Jade sabotaged your chances with Floyd. Jade did. All for fun. Jade was scenting you on the sly. For fun. Fun!

Now you’re really viewing him in scarlet.

“Jade Leech, I’m going to kill you!” You lunge at him, blunt teeth bared and claws out. He opens his arms to receive you, smiling all the while. “You did that on purpose—to prevent me from getting with Floyd! What the fuck?!”

You crash into him, and the impact sends the two of you tumbling through the water in a tangle of limbs. He indulges in this one-sided snafu, albeit without the hostility you’re so clearly demonstrating. Jade wraps himself around you to hold you still while you attempt to gouge his eyes.

Soon, the scrap mellows out into a struggle for escape. You try to slip out of his constrictive grasp, but every time you think you might have attained freedom he tightens his hold on you. Eventually, with no other way out, you submit, deflating in his arms like a popped balloon.

“If you wanted a hug, you could have asked. There’s no need to be so circuitous about it.”

“The last thing I want is a hug from you! Now let go of me!” He allows you to squirm out of his coils. You swim in circles, which you now realize is the mer equivalent of pacing. “I can’t believe you. What did you have to gain from any of this? ‘Just for fun,’ my foot! You just wanted to ruin my life like the stupid, asshole eel you are!”

“I was hoping to cushion you after the inevitable.” Jade tilts his head at you, feigning sympathy. “Did you really think Floyd would have reciprocated? You heard him yourself. He considers you a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Cushion me? The only thing you did was make me smell like I rolled around in the cushions with you!” You swipe at him, but he moves away on reflex. “If Floyd sees me as a friend, why would he sleep with me?”

“So that’s why our room smelled so thickly of you.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Then don’t ask dumb questions.”

He’s the worst, you think, repeating it like a mantra. The worst. The worst. The worst.

But then he’s the only one who chases after you even when you push him away.

At that, you laugh. Jade blinks at you, startled by your sudden shift in attitude.

“This is a mess,” you bewail, shaking your head. “Out of all the people at NRC, I can’t believe you’re the one seeing me like this.”

“How many times has it been now?”

“Shut up.”

Jade chuckles. “You may find it undesirable, but to me it’s quite the charming trait. Even at your worst, tears and all, you’re still yourself. It’s what I admire most about you.” He approaches you, minding the icy vitriol in your scowl, and cups your cheek. “After all, did we not agree to be a mess together?”

You meet his mismatched stare, openly admiring his well-sculpted body and the patterns striped along his arms and tail. There isn’t an ounce of Floyd to his mannerisms. From the way he carries himself to the purr of his voice to the irritating quips he loves to spout, he’s Jade. And you wouldn’t have him any other way. He is your friend, and denial isn’t enough to convince you otherwise of this dysfunctional, disorganized friendship.

Sighing, you tear your gaze away. “We’re a mess, yeah. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with smelling like you! That’s such a dirty trick!”

“I can be dirtier if it pleases.”

“It does not please! Start counting your blessings so I can properly kick your ass!”

“I wish you luck in that endeavor,” he says, offering you a toothy grin before turning away and propelling himself towards the surface.

You watch him go, debating whether it’s worth it to pursue him. This feels like the beginning of another game, but you can’t calculate the danger level. It’s the ocean; the possibilities are just as vast.

You’re an enigma, Jade Leech. I’ll never understand you.

Leaving all thoughts of Floyd and your shattered heart on land—stowed away in the shadows of the Mirror Chamber—you accept his proposal for a chase. He doesn’t have to tell you he’s pleased when you zip after him, weaving through the tight crevices and openings in hulking rock formations. Your shadow eclipses colorful coral reefs and tall seagrass. Jade moves much smoother and quicker than you, sensing all of the twists and turns before they even come up.

Of course he’d be a natural, you think, impressed with his graceful slither. He grew up in these waters playing tag. He and Floyd have probably chased each other through places just like this one hundreds of times.

Still, you aren’t about to let your inexperience get in the way of capturing him.

Between your on-off hunt and collecting ingredients for Azul, in which Jade goads you into continuing the chase when you least expect it, time passes above. You’re not sure how far into the day you are, as your surroundings hardly change beneath the surface, but you forget all about it when you swim through a kelp forest in hopes of finding a starfish. Even with your heightened mer senses and predatory assets, you keep close to Jade as the both of you glide through strands of kelp.

“When I was an elver, I used to believe starfish were stars who fell from outer space.”

You flinch at the sound of his voice. Everything seems much louder in tranquility. “Oh. Uh. Why’s that?”

“My mother often told us that merfolk who have passed on become stars in the sky and that there are times in which those same stars yearn for the sea. But they can never hope to return naturally, for they are bound to the sky. Thus, they force themselves to fall, lose their shine when they land in the ocean, and become sea stars.”

You keep your eyes glued on the stretching forest ahead. “That’s neat. I probably would’ve believed that story if I was a mer. We tell all kinds of stories about merfolk where I’m from.”

“Is that so?”

“Merfolk don’t exist in my world, so they make for great legends.”

“A world in which merfolk are nonexistent… How fascinating.” Jade gazes at you, his hand twitching towards yours. Rather than acting on his innermost desires, he curls his hand into a fist and it hangs limply at his side. “You must have been over the moon to have met Floyd.”

“And you and Azul!” you add with a smile. “And I have you to thank for teaching me all about moray mers.”

“I’d be happy to teach you more, should you be willing to learn…”

Jade’s looking at your lips next. The both of you are so close. Just a little closer and you could…

“Hey, I think I see a starfish!” You hurry ahead before the tension can become any more magnetizing.

Do not make him your rebound, you lambaste while retrieving the star-shaped creature. If you had legs, you’d kick some sense into yourself. Just because he looks like Floyd doesn’t mean he is Floyd.

You bring the starfish back to Jade, who bottles it in a bubble and whisks it away with a flick of his wrist. You’re not sure where any of these items are going or how he’s keeping track of them, but as long as they’re gathered you aren’t going to question it. Magic works in mysterious ways, or so you’ve determined after spending a year of your life in Twisted Wonderland.

From there, you return to your place at Jade’s side, albeit with a healthier distance than before, and exit the kelp forest. You scan the vast vicinity as if you might find something unusual amidst all of this blue. It reminds you of every Floyd fantasy you’ve ever had—the ones in which you were living happily ever after in the sea. As ideal as those delusions were, you realize now that they were just as impossible as Jade’s infatuation with the moon.

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” you admit, to which Jade hums his acknowledgment. “What would I do if Crowley was able to send me home? How could I choose between my loved ones there and my loved ones here?”

“Perhaps you’ll never have to choose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Supposing the headmage is shirking his investigation… Well, that would certainly eliminate the difficulty of choice.”

You laugh. “The first magicless student to graduate from Night Raven College. What a headline.”

“Sensational news,” he adds in a dramatic tone.

“As if the illustrious NRC and the oh-so-kind Headmage couldn’t get any popular.”

Jade chuckles. “Have you thought that far ahead?”

“What? About the future?” You slide into a somersault while Jade swims above you. He stares down at you as you spin yourself dizzy. “Don’t want to. I have no idea where I’ll be after graduation or what I’ll do. It kinda scares me.”

“You’re more than welcome to lean on me should you ever require my assistance.”

“What’s that thing Azul always says? Pay the heavy toll to cross the bridge? I’d like to graduate debt-free, thank you very much.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You blink up at him, shocked by his benign declaration. After a moment of floating aimlessly on your back while he swims overheard, you giggle. “Come on. Be real, Jade. That’s impossible.”

“Is it? You’re a mermaid, are you not?”

“Yeah, but that’s temporary. Besides, a deal like that is way too mutualistic. We’d just seem like obligations to one another.”

“Must it be transactional?”

“What else would it be?”

“A friendly favor.”

“I don’t trust that… Somewhere along the line I’ll get trapped in a scam.”

“And I will rescue you.”

You roll your eyes and turn over on your stomach, propelling yourself forwards in hopes of leaving him and this conversation behind. He mirrors your slow pace, twisting himself to loop around so that you’re above and he’s below. He waves. You groan.

He just won’t quit, will he?

“Okay, let’s be hypothetical. Say I accept your help for the future. What would you want in return?”

“What indeed?”

“I doubt you’ll want a lifelong taste-tester.”

He shakes his head, soft, teal locks swaying with the motion. Bathed in dappled light, he looks breathtaking. Too good to be true. An echo of the supernal, enchanting and arresting in that weird, whimsical way you’ve grown to appreciate.

He’s so annoying.

“Then what, Jade? Stop being obtuse.”

He smiles, sharp features softening, and says, “I would like to continue being your friend.”

“That’s all?”

He nods. “That’s all.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, what do you think I might want?” He reaches for you, his hands running up your arms to tug you closer. “If I asked for your hand, would you give it?”

You float above him, not quite chest to chest yet. “Marital mutualism, huh?”

“It’s cost-effective and comes with many benefits.”

“Like?”

“You could be my taste-tester indefinitely. I would cook for you every day. All of your favorite foods, and you can share your critique.”

“You’re not selling it,” you mutter, impassive.

He pulls you within kissing distance. “You can continue to hone your techniques with me.”

You open your mouth to retort, embarrassment scraping at your throat, but a distant twinkle in the dimming depths distracts you. There’s another flash of light and then, seconds later, dozens of lights surround you. You swim out of his grasp to explore this curiosity, your confusion segueing into excitement once you spy hundreds of bright tendrils. Moon jellyfish illuminate the area, casting you and Jade in bewitching bioluminescence. You whirl to view all of them at once, your eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s amazing…” you whisper.

Jade observes you from where he lurks in the shadows below, a wistful look in his stare. It adds deceptive age to his youthful features, but you don’t notice that. Bold and brave, you venture deeper into the fray, weaving through the fantastical cluster with finesse. The jellyfish hang suspended in the gloom, and they remind you of little lanterns the further you swim. This sight is a treasured rarity—something you’d never be able to experience firsthand like this if you were viewing it through thick aquarium glass.

This view is breathtaking! I can’t believe Jade and Floyd grew up in such a wonderful place.

On any other day, the boundless sea may have terrified you if you were reading about it in a textbook or watching divers’ found footage. But right now you’re in awe of these magnificent creatures as they drift in calm currents. Your first visit in the Coral Sea had been on a strict time crunch, and you hadn’t gotten the chance to explore any further than the grounds of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. The second visit had been one of leisure, if only because you were no longer arranging gambles with Azul in an effort to free the anemones. And now you’ve returned, equipped with fins and the promise of unforgettable sights.

And Jade’s with you.

He was there for your previous times, too, his presence mostly unremarkable. While you were loving Floyd from afar, he was there. You’ve always wondered why he stayed and entertained your mischief. You’re not anyone’s dream girl; you’ve never been the first choice, and that’s a part of life you’ve made peace with.

When you’re with Jade, you’re made the first and last choice. The only choice.

“Jade, are you seeing this? It’s so pretty! You’re—” you turn and almost bump heads. He’s so close and— “glowing…”

“My, my. Is that a bona fide compliment?”

“No. I’m serious. You’re glowing!”

He’s something of an angler with his mesmerizing markings. The patterns on his body are bright with a shocking luminosity, so radiant that you lose all interest in the jellyfish. You’re transfixed by him, and it’s purely instinct when you seize his hands to inspect them. He shrinks away, diffident.

“Ah. So it would seem… Forgive me for outshining the jellyfish.”

Your brows furrow. “You’re being weird.” Releasing him, you orbit him like he’s the sun and you’re a spellbound planet. He continues to pack himself into something small. “Are you not supposed to glow?”

“This is a perfectly normal facet of moray mer behavior.”

“So then what’s up? You’re avoiding me.” It hits you then, and a wide grin cuts into your cheeks. “Are you…embarrassed?”

Jade flushes up to his fins. You didn’t think it was possible, but the intensity at which he glows increases. “I fear I may have underestimated my own biology.”

“This is new! Jade Leech acting shy? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

He forces a hollow chuckle. “I suppose it was inevitable.”

“What was?”

“This is the culmination of any mer’s attraction.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest. “Wait. Is this—does this mean you…”

“When mers wish to mate or attract a mate, they… Well, to be forthright, we glow. Floyd and I are bioluminescent by nature, but this glow is different. Ah, but that much is now apparent…”

You stare at him in all of his coruscating glory. “You want to mate with…me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, you’re serious,” you murmur, breathless. Hesitantly, you approach him. “Then can I—may I take a closer look?”

“Please do as you see fit. Body language can’t possibly get any more candid than this now, can it?”

You giggle. “Seems pretty treacherous, too.”

“To think biological imperative would be my undoing…”

Your hand splays across his bicep, tracing the luminous bands wrapped around it. He really is a magnificent merman.

One more game, you promise yourself, restraint as thin as Jade’s lukewarm lies, and we’ll never play again.

“I like it. This is the most honest you’ve ever been with me.”

“Charming, is it not?”

“Very.”

He gathers you in his arms, and you mold yourself to him like you’ve done so many times in the past. You’re taken to the seafloor next, lowered onto the sand amidst wavering seagrass while he presses his pelvis to yours. You scrabble for a handhold on his broad shoulders, arching up into him when he rocks his hips. His tail winds around yours, and he anchors himself to you at the bottom of the sea. Above you, jellyfish swarm. Bulbous and bright, they backdrop Jade like a velvety void of stars and provide enough spotlight for you to see every inch of him. Although with just how much he shines, you wouldn’t even need the jellyfish.

If anything, they just make this tryst even more quixotic than it already is.

“After this—”

You start to speak, but you’re soon silenced when he fits his lips against yours, viciously venereal. Jade’s tongue slips past your parted lips, tangling around yours in a kiss that lasts far too long. Without the need for oxygen, neither of you separates. You throw your arms around him and kiss like you’re starved. Bubbles rise from your joined mouths, produced between gasps and groans. His teeth click against yours, and after minutes of canoodling you finally manage to yank yourself away.

Jade surges forward for another kiss, but you block him with your hand. “H-Hold on…”

“Is everything all right?”

“What will we be after this?”

“What would you like to be?”

You grab his face in both hands and hold him still. Your thumbs brush the markings stamped into his cheekbones. Jade trills at your touch, gills fluttering. A tiny heartbeat thrums beneath your fingertips.

“I… I’m not sure. Is it worth it to label our—this? Whatever this is?”

“Our mess. How does that sound?” His hand covers yours, pulling it away to hold it. “An exclusive dalliance between two.”

Friends with benefits, you think, every sense delirious. Desire feels hotter and heavier than it’s ever been, a puissant swirling in your stomach. You wonder if the potion altered your brain chemistry in some way—temporarily rewired your human instincts to suit that of a mer’s. That’s way too dangerous.

“And you’ll be yourself. You’ll be Jade, right?”

“I wouldn’t be anyone else, my dearest.”

“Let’s not go too far,” you warn, laughing. “Thin ice.”

“Is ‘my dearest’ not to your liking?” He leans in to bestow a chaste kiss to your throat, nuzzling the area right at the juncture between shoulder and neck. “I find it most fitting.”

“It’s…not the worst thing someone’s called me.”

He draws away, his eyes narrowed. “Not the worst? Others call you by delightful endearments?”

“Hmm? Jealous you’re not first?”

“Quite.” A scary smile curves his lips up. “So I’ll resolve to be the first by ridding myself of those inconsequential barnacles who think it wise to stick to you.”

“Wooow. How fearsome. But I’m just kidding. No one’s called me anything like that before…”

“So I’m the first?” he asks, proudly puffing his chest out.

“Yeah, yeah. Gloat all you want.”

“Gloat I shall. It’s tremendously gratifying to be your first.” Unlike his usual smiles, this one is pure and jubilant. There are no secrets concealed within, nor does he hide his teeth. “How fortunate I am to be here with you. To have met you. To bask in you…”

His eyes flutter shut as he grinds against you with more force, and you hiss out a soft moan when his slit, sticky with slick, slides against yours. Jade sighs, digging his claws into the sand to ground himself above you, and slips into a slow, gentle pace. You study his contorting features as he rubs himself against you, his brows furrowing and mouth dropping open in a tiny ‘o’ shape.

“You’re so sensitive,” you remark, toying with his quivering gills. Your fingers dip inwards to feel the spongy filaments, and he shudders through a low whine.

“Ah, yes… Mm, I suppose…I am.” His yellow eye is alight with lust when he cracks it open to peer at you. “I confess I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You shouldn’t push it any further than you already have, for you know the dangers that accompany the truth. You shouldn’t instill false hope in Jade when he’s already so hopeful, and you definitely shouldn’t play his game when you’re very aware of what waits for you at the end.

You shouldn’t, but you do.

“I can tell. I’ve only touched you here, but you’re already unraveling.”

“Then allow me to return the favor.”

You squeal when his claws drag along your gills, his touch careful despite his intentions. When he looks at you next, it’s as if he’s readying himself to devour you. He curls his fingers like an expert and you writhe beneath him, your lips parting in muted moans. Flustered, you attempt a glare, but it falls short.

“Now we’re a rightful match.”

You giggle between gasps. “Not fair… I don’t know mer anatomy like you do!”

“Would you like an experiential lesson?”

“Is that what we’re going to call this?”

“We could…” Jade moves based on vehement instinct, his hips colliding with yours. You throw your head back when his slit brushes against yours once more. It’s soft and squishy, entirely hairless. “If it were up to me, I’d prefer something far less technical.”

“Coitus isn’t doing it for you?”

He laughs. “I want to become a pair, if only for today, and make love to you.”

“‘Make love’ sounds a little…”

Jade searches your face for the underlying meaning in unspoken words. You try to hold eye contact, but your gaze wanders to the jellyfish above. His sigh draws your attention. “I understand. Making love would imply a romance that has not yet come to fruition.”

Even now, I’m trying to run away, you realize. What am I so afraid of?

Should you yield to his wishes? Should you be impetuous and play another dangerous game? You’ve agonized over similar questions before, weighing right and wrong on your internal scale, and the answer has always remained the same: You shouldn’t, no matter how tempting it may be. Because to play these games, you must be willing to tango with trouble.

I’m the worst at making good decisions and the best at making bad decisions. I really should work on flipping those…

“Just for today,” you concede with a grumble, “we’ll become a pair.”

Whether or not you come to regret it, playing pretend has always been your and Jade’s favorite pastime. That will never change.

“My, my. Aren’t you impressionable?” he jests with a coprophagous grin.

“Just shut up and kiss me, you stupid, asshole eel.”

And he does just that, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that’s all twisting tongues. You melt alongside him like sorbet in the sun, your tails braiding as one. There’s catharsis in crawling out of your head to focus on the present, where it’s just you and Jade in this silent sea of jellyfish. You push rationality and sorrow aside, favoring carnal delights instead, and entangle yourself in another tantalizing tryst. You kiss and bite in equal measure, digging your claws into his shoulders while he marks you, just as ferociously proprietorial.

Your lips are bitten puffy in the aftermath; you taste blood in your mouth, so you lick your lips clean of the substance. You bring him down to bite into his neck, hoping to match your bite with the ones he’s previously left on you, but he stops you.

“Dangerous,” he rasps, rolling his hips until something foreign sprouts between your bodies, the tip prodding at your own slit. You gasp and arch towards him. “Our blood is—mm—it’s not safe…for consumption.”

“Really?” you ask, not believing him for a second.

“Truly. Would I lie about that?”

“Coming from you, yes, you absolutely would.”

“I’m being truthful this time.” You roll your eyes at this time, and he elaborates: “Our blood is harmful to many mammals, especially humans. The tiniest amount could kill you. Even if your teeth may not be sharp enough to pierce my skin and you’re currently a mer, I wouldn’t want to risk it.

“Thought you would.” He raises an eyebrow, so you add, “You love risk.”

“Not if said risk involves endangering you. I care about you, (Name).”

You gaze sidelong at the sprawling seafloor. “R-Right…”

“If you were to ingest even a fraction of my blood, you’d suffer dreadful muscle cramps. I’m certain you value your life to some degree, yes? A bound heart would be most painful. Besides, I’m more fond of the risk with long-term consequences. Risks you neglect to see coming are intoxicating.”

“Yeah, that sounds more like you.” You giggle and run your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, rumbling with amusement. “So what are these ‘long-term consequences’ you love so much?”

In reply, he simply smiles.

“You look so creepy!”

You give his hair a punishing tug. That thing that had been poking you earlier—it wriggles free from the slit that once confined it. Jade lifts himself off of you so that you can view it. Thick and tapered, lined with an odd set of nubs, his cock is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You react on impulse, curiously wrapping your webbed hand around it. It twitches at the contact, curling into your palm as if seeking a fleshy embrace. You startle, eyes blown wide.

Jade sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenched tight. “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s…different. A good type of different!” You stroke him and watch the unique appendage squirm. “So this is it… Interesting. I never would’ve imagined this is what it looks like. And it moves as if it’s got a mind of its own!”

“Haa… I’m pleased to have shocked you.”

“You always do. Now what other tricks do you have in store?”

“Plenty. That I can assure you.”

You wonder if you should fear the implications of the plenty he’s mentioned, but those worries are knocked out of your head when he lowers himself on top of you. His cock slides against your slit. Your heart pumps into overdrive as you anticipate it, your body burning with a new sort of itch. Jade traces two fingers along your lips before spreading them in a slow, deep thrust. You thrash and buck up towards his hand.

“Don’t drag this out… Please, Jade, I want it—”

“How badly?”

You groan. “I hate you. I’m not going to say it.”

“Then you won’t receive it.”

“Please? What happened to friendly favors?”

“That doesn’t apply here.” His smile is so serrated it could slice you. “So I’ll ask once more—how badly do you want it?”

You mumble a desultory reply.

“You’ll have to speak up, my dearest.”

“I want it more than anything.”

“More than what?”

You shoot him a scary scowl. “I’m not saying it.”

“I can wait.” For the sake of being himself, he adds a third finger. It’s not enough, and every digit rests still and shallow inside. You cry out in displeasure. “More than whom, (Name)?”

“You’re so mean! I won’t say it!”

“C’mon, Shrimpy. You can do it…” Your walls flutter around him, and he whistles and withdraws his fingers. “Attagirl. Now say it and I’ll give it to ya.”

I’m going to kill him.

You have more energy to resist, but you’re too impatient to play the long game. So you fall victim to the act just as you have in the past. “Fine! Okay! I want it more than Floyd! I want you more than him. I… I want you inside me. You, Jade. Not Floyd.” With a huff, you add, “There. I said it. Does that satisfy you?”

“Oh, very much so.”

He thumbs at your hips, adjusting himself only slightly so that the tip of his cock is kissing your slit. You pull his ear fins in admonishment.

“Asshole eel.”

“Gorgeous grouper. The prettiest lady I’ve ever seen, even in obscenity,” he murmurs, opening his mouth at you.

Comprehending the message, you gape right back.

Unlike your original body, your mer form doesn’t require much preparation. It’s an odd thing, but when your gummy walls swallow more and more of that peculiar cock as it’s eased in you begin to think you were designed for sex. This form possesses the impossible flexibility you lack as a human, your slit suited to take the monstrosity that is his member even without the foreplay. You steal glances between your joined bodies and Jade’s face as it shifts through the stages of pleasure. He almost collapses on top of you once he’s fully sheathed inside, his grip on you so tight that his claws cut into your skin. The sting is but a whisper amidst the sheer fullness settled within your stomach.

“You—” he bows his head, groaning lowly— “truly are a dream…”

You throw your head back, whining when he hits a certain spot bundled within. You’d marvel at his ability to reach those areas if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with ardor. His movements are sloppy while he pursues the proper pace, filling you like it’s second nature. All you can do is hold on to his shoulders and revel in the sensations of this new body. When his hips connect with yours, it’s as if puzzle pieces click together. As if the two of you were made for this moment and every other one that’s come before it, a perfect combination reaction. As if, rather than Floyd, it was Jade who was meant to fill the cavern in your heart all along.

A dream…

It’s not just your presence that’s comparable to a dream. It’s the situation and the scenery—the players and their motivations who make the dream come alive, even if it’s built on physical attraction and lies. You wouldn’t call yourself an actor, for an actor is able to separate themself from their role, and you wouldn’t view Jade in that way either. You can’t. Not when he’s above you, every bodily, emotional truth on full display.

You’re just yourself, as you’ve always been, and Jade is Jade. There aren’t any roles to act out here at the bottom of the sea. No need for either of you to pretend to be people you’re not. No need for the phony Floyd to play a parody of a love that will never come to florescence.

If you keep saying such heartfelt things, I’ll fall.

You pull Jade down into another hungry kiss, to which he reciprocates with the same ravenous energy. The both of you gasp into the other’s mouth, desperate to reach orgasmic bliss way up in the troposphere. It didn’t seem so in the beginning, but now, when he fucks into you like this is his last day on Earth, it feels right. You’ve never viewed Jade in rose tint. In fact, he was so insignificant in your life that you failed to comprehend his very existence. Your sight often narrowed to encapsulate Floyd, exiling everyone else to your peripheral, and he became less of Jade Leech—his own person with unique hobbies and talents—and more of Floyd’s twin—the body double who could pass as Floyd if you looked at him from the wrong angle.

But now that same Jade Leech, the one you’d thought so little of before, is making love to you beneath a blanket of jellyfish.

Winding yourself around him, you hold firm to keep him pinned on top of you. “Please don’t stop! Please keep go—oh—going,” you plead, eyes rolling back when he does just that.

“As you wish,” he manages through grunts. “I won’t stop until you’ve had your fill—until all you can think of is me.”

“If that’s the c-case—” you dig your fingers into his back— “you—haa—will have to try harder.”

“Oh? And yet you were so easily satisfied when I was Floyd,” he teases, grabbing your hips and driving himself home in deep, riotous strokes. You tamp down a bawdy moan. “Am I not enough?”

“Not that. Different… It’s different when you’re—oh!” Your weak glare is directed at the jellyfish rather than Jade when he nips at your shoulder. Bolts of pleasure shiver through you when he sinks his teeth in to suck a vicious bruise into your skin. “You’re such a cheat.”

And so annoying. Just like that time in the botanical garden.

“But you’re thinking of me, are you not?”

Your eyes snap back to his. “Not true.”

“I’m flattered.”

“W-Whatever! It’s just beginner’s luck.”

“I’d wager you’ve thought of me before.”

“Only when it’s inconvenient.” You huff, but even that sound is swiftly replaced with another filthy moan when he bites into the spot just above your breast. “Not my fault you look like Floyd.”

“I don’t think that’s the reason,” he mutters into your skin, hips stalling out into something slow and steady.

Now you’re vexed, your pleasure withering at the lack of stimulation. “What does it matter?”

“Because I love—”

You pull him away from your collarbone to silence him with a kiss. He blinks at you in the aftermath, mystified.

“I know.” Strangely, the admission doesn’t unsettle you as much as you thought it would. “Your body told me.”

Plenty of times, in fact.

“You needn’t respond,” he mumbles, cradling your cheek in a fond hold. Sadness swells in his eyes, and your mushy heart skips a beat. “I’m well aware of how deep-rooted your affections for Floyd are.”

They’re subject to change, you almost say, but it sticks in your throat. Can they change? Is that possible?

“I… I’ve always kinda known, Jade.”

“Have you now?”

“You weren’t very covert with it.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips ghost over yours in an almost-kiss. “I have no reason to hide my feelings. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

You run your fingers over his gills, engrossed in his glimmer. “Why? I thought… I mean, isn’t hiding stuff your thing?”

He heaves a shuddering sigh at your titillating touches. “Loving in silence is far too suffocating for a moray.”

“I see…”

And you do. You see it in the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, the way he speaks to you. The way he looks at you, the way he cooks for you, the way he acts around you. From the moment you shook hands on a crazy deal, you were wrapped up in love. It was never about food critique or entertainment; those were secondary to the truth. Jade agreed to help because he loves you. Jade stifled himself—snuffed all of the pieces that comprise Jade—in order to be Floyd because he loves you. Jade spent hours learning new recipes he thought you’d like because he loves you. Jade is an ever-present force in your life no matter how often you shove him to the side because he loves you.

Everything he does—everything he is right now—stems from the love he feels for you.

You’ve always loved others, your heart much too big for its own good, so it’s new to feel that same amount of love reflected tenfold. Tears spot your lash line. Jade coos at you in a musical mix of foreign syllables and sounds. Mermish, you suspect.

“‘You’re beautiful in saltwater,’” he translates. “It’s a double entendre we say here, meaning you’re beautiful when you’re under the sea and when you’re crying. It comes from the two interpretations of saltwater.”

As if you couldn’t cry harder, you do.

“S-Stupid,” you whisper through your sniffles. “How can I not think of you when you say something like that?”

Jade rests his forehead against yours, smiling sincerely. “These are my feelings. You needn’t accept them, but I would be happy if you could acknowledge them.”

“I do. I hear you.”

“Thank you.”

I should be thanking you, dummy.

He kisses you again, and unspoken words melt away into body language. Jade makes love to you like you might break at the slightest thrust, his hips molding to yours in a lazy, loving tempo. It’s comforting and calm to feel his weight on yours, a reminder that he is your beacon amidst all of this desolation and darkness. Insatiable, you and Jade wind around each other like snakes, moaning into each other’s mouths at every opportunity. You’ve never felt more weightless, so much so you’re floating. In this underwater paradise, time is nonexistent and your turbulent thoughts are carried away on the waves.

With his ministrations, the fiery ache in your belly sparks with new life. Your glutinous walls clamp down, which draws a pleasured hiss from Jade, and you breach that special, orgasmic surface with a cry. It’s soon swallowed in another greedy kiss, and all you can do is blindly pursue his tongue, your eyes squeezed shut. The throes of pleasure overtake you even as he continues to fuck you through it, unwilling to let up for even a moment.

It’s perfect—a puzzle finally pieced together.

Jade reaches his zenith shortly after you, his hips crashing against yours in one final thrust to fill you with cum. It’s unlike human sperm, thin and watery, but there’s so much of it. You consider asking for the biology lecture, but you’re so caught up in cloud nine that it’s a chore to work your heavy tongue.

Next time I’ll ask.

Jade—cool and collected Jade—flops on top of you afterwards, completely drained. His cock twitches limply inside of you, but he’s too exhausted to slide out. Not that you’re complaining. The connection is much appreciated.

“Sex is…not very messy in the sea,” you mumble, reaching to pat his head. He hums beneath your palm. “I guess it makes sense because these bodies don’t sweat.”

“Mm.”

“And there’s water everywhere, so fluids won’t last long either.”

“Mm.”

“Huh…”

“Mm.”

You run your fingers through his hair, watching in awe as the strands waver in the water. “Are you okay, Jade?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine now.” He lifts his head slightly to look at you. “My apologies. I…may have gotten lost in the moment.”

“It’s fine.” You issue him a hazy smile. “So this is what Jade’s like post-nut. Cute.”

“Please,” he murmurs, giggling deliriously. “I can assure you I’m normally much cooler. More coherent, too.”

“I never said this side of you wasn’t cool.”

“No, you did not.” His hand covers yours, squeezing faintly. “Thank you, truly, for everything.”

“Jade, I—” You hesitate, gather your words, and continue: “I want to be the one to thank you for everything. You didn’t have to put up with me for this long. You still shouldn’t have to, but you do. So… So thank you. I’m happy to have you in my life.”

“I am forever fortunate to have crossed paths with you.” His fingers curl around yours and he brings your hand up to his lips. “And I will continue to feel so for the rest of my life. There’s no need to offer your gratitude. Being here with you is more than enough.”

“Ooh, so romantic. Everything you say is so…princely. Are you secretly fairy-tale royalty?”

“Would you like to meet my father and find out?”

“Ugh. Forget I said anything. You’re so two-faced.” You tear your hand out of his clasp.

Jade chuckles. “It wouldn’t be a very long swim. My mother will adore you.”

“You’re shameless. We still have to collect the rest of the stuff for Azul.”

“He’ll live.”

“I’ll be indebted to him.”

“And then I’ll get to see you more often.” Jade pets the bloody bites littering your skin with overt adoration. “What wonderful luck, no?”

“You’re seriously the worst!”

“You don’t mean that.”

He’s right; you don’t.

You’re not perturbed by the signs, or lack thereof.

Firstly, your period is notorious for being late. Secondly, you haven’t felt a sliver of sickness ever since Jack offhandedly remarked that you smelled different. When asked to explicate, he told you in that gruff voice of his: “Sweeter. Not like your perfumes. This is a natural sweetness.”

You were wearing your favorite fragrance at the time, so when you sniffed your wrist and turned up with a noseful of Date Night you figured Jack must have mistaken the two. Surely a wolf beastman can have a faulty nose. It can’t be correct all the time, right? Even now, after listening to similar remarks from friends and acquaintances alike, you’re convinced a mistake has been made.

After all, nothing’s changed.

Today, however, it’s Azul who wrinkles his nose at you when you walk past him in the lounge. The busy atmosphere requires his presence, hence why he’s joining you on the floor. He’d be a welcome appearance, if not for his bizarre reaction.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says with another snuffle.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me I smell weird, too. That’s all I’ve been hearing lately.”

“Surely someone’s told you.” He folds his arms across his chest. “If not my distracted customers, I would hope one of your friends has clued you in by now.”

“I’m not distracting them on purpose, Azul. But, really, you ought to be happy. It’s bringing in more money. Lots of tips.” You gesture to yourself with your free hand; the other is occupied with a tray full of plates. “Aren’t I doing you a favor?”

He hums, fixing his eyes on the clustered crowd. Jade and Floyd make their rounds, as do the rest of the lounge staff. “And you’ve been feeling well? No illness or discomfort of any sort? Any unusual symptoms?”

“What does my smell have to do with any of that?”

Azul offers you a pleasant simper. “For the right price, I may be able to speculate.”

“Nice try. Like I’d fall for that.”

You pivot on your heel and head for your designated table, hips sashaying all the way. For a while you were paranoid that you smelled foul and that your perfumes couldn’t mask it, but when you asked Ace and Deuce they couldn’t pinpoint the issue either. It was then when Ace joked that your uniform seemed a size too tight, and your concerns evaporated all at once—as did Ace’s comment when you and Deuce chased him through the halls to wring an apology out of him.

Grim doesn’t agree with their assessment, but then you can never tell if he’s being serious when he grumbles about your smell or how you’re like a human furnace now. Winter is approaching; of course you’ve started to bundle up to accommodate for the chilly weather. But Grim insists this is different. Agree to disagree, you compromised and left it at that. Jade had been your last resort, who weighed in with a smile and some cryptic nonsense about ‘delightful consequences’—whatever that meant. Consulting him was a fruitless effort, as he proved to be about as much help as the rest of the school.

Azul doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you think as you serve the table of students. I’ve never felt better.

Just as you think that, though, your body chooses to ridicule you. When you step away from the table, fatigue washes over you and you stumble on unsteady legs. You brace yourself for the floor’s cruel kiss, but the impact from the collapse never comes. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you upright, and then you hear him. Your star.

“Whoa! Careful there, Shrimpy. Don’t go fallin’ on us.”

“F-Floyd!” You stare up at him from where you remain slumped in his grasp. The world spins and presents you with three Floyds. You blink them away until there’s one, and by the Great Seven is he handsome in his uniform. “Thanks for catching me…”

“Don’t mention it.” He helps you to your feet, patting you down for extra measure. “All good?”

“Yeah… Yeah, totally. Sorry. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, and the next I was so exhausted I couldn’t walk straight.”

“You get enough sleep?”

“I could do better, but I had to pull an all-nighter. Maybe I’m not eating enough? But then Ace said my uniform looked tight… Do you think I’m coming down with something? But I haven’t felt sick either. Just hungry. Seriously… What’s going on with my body?”

Floyd looks through you rather than at you, his face scrunched in contemplation. He leans closer, sniffs you once, and then pinches you through your shirt. You flinch.

“H-Hey! What was that for?”

His mouth spreads in an obnoxiously smug grin—the sort that tells you he’s worked out the solution to a mystery you’ve yet to recognize. “Just testin’ something. You’re smellin’ more like Jade these days. Mama’ll be happy knowin’ he’s got himself a li’l lady friend.”

You bristle, warming under his knowing gaze. Of course Jade’s scent is fresh on your clothes. Prior to your shift, the two of you rendezvoused for a quick round of kissing and bickering over the title for your mutualistic relations. It’s not love. It’s convenience. You fool yourself with this lie because part of you is still so hung up on Floyd. Though your affections have dimmed considerably since that day in the Coral Sea, you still catch yourself fantasizing about him and the future you could share. Although, after everything that’s happened with Jade, you’re not sure where your heart lies.

Jade is not the other half to your pair, but neither is Floyd.

But Jade is always around and he likes you; Floyd does not. And sometimes you think Jade will make it official—that he’ll confess again and you’ll echo the sentiment this time because you have nothing to lose and you’re always waltzing on the border between love and lust. You await that day with hopeful horror.

Everything has changed even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“I am not his lady friend. Not like that.”

“Sure you aren’t. And I’m not a moray.”

“I’m serious!”

“Course you are. I just don’t believe ya.”

“You—” Scowling, you move to swat at him, but the noisy growl of your stomach stops you in your tracks. “Y-You didn’t hear that!”

“Guess it’s better bein’ hungry than sick. Surprised you can even keep anything down.”

“What are you talking about? That makes no sense.”

Floyd shrugs. “Nothin’. Just sayin’ it’s damn good luck is all. These sorta things make humans suuuper sick.”

“Okay… Cool. Thanks for the input?”

Floyd snatches your fedora, indicating he’s ready for a chase and that this conversation has ended. “Hee-hee. You’ll figure it out soon.”

“Wha—hey! Get back here! I wanna know right now!”

Like a brainwashed fool, you pursue because he’s still your star—the eel you’ve idolized ever since you met him. Those feelings are impossible to squash, but it doesn’t matter. Floyd isn’t bothered, and perhaps that’s for the best. His nonchalance allows the two of you to remain friends even in the wake of your confession.

Nothing has changed between you and him.

Looking on with mounting interest, Azul pulls a very proud-looking Jade aside. “You seem pleased.”

“As a peach.”

“Am I right to assume you have a contingency plan written up?”

“And for what contingency must I plan?”

Azul scoffs at his deliberate pussyfooting. “You tell me. Your intentions evade me at present.”

“Is that so? And I thought I made them perfectly clear all those months ago.”

“You did, yes, but I fail to understand how any of this benefits you if she’s still so enamored with Floyd. Do you intend to make a marriage out of this noncommittal not-romance?”

“Azul, you jest. I’m not someone who plays for second place or consolation prizes. Of course I’ll marry (Name). She won’t have a choice.”

“You’re not even romantically involved.”

“Not by human standards.”

“No, I suppose not.” Azul watches as you, oblivious and secretly enceinte, follow Floyd to the kitchen to retrieve another set of finished orders. “A child is a commitment in more ways than one.”

“As are twins.”

He doesn’t shudder at the sight of Jade’s razored smirk, but he does raise an inquiring brow. “What makes you think that?”

“Moray eel intuition.”

“Hah. I see. (Name) won’t be very thrilled.”

“Perhaps not. But we’ll be here to help, won’t we?”

The two exchange a devious glance. Azul snickers. “Oh, but of course. I am nothing if not a compassionate, benevolent soul.”

“Your generosity parallels that of the great Sea Witch,” Jade agrees, a hand held over his heart.

“It was reckless, but I must admit I’m impressed.”

“Why, thank you. I do so enjoy playing dangerous games. The risks are profoundly metamorphic, but the rewards make it worth my while.” His two-toned eyes track your figure as you flit about the lounge with Floyd. “I’ll do whatever it takes. If I must play Floyd for the day, so be it. If I must swallow her in my shadow so that no one else dares to look for her light, so be it. These are the lengths I’m willing to go to for her. She is my everything. My dearest. My moon.” Jade glances at Azul, a manic grin darkening his features. “And rather than confine myself to the role of a single star seeking her approval, I’ll become her universe. Then there will be no need to compete with other stars, for I will be the only one she’ll ever see in this starless solar system.”

“What a frightening face… You and (Name) really are a match made in madness.”

“Aren’t we just?”

[m4iya]

Scrambling to the deadline

Kenma Kozume

Light from your laptop reflected all over your face, coating the corners of your dark room. The windows were sealed shut, though your curtains were wide open. You watched all the people having fun outside while you were stuck in here, working on an assessment. You felt like that one Squidward meme of him sadly looking outside the window of his room.

Cupping your hands in your face, you groaned. How on earth were you meant to get this done tonight? An essay that you finished half of, a reflection you hadn’t even started, a documentation of your progress… you gave up counting right there. Your fingers flickered across the mousepad, bringing you back to the task notification document. Eyes scanning the page, you began to understand why they had given the students 3 weeks to complete everything.

It was 8:00pm, the task was due at 12:00am. You never slept this early, but you felt like you could barely keep your eyes open. Each sentence you typed, the imaginary word bank filled of phrases to increase your word count shrank.

‘In order to…’, ‘According to…’, …because of the fact that…’

Maybe someone could help you out a little. Someone who was probably free right now. Opening your phone, you made a quick call.

You could hear him grumbling alongside the shuffling of his feet even before he entered your dorm room. ‘why did I even call him..’ you wondered to yourself.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and soon after, was slowly shut as he walked in already complaining. “What do you want..” He muttered, his Nintendo switch in hand, and his backpack slouched over his back. It seemed like he was already glued to it before he walked in.

“Kenma… I’m gonna fail College”

“Me too”

“You’re supposed to tell me I won’t!”

Dropping the bag onto the floor, he slides off his slippers and lazily slumps over your bed, still focused on his game. You turn back to your laptop, your back beginning to hurt you from the way you were arched.

You continued working on whatever you could, background music and clicking in the background, providing a sort of ambience.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, you rubbed your eyes and sat up each time your head dipped into a short nap. This cycle continued for a few minutes before Kenma took notice.

“Here” His voice shook you awake, immediately turning your head to face him. He was offering you a can of energy drink. You had been in such a trance that you failed to even notice him slide off the bed and open the bag he was lugging around.

“Oh.. Thank you so much” Grabbing it from his hand, the cool exterior coated your fingertips. Taking a big sip, you felt the cool drink trail down the inside of your body, finally feeling somewhat rejuvenated.

Cracking open the can he bought for himself; he sat on the foot of your bed.

“So, what’s this about?” He asked, taking a gulp. You were surprised that he seemed to have turned off his game, but he even went the extra mile to ask about your work? You explained the task you had to complete, and briefly outlined the topic, watching as a disinterested scowl formed on his face. ‘Ah, there it is’, you thought to yourself.

He seemed surprised when you told him how much you had left, as though he was wondering why you were so stressed.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all!?’”

Sliding off the foot of the bed, he stood at your side, crouching down so your desk was at eye level.

“Can I get a paper?”

“Sure..” You replied, ripping a piece of paper from your notebook as he picked up the pen which was holding your textbook open.

“What was it you said you had?” “This essay, a reflection, a documentation of my progress, and a reference list”.

“And what have you started?”

“Well, I’m about halfway through the essay. And I’ve been working on the documentation”

He wrote down a short list of what you had completed and what you needed to do.

“How long is your reflection supposed to be?” He muttered, tapping the pen on his head.

“100 words”

“And the reference list?”

“I’ll use a website to do it for me”

Falling back onto his butt, he sighed loudly. “Why are you stressing so much..? You’re practically finished..”

Once he said that, you began to actually consider the amount of work you had done, suddenly regaining some motivation to continue under the precedent that you might actually finish on time. Maybe you really were stressing too much.

Behind you, Kenma pulled his laptop out from his bag. “I’ll make the reference list for you” he offered.

“You don’t have to..” This was pretty out of character for him. You wondered why he was so eager to help out today.

“I have nothing else to do..” he muttered, hiding the fact that he had finished all his games and was currently too broke to buy anything new.

He opened up a text document, and began filling the reference list with websites he saw opened on your laptop.

The quiet warmth budding between the two of you filled the small room. You found yourself concentrating more than before, flying through paragraphs as all the words seemed to come to you in an instant. Suddenly, the sounds of others having fun outside became white noise to you; you were comfortable here, in the quiet atmosphere of your dorm room.

Resting your fingers for a brief moment, you slouched back in your chair, shutting your eyes and inhaling deeply, allowing the sound of Kenma’s typing away to fill your ears.

Sure, you were inside your small, cramped dorm room. Yes, it was a little suffocating and was starting to smell like energy drinks, and yeah, your neck was kinda hurting too. But you had him beside you, keeping you company. And he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

other works

[blackbloodteeth]

Cross the Delta

Okay so I think it's pretty well documented at this point that I'm not really a smut guy, not really my thing, but I was just so infuriated that my good friend @chickycherrycola had been struggling with posting their works to tumblr due to an issue with it not showing up in any tags, that I decided to write smut purely to spite tumblr back.

Huge thank you to Cherry for both giving me the Cherrytober 2024 prompt "Love Bites", as well as giving this a read-through because I am understandably all over the place haha. I'll probably post this fic to AO3 during the actual prompt date, for now though here's the whole thing under the read more (please go easy on me, both for stepping outside my comfort zone and also not containing that much actual smut lmao).

Rating: Mature Relationship: Soul x Maka Tags: Mild Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nudity, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Bath, Sharing a Beyond, I dunno axolotls or something Summary: Imagine if you will that it was instead Maka who had been found out to have been a witch, having one day awakened her magic and deciding to leave her life behind under the cover of night to escape an imminent trial, especially as the years of her deep partnership with Soul had begun to affect him in strange, unforeseen ways that the eyes of Order may consider too dangerous. Of course, Soul being who he is, would follow her anywhere without hesitation. Now out at the ends of the Earth on their own, there's so much he doesn't know about himself anymore, and even more so about the soul-deep connection they still share. Somehow despite being on the run, they've managed to have more time than ever to figure things out. Words: 2,838 (Full fic below!)

Sand sinks beneath his soles while the warmth of her hand soaks right through his palm. The bare light of the dregs of dawn watches them as Soul almost turns to look behind him, stopping when he meets the bright, shining green eyes of his partner, telling him that it's okay, they don't need to look back. He can envision it in his mind's eye, the city they once called home towering like its own kingdom, now shrunken in the distance they've both walked and still waiting for them to fall completely out of sight.

Maka's fingers deepen their grip between his and she gives him just the most gentle smile in the world, just for him now that it's all they have aside from the few possessions and the cloaking garments on their backs. A faint silhouette of the edges of his teeth poke out from the slight laugh he reflects from the surreal little feeling still following him, maybe them both, before she nods and takes his other hand. He then lets the flow of light consume him as she holds him in her gloves.

The narrow dark-red of Soul's glare squints back at him from the glass, fangs bared before his eyes inevitably drop back down to the marred line of stitches across his chest. Harsh bathroom light crosses through each line over his skin but does nothing against the faint red glow sitting inside all of it. He flicks the light off, seeing both his eyes and the glow of his soul pierce through the dark of the mirror, until it softens again when the switch flips back on.

A huff clenches his hand against the sink into a fist, the other gripped tightly around the little journal that he's barely opened, probably intended to stay that way while he slams the light off, stomps out, and paces in no particular direction through his side of the motel room. Intended until he pauses, stares at his eyelids towards the ceiling, and finally yanks the pen out, rushing back to the bathroom, light practically punched on, before he tears the small book open to a random page and forces everything out of his head all at once.

His shoulders tense through his teeth as the soaked fabric peels away from his skin, the careful hands of his partner stopping when he grips them, eyes unable to escape hers this time. Even from the reverberation of her wavelength, Soul can feel the fear echoing back at him, taunting him, replaying that haze of fangs and flesh he woke up screaming from over and over and over again. Until Maka actually grabs his hand back, grinding his breaths to halt as a different echo ripples through him like a fish circling around him. Breathe. Breathe. I'm here.

Slowly he lets her lift the rest of his shirt away, no longer clinging to his skin in a chill of rust and horror, just tremble in the sweat of a vivid nightmare and the apprehension of the faint red glow still beating beneath his skin. He's still shivering, still meek as a kitten when she lightly reaches for it and the heat of her fingertips traces around the embers sitting just below the surface. Maka sighs softly, much like her palm pressing against it, watching him again even before he hesitantly fits one of his hands over her fingers.

Blankets shuffle in the dark, quieting, and then shift to the side as Maka sits up. Across the room in this hotel, she can see almost clear as day the red glow coming from his heart and his eyes while he's staring directly at her, not even a wink of sleep blinking back. With a sigh, she steadily scoots off of the bed and trails the blanket around her, subdued waves of panic bundling up the tight knot of anxiety in the corner strumming silently for her to stay away, away, away.

Her hand gently leans down to tap the side of Soul's arm, sighing again when the anxious warnings only grow louder, poorly masked by a grunt trying to point her back to the bed. A huff plops Maka down right by his side, huddling up close to the cloak he swaddled himself in and making herself a nuisance that so adamantly insists she will not budge if he doesn't. In the quiet that follows, his wavelength plucks softer this time, ushering them up from the corner of the room with him clinging to her side.

Soul's chest spews out an exhale, fighting with the shower curtain before quickly turning back to Maka, her arms crossed and eyebrow raised until it wavers with a hearty chuckle despite the circumstance. He rolls his eyes, hoping the urgency of their situation tugs hard enough through their connection and screeching to a halt when she walks up close, waving it away with a return thrum of what must be done, or it won't be at all. A rough swallow immediately moves him aside as Maka goes about undoing her top, letting Soul focus on taking off his shirt to stare at the glow beneath his scar while he hears her fully undress, him likewise the same.

The water feels startling cold before it eventually warms up, falling from the showerhead in earnest once the temperature is comfortable enough for her. For him, his face feels a bit too warm. Just make it quick, that was the goal; A shared goal he agreed upon, she allowed, and they're both going through before they're on the run again. Little comforts like this were sometimes few and far between, and between him and her... well he's getting used to it. He thinks.

Soul doesn't say anything when he agrees to let her help clean his back, same with him for Maka's. The way their souls bounce back and forth feels both like a familiarity he can ease into and a distraction.

Maka chews more eagerly as the yolk starts to spill out, making Soul unable to help the smile taking over while it makes cramming his sandwich into his mouth a little tougher. There's a delight, the kind that comes from the small things in life, fluttering in his chest at the way her legs kick over the edge of the library's roof, and he has to admit that part of it's from how good this tastes since the last time he's had eggs. True to form, his hand cups under his chin as it's his yolk's turn to try and escape its tasty fate, much to the I told you so nudge he gets from her elbow.

Admittedly, for as hot as it was already this time of morning, the city below looked beautiful with the way the sun washed over it like a painting. Even better, it's the small things in their life together like the way she smiles and the food dripping from the corners of her cheeks and the shimmer in her eyes as she scoffs at how much he managed to get on his face too. It pulls him away again, though, the edges of the second set of teeth beneath his tongue and the hunger for something else even before his sandwich has run out. And true to form, he looks up to Maka again when her shoulder lightly bumps him, head tilting to meet his eyes and the wavelength he's holding back with loose fingers.

She can hear his arms slide further over his knees but not a peep more. After another deep breath of hesitation, Maka flips past the cover, starts grazing through each page of scrawled handwriting and messy doodles and repeated nightmares on loop, like a record stuck beneath its needle. Dreams and thoughts of axolotls and souls, and fires burning him up, and teeth grinning from the darkness that turn into his, and the suffocating reality as the writing gets harder to decipher as the pages continue on, sketches of sharp fangs starting to take up more space. Something in her heart feels heavy and brittle when all the little drawings she recognizes as herself are all surrounded by the deafening silence he smothered over his suffering.

Quietly, she shuts his journal. Soul hasn't moved in the slightest when she turns back to him. Doesn't even lift a glance for a moment until he hears the sniffle, guilt and something fiercely vulnerable glowing from the embers of his soul. A slow, steady breath in, and a weighted exhale out before he nods, letting Maka sit up to him, holding her arm around him as another stifled sob starts to break out. Bringing him in as close as possible when a shudder chokes out from his head leaning deeper into the crook of her neck.

A sigh as soft as silken sand brings him back to the gentle gaze of her smile, the tilt of her throat outlined by waves of her dull blonde hair, undone and flowing down to her collar, and earnest muscle of her arm, hardworking and strong even on the run. The skin of her palm feels rough beneath his thumbs, the back feeling deceptively soft for how toned it is. His breath remains steady as the scent of her flesh and blood presses ever so lightly up to his lips.

Soul's eyes close, soaking it in, wanting to memorize each note of the pulse beneath as hers, her song and life and soul literally in his hands as her wavelength waits like a gentle shore on a pleasant day in his memories. Very, very slowly, he brings his mouth over the space between her thumb and index finger, letting the sharp, sharp edges of all his teeth sit right against the skin he could easily pierce within seconds. But he doesn't. Her hand rests delicately between his jaws while his eyes steadily reunite with Maka, his partner, his greatest friend, and the absolute faith shining back at him that pricks at the corners of his sockets.

He brushes his tongue where the saliva pooled as he detaches, pausing at the thrum of contentment he either wasn't paying full attention to or had just begun to ripple from the interwoven threads of their connection. Soul then runs said tongue awkwardly over his mouth at how Maka leans to expose more of her neck, knitting her hand through his fingers, pulling them in with tugs of trust. Blowing a long breath through his mouth, almost in a whistle, he lets himself carry that feeling towards himself too, scooting up closer and closer until her breath tickles against the lulls of his smile.

Maka's fingers gently fit into the back of his hair before he reaches his head around to the side of her throat, hesitating, swallowing, then resting his lips against the pulse running through the calm and reassuring breaths of life sitting just beneath. Breath that holds as he loosens his mouth over them, fangs gaping right against the surface until he sucks in a little, a hand of his keeping steady over the other side while the scent, the trust, the strength she always gives him settles along the taste of her skin across his tongue. Dare he say he could actually feel comfortable with himself and the other set of teeth no longer a threat to her, until the way her fingertips swirl through his hair and the coarse sigh purring through her wavelength at the rough of his taste buds starts to stir up a different kind of hunger, one that... he hasn't allowed himself to think about, even before all this......

Hastily he licks away where he'd probably overstayed his welcome, however when Soul pulls away to assess her stare, a... calling? Something more gentle than a tug but more urgent than the usual prodding moves Maka's hand from around his head to slide over the warmth of his cheek, captivating all of his attention by just the simple motion of her thumb resting over the corner of his mouth, wanting to see his smile again. Leaving him in a trance when she sits back a little to slowly lie down, never pulling her gaze away even as she takes his other hand and fits it over her heart.

I'm not afraid of you. So don't be afraid of yourself.

It's just like her, so daring just to remind him that she's his partner no matter what as if he hadn't already literally followed her to the ends of the Earth. To trust himself, though...

The fingers over her heart interlock as Soul admires the way the light of their souls together paints her, maybe like an angel, but definitely like the strong, fearless person he always knows she is even if not a meister by name, even if he's still her weapon all the same; not a beast, not a demon, not any of that crap except for probably the most hopeless fool that just can't keep himself from grinning while he drapes his hair over Maka's forehead, pressing nose to nose.

I'm not afraid. And I don't want to be afraid of the way I feel about you anymore, if that's okay?

Oh he recognized the smell, alright: Meisters and weapons, at arms to hunt another witch, another monster, demon, Kishin. But he sure as hell didn't like it. Hated the way they all pointed their claws and bared their fangs at his partner, snarling at her as if they had the right to speak to her to begin with. Well he didn't have to like it, and he snarled right back – Bared his fangs, sharpened his claws, felt the burning, seething hatred ignite in his chest and stoke that glow into a full-blown beacon, coursing that pure, hot iron through the war drums of his veins just under his skin. And he let it all out.

Maka's heels remain firmly planted into the ground even as a raging burst of magic, like feathers, explodes out from Soul, the force of nature whirling around her until it quickly takes the form of a giant salamander floating above her, talons outstretched and several rows of sharp teeth hissing out at the frightened meisters who soon try to take aim at him. All too fast, the wind hurls him forward like an unyielding storm to blow them all away with just the end of his tail, giving them no time to recover from the distance gained as he flutters his feathery whiskers at Maka and swoops down to let her jump onto his mane, the gales then lifting them up to swiftly carry her away to the sky.

Onwards, under the cover of dusk, where the lingering sunset casts crimson embers throughout the fur of his slithering flight.

Pure exhaustion keeps his body sunken onto the floor of this abandoned train car, the chill starting to seep into his skin as it slowly reshapes back into the form of a person, the heavy lids of his eyes and hoarse, overworked breaths soon met by the frantic heat of fingers, her palms reaching for his chest, his face. He's okay, Maka reassures, and he believes it for as tired as he's turned now. It takes everything he has to try to sit up, and he's given everything in return with the immediate embrace that lifts him up into her arms where his ear rests against the still-racing adrenaline of her heart.

Soul likes the sound. It's okay if it goes a little slower.

A light laugh shakes him a bit, a sense of calm starting to find him again in the hum of something sweet easing up his wavelength and the stroke of fingernails running back and forth through his hair. It empowers him into sitting up on his own, even just a little, just to see her face again while the warmth of her palms holds his head upright, resting against his skin down from the glowing green eyes of an angel watching over him. No... the eyes of Maka, by no other name than the one he would and has followed to the ends of the Earth, even if they never find home.

It's... cliché, he chuckles, but it's true that... she is his home. He hopes that he's her home too. And what, did he think she would say he isn't? That all this time staring at him could possibly stop her from finally caving in and shoving her mouth onto his, which almost fully revitalizes him and invigorates him to bring his hands gripping back through her hair to pull them both further in. Now that's almost as messy as the instantaneous way Maka pushes him down (gently enough) onto the floor while they're already undoing each other's clothes, breathes fully ensconced in each other's throats until Soul quickly switches to breathing down her neck with his teeth, which she eagerly returns the favour for because while love bites, her love bites back harder.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 187 & 188

Welcome to weeks 187 & 188

A/N: Another slow reading week due to me getting back into writing. I’m trying to finish up a Bucky series so thank you for understanding.

Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 25 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Unexpectedly in Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Love or Curse - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Out - (Johnny S x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Changing Plans - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan 

Call - @nekoannie-chan

Temptation - (Andy x Reader x Ari) - @stargazingfangirl18

This Spells Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Built Differently - 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @rookthorne

Collared part 33 - @spnexploration

Collared part 34 - @spnexploration

Finding Home (1) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 3 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Reconnect - Where we left off - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Switched Sides part 3 - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Open Up - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Valentine Canine - (Ransom x Reader) - @eulalielatibule

Jacks and Sunshine - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Eternal love - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Sweet names - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Beautiful View From The Backseat - (Thor x Stark!freader) - @cockslutpadalecki

Lloyd's Valentine - @thezombieprostitute

The Best Treatment - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

No More Hiding - (Bucky x Reader) - @srgntjamesbuckybarnes

Relish - (Ransom x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Your Mark On Me - Part 5 - (Bucky x shy) - @georgiapeach30513

[wing-ed-thing]

The Aburames (Shino x Reader)

Request:

Word Count: 1.6k 

Tags/Warnings: Married Couple, Fluff, Minor Original Character, No Reader Pronouns

Notes: I’m drooling for the married team. There’s a super long note at the end with lore, way longer than I planned oops

You could usually tell when a squad captain was new, especially when you and Shino ended up on the same team. It was an oversight that you would always try to correct ahead of time, but bureaucracy didn’t always work in your favor.

“Eh? What do you mean?” Arata’s glasses had fallen crooked on his face as he stared up from his disorganized mission notes. You and Shino exchanged glances, both of you with your arms laxly crossed over your chests. 

“We can’t use our jutsu at the same time,” you said sheepishly, at a loss for what to do or how to explain the clear mistake that was made. While you hoped that you could’ve sorted the team roster out before you were standing together at the village’s gate, you supposed there was no time like the present. 

“What do you mean you can’t use your jutsu at the same time?” Arata turned his attention back to his notes in a panic. He flipped through them, even turning the whole ensemble upside down as his eyes darted across the pages. “Aburame utilizes an insect jutsu, and you use plants—”

“Carnivorous plants,” you swiftly corrected with a sigh. Arata gaped up at you, not entirely understanding the problem. You cleared your throat. “Plants that eat bugs—” Arata’s mouth formed a round shape as he studied his notes more closely. —“We’re also married, so people don’t usually put us on the same squad. You might want to refer to us by our first names.”

“Aw, jeez,” Arata huffed with a drop of his shoulders. “And here I thought I was being clever.” Your hands hovered in the air as you instinctively moved to give him a reassuring pat. You recoiled your touch at the last second. No matter how young your temporary leader was, he was still your captain.

“No worries, Captain Arata. I’m sure there’s time to switch one of us out!” You glanced at Shino, making eyes at him to signal that he should say something. He grunted, nodding to himself.

“Yes, these things happen.” He continued to nod. 

“Actually…” Arata trailed off. “There were only enough people for the minimum amount of squads this period. That’s why I put the two of you together when we made our picks because I assumed with the bugs and the plants…” He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. 

“At least he didn’t add Ōtori,” Shino muttered. You gave him a sharp nudge. 

“We’ll make due, don’t worry, Captain.” 

“Please don’t call me that…”

Arata looked as if he’d be sick any moment. 

Only when you reached your destination did the green in Arata’s face seem to fade—poor thing. You remembered leading your first squad, although you couldn’t say you were as much of a wreck as Arata. He was hard to watch. He could hardly get a word out even as he met with your clientele. You wondered if he knew all he had to say was that you were in town to do the requested work. Clearly not; he said everything but that. 

The three of you sat together on a tree branch overlooking the small trading town. Shino had sent his beetles out into the night. With their superior surveillance and tracking capabilities and nocturnal abilities, you sat back and allowed Shino’s hive to smoke out your target. 

“You guys look like you’ve done this before,” Arata remarked, staring down at the lit lights of the houses below. Ironically, it had been Arata’s order to station the beetles across the rooftops. You leaned against the tree trunk, admiring how the quint village glowed warmly in the moonlight. Stalls lined the streets, lighting up the night with pleasant lantern light. A small group of children shared an oversized confection below. 

“Unfortunately, bandits hit these villages a lot,” you mused. Shino nodded. “Lots of people come through here. Lots of trade, lots to steal. Serial thievery from one place doesn’t surprise me.”

“It’s the geography,” Shino said curtly. 

The streets below you continued to bustle with life. Even into the night, trade continued throughout the small town. Arata’s eyes widened in awe, an apparent brightness in them as he listened. 

“Ah, I see,” he hummed, standing on the branch to survey the land. “Can I ask a personal question?” You couldn’t help your slight expression of surprise, a hint of playfulness and curiosity swimming in your face as the corners of your lips tugged into a gentle grin. 

“Shoot.” You nodded. Shino hardly said a word as he stood at the end of the branch. He shoved his hands in his pockets, pretending not to listen. You were always the talker in the relationship anyway. 

“You’re married, right?” Arata glanced between you and Shino. You offered him a gentle and slow bow of your head in acknowledgment. “How do you live together if, you know, your plants eat… you know.” Your laugh was light and resounded nicely through the breeze that ruffled the treetops. 

“We make do.” You bent a knee, holding it close to your chest as you assumed a more comfortable position. “The Aburames are known for their Destruction Bug Implantation. I’m sure he could tell you more about it than I could—” You craned your neck to look past Arata at Shino, who continued to pretend he wasn’t listening. Arata followed your gaze. —“It’s a permanent summoning, I suppose. Mine is more traditional, so keeping them apart isn’t too difficult when there’s a dimensional rift.” 

“I suppose that makes sense.” Arata chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck. “I guess I just assumed you’d have a few lying around the house. I know a lot of people like to keep their summons close.”

“Sometimes I like to go back with them to tend to them in their own realm.” You held a finger up to your lips with a wink. “But you didn’t hear that from me.” Arata held his expression of awe but didn’t have time to be impressed for long.

You heard shouting below. The crowd filling the streets at various stalls parted like a crack in rock. A woman fell, pushed to the ground as a few men gave chase to a figure you couldn’t quite see. 

“Theif!” one of the men cried. They made for your direction. The thief could escape into the forest within moments at the rate the men were chasing. 

“Shino, can you grab him?” Arata barked. Shino grumbled, gritting his teeth as he labored, straining the muscles of his arms as he conducted his swarm. 

“Too bright, too many people… I won’t make it!” 

Arata called out your name.

“Your plants!” he called out, his voice sputtering as he struggled to grasp his words quickly. “While Shino’s bugs are far enough!” Despite the lapse in communication, you knew precisely what his orders were.

“I got it!” You jumped off the branch as the invisible thief grew closer. The blood you drew from your finger sailed into the air, falling with you. “Summoning Jutsu!” 

Several snapping heads shot out from the white cloud of smoke that flooded the forest's underbrush. The traps snapped as the petioles weaved around the treetrunks, following the vibrations of footsteps on the leaf litter on the ground below. Arata had stationed himself at the forest’s entrance, arms held out as he stopped the pursuing men from getting caught in the crossfire. 

You heard a sharp cry, one of our traps rising into the air in your peripheral, a pair of legs kicking against the teeth before the trap was sliced cleanly in two. You gasped in horror as the whole trap shriveled, turning crispy and brown down the petioles. The thief left into the darkness of the forest. 

With the fight over, you ran to the rhizome, taking out your tantō to cut the dead head off the rest of the plant. The other traps surrounded you, shaking. 

“Aww, poor baby,” you cooed. “That must’ve been so hard. I’m sorry.” One of the traps thrust itself into your arms, nearly knocking you to the ground. You gave it a few gentle pats. “I’ll give you attention soon, I promise.” 

The plant disappeared into another puff of smoke just as Shino’s swarm passed overhead. The beetles traveled together, covering the forest like a blanket as they blotted out the moonlight. Arata, who had been running toward you, stopped in his tracks as he watched the swarm pass.

“Are you okay?” he yelled to you.

“Yeah! I’m alright,” you sighed. He walked over to you in defeat, hands on his hips as he looked deep into the forest's darkness. 

“Well, so much for catching him.” He frowned. “Sorry about your plant.” You shrugged, glancing over your shoulder toward your husband, who trailed a short distance behind you. 

“It’ll be okay. That one’s just a big baby, really.” You walked forward into the dimness, as did Shino, much to Arata’s surprise. “It’s actually a good thing. The scent from the trap is a real good insect attractant.” You shot Shino a cheeky grin. “That’s how I trapped you, isn’t it?”

He hummed, knowing that a lack of acknowledgment would’ve spurred you on even more. You pivoted on your heel, walking backward deeper into the trees as you waved for Arata to follow. 

“C’mon, Captain Arata. This was your plan, wasn’t it?” Arata’s face wrinkled in confusion for only a second before he perked up in surprise. He ran after the two of you.

“Right! My plan!”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Fun facts about the piece if that’s something you fancy: “Arata” means fresh/new. I feel like married couple Shino and Reader would have worked out how to battle together, but I’d imagine it’s stressful for the bugs. Not to mention Reader’s plants may shut prematurely, causing the plant to use up energy. 

Reader Ōtori is also the bird user from my very first (very bad) Shino series. She has Shino in an alternate universe, I guess haha. I think aside from the Uchiha!Readers, she’s the only one I gave a last name (and a gender). Let’s keep it that way haha.

I don’t usually picture what Reader looks like, but I do on maybe 1/8 of my works. I pictured Reader to look like Pieck Finger and Arata to look something like Floch Forster or Izuku Midorya. Not that it matters who I picture. Shino is just... Shino haha. Always Wedding Era Shino though.

Also, it took me a solid 10 minutes to think of how these two abilities could possibly be compatible it was a struggle

[utilitycaster]

You know, it always frustrates me when people refuse to branch out and try new TTRPGs, stubbornly clinging to things that bring them happiness, so I wanted to provide a little recommendation you might not have considered: D&D.

You might have heard of Dungeons and Dragons, or D&D as it's frequently called, from the 2023 movie, or, if you're a little more tuned in, Stranger Things, but it's been around since the 1970s! And if you haven't given it a go, it's worth checking out.

Obviously you’d be looking for alternatives to Pathfinder given past reports from employees that they had to unionize in order to get the company to follow basic OSHA regulations and repeated accusations of underpaying both staff and freelancers. Fear not! D&D 5e is an intuitive switch - Pathfinder 1e was originally based on an earlier edition of D&D, and the cast of Critical Role actually made this same switch, so it’s been done before! You’ll find most of the same classes, a large homebrew community, and similar combat mechanics - but much more streamlined. If you’ve been rolling your eyes at the near-infinite ability check range in Pathfinder 1e, or the fact that you need to look up twenty factors before assigning a difficulty class, or the need to burn an entire action to maintain spell concentration, D&D simplifies it. With a handful of exceptions for classes with expertise, and not including the possibility of bardic inspiration being used on an already successful roll, most checks will be below 35, and DCs can be created by the DM - which is just one of the many ways D&D prioritizes player agency, a phrase we understand the meaning of and care about deeply.

And now that bears are out of vogue due to their association with hard drugs thanks to Cocaine Bear, you might be looking for alternatives to your Honey Heist game. One of my favorite games is D&D, which has the bonus of being flexible enough for both one-session games, and something ongoing! Pre-created character sheets and modules are available for free, so it can be as low-prep or as involved as you want. If you’re missing the animal aspects, check out the druid class, or you could take a look at the blood hunter class by Matt Mercer (who you may know as Trinket from Trinket’s Honey Heist) if you’re interested in playing a creature who might lose control. The McElroys, known Honey Heist players, have actually run several D&D campaigns if you are looking to onboard. Also, let's be real: Honey Heist is overly simplistic - seriously, only one page? - and has dumb hats, and if you knew about the other options, you'd obviously not be playing it.

Speaking of the McElroys, I bet we have some Blades in the Dark and PbtA fans in the audience! If you find mixed success mechanics frustrating, want to be able to have larger-scale, higher-stakes battles without the risk of dying immediately, or are interested in a less regimented structure that is more setting-agnostic, as well as provides opportunities for the Game Master (called a Dungeon Master in D&D) to fail, D&D is worth a look! It's a fairly combat-heavy game and characters are built to be able to withstand some heavy hits, so a large battle won't bring the narrative to a halt as your characters struggle to find outlets for their unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to recover (though, of course, if you like that, the open RP and general ability check mechanisms make it easy to include)!

What's important, in the end, is to remember that the TTRPG you are currently enjoying is wrong, bad, and stupid. Choose the game I, an internet stranger who has made no effort to learn anything of your personal tastes, interests, and the needs of your table, has decided you should play. And remember: the most important thing is having fun.

[whiteboardartstudios]

Goodbye, Gendaen

fan art for @mtqcomic

Thoughts and LONG ramble under the cut! (includes spoilers!!!)

A while ago (like last week maybe?) I realized that I've been following this comic for almost a year, and I still haven't drawn Mysta yet! I figured that with the recent end of Chapter 3 and that *huge* lore drop (I was NOT expecting that oh my goodness the theory wheels are turning in the void that is my brain) now would be a pretty good time to draw her! So that's where this came from! :D

I thought that it would be fun to draw Mysta looking sort of like a knight? Partially because it makes for cool posing and composition but also because I think that if she was in D&D she would be a paladin due to the whole "Hero sent by Destiny" thing (I considered sorcerer or warlock as well, but her moveset is mostly melee at the moment so I thought that paladin fits better. Plus this opens up the possibility of Gendaen being an Oathbreaker paladin, depending on how that whole situation with the Crimson went. (also now I kind of want to put the main cast of mtq in D&D even though I don't actually know a lot about D&D ToT. I think Eth would be a ranger maybe multiclassed into something magic-related, because rangers have a favored enemy mechanic that gives them advantages on fighting a certain type of enemy, which could be Crimson enemies for D&D Eth. Yele is (kind of obviously) a druid because of the whole dryad thing, and Zaïl is definitely giving rogue energy to me.)) Anyways, D&D-related sidetrack aside – hello??? End-of-chapter-3 lore drop? (/positive) I have SO many questions. First of all, what happened to convince Gendaen to switch sides? For someone who allegedly spent his entire life trying to cleanse the Crimson, it would've taken one heck of a worldview-upending revelation to get him to join it. With the information we currently have, it seems pretty clear that Gendaen isn't mind-controlled or corrupted or anything – not just because of the reasons Eth gave in page #169, but also because from all the interactions we've had with Nelun Soma'o/Gendaen, he seemed to be pretty chill? I pointed out in my first fan art post that it doesn't seem as if Nelun Soma'o is being built up to be a villain character and is instead more of an antagonist with a slight mentor role, and I think that still kind of holds up now. Gendaen definitely wants Mysta to help him and/or the Crimson with something, and as Yele said in that recent comic, things aren't really adding up. I'm still slightly suspicious of the Order of Learning as well (insert person pointing at conspiracy theory board meme here lol), since you would think that if Gendaen and Eth are really close then Gendaen might have told Eth about the whole Crimson situation, right? On Page #250 (which is marked as 150??? probably a typo but idk) Gendaen says that he didn't want Eth to be roped into this whole situation, which could be a reason for keeping him in the dark – though if he knew Eth really well then he might have suspected that Eth wouldn't just let him disappear and would go searching for him. Another possible reason (in my theory) if the Order is evil or something and Gendaen learned something that he shouldn't have learned, maybe he knew that Eth wouldn't believe him because of his loyalty to the Order? I may just be connecting random dots and calling it a picture here but *something* is going on and until we get more clues on what that may be, I'm sticking with this theory lol :P EDIT, I was rereading Gendaen's character sheet and it says there that he has a strong code of honor and fights for the underdogs (not the exact phrasing but it's close). 👀 does that mean the Crimson is in some sort of underdog position? 👀

Anyways back to the drawing a little, I gave both Gendaen and Mysta a sort of braid-like element in their designs to sort of tie them together a bit visually (Mysta's is on the sides of her head, which is kind of hard to see so I added a little ribbon to show that parts of her hair is tied back, and Gendaen's is in his golden hair accessory thingy). I think that there's definitely some sort of correlation between Gendaen's disappearance/switching to the Crimson and Mysta being sent to Sol Ybberia, and I also think that both of them are going to play an important role in whatever happens in the future, hence the braids (to show that their destinies are kind of intertwined, as the two Heroes of Sol Ybberia). I also thought that it would be fun to put Gendaen in a stained glass window instead of actually physically being present, because up until the Nelun Soma'o reveal, all the things we know about Gendaen are basically all from Eth's recollections of him, which for me definitely paints a bit of a "Character haunting the narrative" kind of vibe. I also think that with the Nelun Soma'o reveal, the somewhat glorified (for a lack of a better word – I think Eth might be a little biased when it comes to Gendaen, considering that Gendaen has been missing for about 5 years, if my math is correct? 5 years feels like a long time to me and I think that if a person important to me has been missing for that long then my impression of them would definitely start warping to how I want to remember them/who I wanted them to be and I might start unintentionally ignoring the things that doesn't quite match that image in my head. Speaking of/case in point, Eth's reaction to the Nelun Soma'o reveal!) image of Gendaen that we had got thrown in a metaphorical blender with our idea of the Crimson at the time, and it just makes things a whole lot more complicated in a very interesting way. (If you look at the bottom right of the image you can see Nelun Soma'o's cloak coming out of stained-glass Gendaen's cloak, which I thought would be a fun little detail to include). Hence, the stained glass is kind of the "perfect Hero who disappeared to advance the plot" Gendaen and we can see Mysta kind of splitting the glass with her Rotted Fork from a composition point of view, referencing that huge lore bomb she dropped a couple of pages ago and how that changes our (or at least my) perception of Gendaen as a character entirely. I really do like the plot twist, as I think it makes Gendaen a more 3-dimensional character with more complicated motivations and narrative significance, as before I mainly knew him as "predecessor to Mysta" and "one of Eth's sources of motivation", but now he my understanding of Gendaen also extends to things about Gendaen himself and not just about his role in relation to other characters (for example, "Gendaen is helping the Crimson for reasons currently unknown" or "Gendaen is planning something that involves Mysta??? and he's in the Void??? And apparently Mysta is supposed to jailbreak him out at some point in the future?" He definitely has something planned behind the scenes, I don't know what it is and I want to find out).

MORE THINGS about Gendaen (can you tell that he's my favorite character at the moment ToT), what's up with those last words? If I'm correct (and I think I am, I scrolled all the way back to the page where the gods were introduced just to check this ToT), Nomù is Compassion? How is compassion related to Gendaen's alliance with the Crimson? I mean, when you think of the Crimson, compassion definitely is NOT the first value that comes to mind. Right now it seems that to me, Gendaen's plan with Mysta and the Crimson and the Void is connected to Nomù somehow? (the "I won't disappoint you" is definitely interesting). I don't have a lot of thoughts or theories on where this might be going, I just thought that it was something interesting to metaphorically chew on for the next while. It definitely seems like it has some sort of narrative significance, at least.

There might be more things that I wanted to talk about, but I can't really think of them off the top of my head right now (it might be due to the fact that it's currently quite late in my time zone ToT I am sleepy) so that's all from me for now :D (Also dropping the version of the drawing with just the lineart here because I think it looks really cool)

I hope you have a really nice day and/or night! :D

*a starry rift in space opens up in front of me and I faceplant into it like it is a mattress* (gotta make that dramatic exit!) [Image ID: The first image is a colored and rendered image of Mysta from the Mysta's Terrarian Quest webcomic standing in front of a stained glass window of Gendaen. She is holding the Rotted Fork spear from Terraria, and she has a determined expression on her face. The stained glass shows Gendaen with his back turned to the audience, and one closed eye is visible. His cloak is flowing to the right of the image, where it emerges out of the stained glass as it fades from green to dark grey. Crimson vines, green trees, and white clouds surrounds Gendaen in the stained glass. Outside of the glass portrait, real crimson vines are creeping along the stone walls that the portrait is on, framing the portrait and Mysta in the middle. A red light source is shining down from the upper right corner of the drawing. End ID.] [Image ID: The second image is a work-in-progress version of the first image without any color and only some minimal shading, with all shades being in monochrome. Mysta's lineart is noticeably darker compared to the line art of the background. End ID.]

EDIT: Forgot to add image ids, they're here now TwT

[cjoat-boost]

March 4, 2024 Edit of this still relevant post from February 27, 2024

For those that view any of my online presences (including my blogs)…Um, this is something for you to know.

Please save this post so it doesn’t get buried by queue.

My& Current Health Situation

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I wish to communicate this to y’all now so that…I don’t end up worrying anyone when this happens. It may have been noticeable by some folks that I’m dragging, heavily. I’m not having a good time right now with my body. With this comes with an onion of issues detailing certain aspects of what I’m going through.

I know I have a lot of obligations. Not only as a creative and content creator; but as a friend, a mentor, Guardian or even older peer, and myself. I’ve neglected myself for too long. I have been noticing my vitality decrease; and my CFS and POTS flaring up further.

Social Justice is something I’m always perceiving and sensitive to; and as such, the strain I’ve noticed too late has been worsening. Includes many emotional meltdowns and outbursts from me that I can no longer control or hold back.

Trying to figure out how to exactly sort through the mass tangles of my traumatized emotional and mental state isn’t as simple as I hoped for me. While I’m creatively burned out, I am suffering Autistic burnout. A double whammy of all things.

I’m finding myself getting “stuck,” unable to physically move for hours at a time. I’d move upstairs to eat something but end up being there for what’s normally an half hour task…for nearly 2+ hours. Even so, trying to force movement to do tasks that is considered “everyone can do these” is mentally painful and physically locking. Even if I have to desperately use the bathroom when I’m about to fall asleep, my headmates (AKA alters) have to switch to co-front or “snatch me back” in order to get my body moving. That’s with the sudden rocket spike in heart rate and blood pressure, and loss of balance (at the very least).

I’m already struggling to cope with many things due to the fact that I haven’t been able to draw much at all; or create anything and write anything. Especially trying desperately to fulfill my word on things I had the energy to do, but no longer do. So much of my struggles I can’t properly transmute. It’s so upsetting.

Thus, there’s going to be a sudden and abrupt shift in posting or messaging. I don’t know when. But it is coming.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Especially since I’ve been feeling mania over the weekend. All weekend, Saturday and Sunday, I manic cleaned large portions of certain areas I occupy as well as my housemate. Today I’m feeling the aching in my joints badly, with my calves swearing hell at me. I’m wearing my wrist brace too, I just…I’m rambling.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I wish for you to know what’s happening if you don’t see or hear from me, my headmates, or any of my online presences (as depicted here: https://cjoatbysamwise.com/cjoats-links ) No one is being forgotten. I’m not abandoning anyone. I’m not ghosting anyone. What I do know (still coming to terms with it ngl) is I need to stop, fully stop, and recover. It’s looking like my body is going to do that for me by force. It’s going to be abrupt and sudden to the inconvenience of many, including my housemate, unfortunately.

I don’t know how long this will last. But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep “hustling” like this. Does this sound repetitive? I wanted to communicate before suddenly I’m unable.

Does this sound repetitive? I’ll end it here. I wanted to communicate before suddenly I’m unable.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I’ll end it here with how you can support me while I’m down, only able to and wish to (I’m aware financial situations are a big struggle at the moment, there is no pressure to.)

Provide support by these links:

Thank you for reading until the end; have an awesome week ahead. Please remember to hydrate and eat. 🫶🏽❤️‍🩹

[reisolate]

100Kano autism headcanons

I initially wrote this post on Reddit a few months back, but I thought it we could fit better on Tumblr instead, so that's what I will do.

Introduction

We all know that Rentaro's girlfriends are all pretty eccentric in some manner, with all sorts of unique traits, so naturally (heh) some of them might exhibit characteristics associated with autism. So I thought I'd make one post discussing them. Full disclaimer, these are observations I make based on personal experience (I'm autistic and know a bunch of autistic people), and you may have differing opinions.

I'm going to go through the girlfriends that I think demonstrate autistic traits. I'll give my first impression, discuss traits that I've observed, and state whether I think they're autistic. So, let's begin!

Shizuka

Our cute book-loving cinnamon roll. Not sure about her without thinking about it, because her cuteness is so distracting.

Autistic traits

Special interest in books and literature, to the point she's memorized the locations and pages of particular phrases in her favourite books

Selective mutism, as she doesn't speak unless it's absolutely necessary or if she's singing karaoke

Is she autistic?

Maybe. While she does show some traits of autism, I find it hard to make a judgement. You could see her as autistic if you wanted to, but you could also see her as someone who only has social anxiety (though being able to memorize locations of certain phrases in books tilts things towards the former too).

Nano

The intelligent and efficient paragon of beauty. She seems pretty obvious because of everything about her.

Autistic traits

High level of intelligence

High degree of skill in various tasks

Memorization of various pieces of knowledge

Monotone speaking voice

Stimming (reciting the digits of pi whenever faced with uncertainty)

Focus on efficiency can be seen as rigidity

Social difficulties, partially due to her limited regard of social conventions and initially not seeing the purpose of friendship

Compared to an alien, which is a thing that happens with some autistic people

Is she autistic?

Definitely. Her traits definitely fit the classic image of being the straightforward autistic genius that we often see in media. I'd be more surprised if she wasn't.

Kusuri

Our age-shifting drug addict. A bit hard to tell at first glance because of how chaotic she is. Then again...

Autistic traits

Intense special interest in chemistry and making drugs

A prodigy in chemistry, to the point where she has been courted by at least 2 drug labs over the course of the story

Verbal tic of saying "nanoda" could count as a stim, potentially

Intense focus when developing drugs or doing anything related to them.

Infodumping about various drugs during the shopping trip chapter

Is she autistic?

Definitely. Her infodumping was what solidified it for me. In fact, I'd go farther and say she has ADHD too, given how she focuses on developing drugs so much she doesn't even go to the bathroom, as well as seeing how energetic she gets. Probably doesn't help that she has to switch between a child and teenager form too.

Meme

Our shy beauty. She just seems socially anxious, but...

Autistic traits

Shown to be very skilled at knitting, could be a special interest

Incredibly shy (this needs no explanation)

Is she autistic?

Maybe. She definitely has severe social anxiety, which I personally lean towards, but she also can be interpreted as autistic, particularly with her knitting skills, which is why I mention her. I will make no comment on her disappearing abilities as they are far beyond the bounds of neuroscience (or physical science, for that matter).

Chiyo

The order-obsessed younger cousin. She seems like she could be.

Autistic traits

An extremely strong desire for things to be orderly

Has that "rrrgh" grumble when she sees something out of order, which could be a stim

Has rigid moral principles

Melts down when she doesn't have her glasses

Is she autistic?

Likely. Given how much she focuses on things being orderly, as well as her personal sense of justice, it does seem like it. However, there's also the argument that her personality is partially like this due to losing her mother so young. However, given her other personal quirks, my judgement leads me to believe she's on the spectrum. OCD is also likely for her, though to what extent I'm not sure.

Momiji

Our masseuse and soft things enthusiast. I didn't think of her at first, honestly.

Autistic traits

Special interest in massaging and soft things

Able to assess the body muscles of a person on sight

Near-perpetual flat expression on her face, with her lips curled up

Has a more subdued style of talking, and the way she starts her phrases with a mumble makes it seem like it's a stim

Enjoys the sensation of soft things in general, women's bodies in particular, which is an attraction to certain textures

Has a certain disregard for normal social expectations as she regularly gropes others with no concept of boundaries, and doesn't realize how others feel about it

Is she autistic?

Definitely. Now that I think about it, that would explain a lot of Momiji's eccentricity, particularly her enjoyment of soft things and her disregard for personal boundaries. It just makes sense. I really wish she would get more development and story focus.

Suu

The foremost fan of numbers. The fan reaction when she was introduced speaks for itself.

Autistic traits

Has a highly intense special interest in numbers, to the point where her personality dramatically changes when they come up

Socially isolated because no one understands her love for numbers, and she finds it hard to communicate

Usually has a flat expression until numbers come up, at which point her face can be the most adorable thing ever

Is she autistic?

Obviously. Given that she was called "the autism GF" by many when she was introduced, it's quite a no-brainer. She really emphasizes the social struggles autistic people have when others can't comprehend their interests the way they do. In fact, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that if you disagree with this, you’re just plain wrong.

A concluding note on Rentaro

Doing this list and noting these things down just further made me appreciate how devoted, caring, and understanding of a character Rentaro really is. Finding a partner who gets you is hard enough, and it's even harder if you're autistic. The way Rentaro is in tune with the emotions of all his girlfriends, even those harder to understand, just goes to show what an absolutely overpowered character he is.

And that's all. I spent way too much time on this.

[kinokoshoujoart]

cora’s bad time hell simulation steps or how to play “sprite station for girl” “harvest moon ds cute” the wrong way

(all ways are wrong this game is Accursed)

ok so here’s what my disorganized “guide” to myself for harvest moon ds for girl (aka indecipherable notes i wrote to myself as i played and revised as i tested various things and restarted due to mistakes) looks like. at some point when i become a real gamer i will write a legible guide meant for eyes to look at but uhhh this is how i play this accursed game personally

i’m not sure if anything i wrote will make any sense since i wrote it as notes to myself so probably definitely use fogu and fc2 jonason wiki (may not work but some pages should be archived) instead

ALSO if you’ve never played or barely played the game it won’t make sense at all! hmds was my first harvest moon so i am used to various horrors!

my play style is probably not fun in general HOWEVER if you are a grinding hell goblin like me then it’s GREAT!!!! if not you may still find it amusing that the game gives you permission to play like this

(it’s a great background task game while doing like productive stuff but otherwise playing this way would probably be unbearable)

(image limit)

anyway after that the days go a lot faster, you’ll get the island on summer 1, so on spring 30 i put all my money into million G tickets and sell 200 of em, do the 5x money thing, and save the rest. so when thomas comes the next day to sell you the 900 million G island you can just sell 180 tickets and do the 5x money thing again with like ~600 million G tickets left over. it takes up inventory but you’ll get the shelf in a few days. basically you just need to remember to order from the TV shopping every saturday and place orders with gotz and gray whenever they finish stuff.

random tips

after unlocking the fuckass hot spring sprites (the ones that require you to spend a total of 700 1 hour sessions in the hot springs) i usually grind grazing points— if you put your animals outside for 5 hours you get a “Love Point”, but if you interact with them after they earn that LP then the timer switches over and you can get another LP after 5 more hours. if you wear the time ring the whole time it’s 2.5 hours. i’m not very good at explaining this but basically if you’re super efficient you can get way more animal LP than you realistically should, which is great because the touch glove petting minigame is Bad!!!!

i usually wait on getting the rest of the purple sprites (the ones that require you to hire the purple team and ask for healing) until i’m totally done with the indigo team, cuz i wanna get HG’s purple heart event asap, but you can switch the order if you want

by summer y1 you’ll basically have a feel for everything. aside from Skye, Leia, HG and WP everyone can be married early-mid autumn if you want

if you want to Gay (in the japanese version only) keira is the quickest to marry. leia is the quickest to max affection but it’s impossible to get leia year 1 because the bottle you need to fish up can only be caught in spring. you have to wait until at least year 5 for WP and iirc year 6 for HG.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Distance and the Time Between Us

Part One - February, 2016

A/N - Part one starts at the beginning where Y/N and William first meet. You can read the Introduction here

Y/N is invited by the organization to do some light-hearted promotional video shorts to try and elevate the mood surrounding the Leafs (the team is having one of their worst seasons on record) and support the Marlies (their season is the polar opposite). I have never really written dialogue before and truthfully, I struggled with it so hopefully it's not too painful to read. Hopefully my French isn't too brutal either.

Warnings: mention of medical issues, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

Early February, 2016

“Okay, so the idea is that we’re going to test her knowledge about Sweden, and then in order to get a point, she also needs to shoot the puck in the net.  Then we’ll flip it over to you and you will need to answer some questions about Canada and then do the same with the puck. Easy, right?” Amanda chuckles at William as he makes an indiscernible, possibly bordering on unimpressed, face. 

“Why can’t you ask ME the Swedish questions…I mean, how hard are these questions anyway?'' William says, trying to coax the Marketing Manager into switching things up.  

“Because we have to make it somewhat challenging - there’s no fun in making it too easy for you” Amanda laughs.  “Plus, she may not know anything about Sweden so you could totally run away with this.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so…I’d rather not get pummeled and have the whole thing recorded…I’ll never live it down”  William laughs.  He finishes tying up the laces on his skates, exits the dressing room and joins the camera crew on the ice.

Not long after, you emerge from another dressing room of the practice facility for the Leafs and Marlies, decked out in a zip-up team jacket, dark tights and your hockey skates.  You were provided with a customized Bauer stick to match the one the former first-round pick uses.  You take a quick glance at your reflection in the glass and chuckle to yourself thinking, rather modestly, “it’s as good as it’s going to get”.  You adjust the Leafs toque that was provided to you and open the latch to the gate.

You hop onto the ice, trying to contain the sheer excitement of even being at this rink.  As a local girl, you were brought up watching the Leafs.  At the age of 4, you found a souvenir from a Maple Leaf’s game that your Dad had attended.  It was a glossy paged yearbook of the 1993/1994 Leafs roster and when your eyes fell upon Felix Potvin, the Leafs starting net minder, you were done…your little 4 year old heart fell head over heels in love with him.  The adoration for Felix made you a fan, not just of the team, but of the game.  It wasn’t an aspiration of yours to necessarily play hockey; the dreams of being a musician had already consumed your mind, body and soul.  It was the skating; the power and speed behind every glide that held your focus as you watched each game.  As a child, you took figure skating lessons but after years of struggling with some of the fundamentals due to your stout body structure, especially in your legs (making it difficult to do the ‘cross’ part of the ‘cut’), you dropped the lessons, and stayed away from participating in any on-ice activities.  

Years later, your height nearly reaching 5’9” after some significant growth spurts, your body took a more shapely and athletic form, mainly as a result of swimming laps nightly at the community pool.  Much like skating, the power and strength behind every movement with swimming laps appealed to you.  It taught you focus while developing precise and efficient motion.  You were a natural born worrier; the rhythm and repetition of gliding through water helped free you from the relentless chatter that plagued your mind.  

With the changes to your frame allowing your legs to finally accomplish the menacing cross-cut, and you now making money from your band's pursuits, the power skating lessons began.  With you being based in Britain at the time, it was challenging to find the exact program that you wanted.  You resigned to being the only 5’8”, fully developed 18 year old female taking “ice-hockey lessons” as they called it, alongside 8 and 9 year old boys.  You learned another valuable lesson during this time, learning to drown out the comments and unwanted input from those around you, in order to do what you love.  It came in handy - at this point in time, being an up and coming band, you still found yourselves playing gigs in front of audiences where 20% wanted to hear you and 80% did not.

And here you are now, a superstar in your own right, invited by the Maple Leafs organization to make some promotional video shorts with members of the current Maple Leafs and Toronto Marlies teams.  The Leafs were having a pretty tough season; the Marlies season was the polar opposite. The organization’s hope was that some light-hearted PR involving the once small-town Ontario girl, turned mega-celebrity, who happens to love both Toronto hockey teams, could help lighten the abysmal mood that infected the fan base.  

As he chatted with Amanda, William watched you with interest as you skated towards the production team.  He knows you - well, not exactly…he at least knows who you are.  William was familiar with a few of your hits and generally liked some of  your solo stuff but he was nowhere near the level of fandom of his three sisters.  Even William’s younger brother, Alex, was an avid follower of yours but he mused it might be more about your physical beauty than your music.

Alex nearly jumped through the phone last night when William explained that he was doing a video segment with you the following day.  

William hadn’t noticed his conversation with Amanda had completely trailed off; his eyes firmly set on you as you enthusiastically greeted each person on the set.   You were simply luminescent, and William was honestly taken aback with your natural ability to put everyone at ease.  Although you were the VIP of the day, you made everyone in the room feel like they were too.  

William’s sky-blue eyes traced the side-profile of your face; butterflies started to form in his stomach when you glanced towards him and smiled.  As he smiled back, the butterflies were replaced by an elephant stampede in his chest, and he began to feel an intense heat radiating from his cheeks.

You skated over to him and unbeknownst to you, he was actually nervous, despite his demeanor of appearing totally relaxed.  

“Hey William” you said, extending your hand.  “I’m Y/N - I’m so excited to meet you” you said, grinning your widest grin.

And as William grinned his widest grin back at you, there were two thoughts crashing in your mind at the same time - “Jesus - he’s fucking gorgeous” followed promptly by “he’s probably a prick so forget about it”.

“Nice to meet you too…. My sisters are huuuuuge fans of yours”, William said.

You smiled with appreciation “That’s awesome…please tell them thank you, from me, if you can.  It’s always so nice to hear that.” 

You paused - you didn’t want to pry, or sound intrusive but you saw the hit William took from the Swiss player at the World Juniors in December and had been on your mind since, given his connection with the Marlies.

Tentatively, you continued. “I saw some clips from the All-star Classic last week - it must have felt good to be back on the ice.   

“Oh - you mean after the concussion”.  You weren’t sure if William was embarrassed but he looked down towards the ice and ran his fingers through his luxurious blonde hair.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced “Yeah…I watched that game…” you trailed off, feeling really uncertain if you should say any more.  “I’m so sorry - that hit on you was brutal.” 

 “It didn’t feel good, that’s for sure; should’ve kept my head up” he quipped.  “But yeah, between that and my appendix almost bursting after that, I’m a lot better now”.  

You kicked yourself mentally, hoping you hadn’t created an awkward moment; you were never one to handle uncomfortable silences very well.   

In an attempt to recover, you look up at William with a smile.

 “Well, I’m so glad to hear you’ve recovered.  It looks like they’re almost ready…let’s get this rig rolling”, giving him a little wink and a slight nudge.

You turn to see that the crew has nearly finished setting up the lighting and Amanda is going through some details with the woman that will be hosting the segment.  You skate off to join Amanda and the host to see if you can get some intel of the questions being asked.

Amanda calls William over and she begins to direct you to where you’ll both need to stand so the lighting casts perfectly over your faces. 

A make-up artist appears, and begins to do some minor touch-ups to enhance your healthy glow, and applies a thin layer of gloss to your lips as an extra measure.

William watches as you raise your chin up and close your eyes, as brushes lightly graze over your features.  It’s unnerving for him to look at you; he’s convinced that you’re one of the most strikingly beautiful women that he's ever met. And he’d met plenty of women, or girls, depending. At the young age of 19, he’d already gotten a taste of the boy-band level of popularity with many females in Toronto, looking to catch the attention of an up and coming hockey star.  Add in all the girls he would meet during years of road trips, William never had to make an effort for girls to flock to him. Because of this, William found it difficult to establish a real connection beyond the overly available, yet casual, hook-ups which, most of the time, became complicated and messy. 

Filming quickly gets underway and the host introduces you both, giving a quick history about each of you.  

“OK Y/N - are you ready for the first question?” the host asks 

“Absolutely” you say, smiling.

“What are the two colours on the Swedish Flag?”

Relieved it’s an easy question, you quickly answer “Blue and Yellow”.  You position the puck just so and fire your shot, hitting the back of the net with ease.

William smiles and appears to be impressed as he raises an eyebrow and mouths the word “Wow”.

As the Swedish trivia challenge continued on, you managed to answer all of the remaining questions correctly, even blurting out the answer to the bonus question related to what type of government Sweden has (you’re not even sure how you knew the answer but nevertheless, you seemed to delight the onlookers).  Better yet, your shots on net were pretty solid and each puck hit the netting, coupled with an audible swoosh.

More and more, William was finding himself completely captivated by you.  Since he set his eyes on you, he sensed a massive contrast between you and the girls that he frequently came in contact with.  William’s mind began to race with questions about you; he needed to know more about you.  At the same time, and as self-assured as William normally was, the thought of asking a global celebrity for at least her number, had his stomach tied in knots.

William was up.  Everyone knew he was a sniper, so obviously scoring was not going to be an issue.  The questions related to Canada were generally the same as the Swedish ones, and William answered them with ease.

Each time you glanced at William, your heart started to race a little more.  You had made a snap judgement about his personality, based solely on his exterior, which completely backfired on you.    He proved to be warm and charming, with a smile that never seemed to leave his face.  You contemplated if you had ever met a man who smiled as much as William seemed to.  

The host’s voice brings you back down to earth.

“OK, William - in order to get to the bonus question, name three of your favourite Canadian music artists” the host asked, glancing over at you with a wink and a smile.

It seemed obvious enough that William would include you in the answer, since you were 8 feet away from him, but instead, he rhymed off Justin Bieber, Drake and The Weeknd.  He shot the puck and satisfied with his response, smiled at the host.

There was an odd silence as the onlookers seemed surprised that William appeared to snub you, on camera no less.  

William read the room and looked over at you with a confused look.  You smiled back at him and shrugged your shoulders.  

The host, trying to assess the situation, looking to find some humour in it, chuckles and says “Ok, I guess William’s not a fan of Y/N it seems” which was met with some low-key snickering from the crew.

“Wait - what?” William says, half laughing - his cheeks starting to burn.  His expression was mostly like a deer caught in the headlights.

You, sensing his embarrassment, said “It’s all good…” you giggled and looked at the host “Those would be my choices…I’m not necessarily everyone’s cup of tea” you say modestly.

William’s head swiftly turned in your direction.  His eyebrows lifted and his mouth dropped open as he realized his unintentional SNAFU.

The onlookers shook their heads and laughed; some came over and gave William some hearty pats on his shoulder, accompanied by some good natured ribbing.

You could see William trying to laugh it off but as he looked at you with a combined expression of awkwardness and unease, and your heart cracked a little for him.  

The host waves her hands and grabs everyone’s attention again.

“Alright, William, moving along - for the bonus question.  If you answer this correctly, then we’ll need a tie breaker between you and Y/N.  The question is a geography based one”.

William groaned and his face lowered into his gloved hands.  

The host continued, “How many territories are there in Canada?”

Someone in the group decided to quietly hum the Jeopardy theme song which was of no help to William.

William inhaled, squinted his face and apprehensively answered “2?”

“Ooooh - sorry William!  Soooo clooooose!” the host says in faux dismay.  “There’s actually 3”.

The host mercifully wraps up the segment declaring you the winner of the trivia challenge.  William taps his stick on the ice as recognition, and everyone begins to disperse.

William makes his way over to you; his dazzling eyes are fixed on your face, a wide, almost mischievous grin, spans his angelic visage.

“Are you sure you’re not Swedish?  I wasn’t sure I even knew all those answers” he joked.  

“So…who’s your next victim with these shoots?” William asks coyly.

“Whoa - really…victim?” you answer feigning shock with a side of a phoney ‘how dare you’.

“Aren’t you the one who slayed me during this little stint…snubbing me entirely” you laughed,  nudging William in the arm.  

William groans “You have no idea how badly I’m going to be chirped about this.  I really don't know what I was thinking.  Fuck it - I’ll blame on it on the concussion.” 

“Oh my gosh - honestly, it was really pretty funny. It wasn’t like you were saying I suck…unless that’s exactly what you were trying to say” you dead-panned, raising an eyebrow at him.  “We might have a problem then if that's the case,” you joked.

William laughs “Tell you what…I do really feel bad…do you maybe want to grab something to eat later on, if you’re not busy?”

Your heart leapt inside your chest into your throat. 

“I wish I could but I have plans with some old friends…I haven't seen them in ages so they’ll be pissed if I blow them off.  I’m here for another week or so - maybe we can swing another time?” you said, hopefully.

“For sure…here…” Williams grabs his phone from his pocket “Can you add your number?”

William hands you the phone and you start typing the digits of your number.  Under the contact name, you typed in "Can I be your #4?", saved it and handed the phone back to William.  Amanda calls out for you and William to get a picture together so William quickly jams his phone back into his pocket and drapes his arm around your shoulder.  You gently extended your arm around his waist thinking that seemed to be the only place on his body that made sense.  With that mere touch, externally you smiled for the camera, but internally, were acutely aware of the faint but noticeable throb between your legs that William’s mere touch seemed to incite.  "Keep it together Y/N, for fuck sakes" you joked to yourself.  

"It was so great to meet you William - it was a ton of fun" you laughed, taking your hand out of the hockey glove and extending it to William.

“Trivia isn’t really my thing but you definitely made it more interesting” William said as he extended his arms out for an embrace.  

You managed to pull the plug on the wild smut show that had already started in your brain, kept it light, and while hugging him, you patted his back gently and pulled away.

“See you, William,” you said grinning.

William wanted to come up with something clever, something extra but his brain just wasn’t engaging. Instead, he smiled bashfully and simply said “See you…I hope”.

Later on, in the parking lot, William sat in his car looking through his contacts, searching for your name.  His heart sank when he went to the first letter of your name and found nothing.  

He scrolled back to the top of his contacts, his thumb slowly grazing the glass to look at every single contact name he had.  “Shit - I need to get rid of some of these” he thought as he bypassed a myriad of girls' names from previous encounters.  

William laughs when he finally discovers the pseudonym you gave yourself and sits there for a moment, grinning like the Cheshire Cat; his chest fills up with a warm sensation unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.  

He arrived home to his downtown condo that he shared with his teammate, Kasperi.  

“Hey - how’d it go?  How was she?” Kappy asked, not looking up from the TV screen.

William grabbed water from the fridge and walked to the living room where Kasperi lounged on the couch, almost enveloped by the overstuffed cushions that were strewn about.  Immersed in Call of Duty, Kasperi only could mutter “Fuck” multiple times in a row.

“Good. She’s really nice actually” William said, not wanting to elaborate on his newly developed interest.  

“Is she as hot up close as she looks on screen?  That video she was in - you know….that song” Kasperi hums the tune of one of your more popular solo hits “she’s hardly wearing anything under a buttoned-down dress shirt and mmmm…she’s in stilettos” Kappy mused, eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Jesus, Kap - get a grip” William forced a chuckle, trying not to let his annoyance show.  

“You wanna play for a bit?” Kasperi asked, mumbling expletives as William declined.

“Gonna go for a nap - see you in a few”.  William disappears into his bedroom.  He flops onto the bed and rolls over, grabbing the pillow on the right side.  He lay there thinking of you; he can hardly believe it but he’s already dying to see you again.  He grabs his phone and Googles your name.  First, he pulls up images of you - everything from award ceremonies and galas to magazine covers.

William continues to scroll through the search results, pulling up a video that a fan made on YouTube.  It’s a video montage of you, at various events over the years.  The song “More than a Woman” by the BeeGees plays in the background; the music somehow further enhances every movement of your elegant figure and every detail of your radiant face. 

As you smile for the cameras.

As you laugh with your bandmates.

As you take the stage in front of thousands of fans.

Ugh.  As you looked at your (now ex-) boyfriend in the eyes while walking the red carpet, your arm looped through his.

That last one hurt.

William flipped his phone over and grabbed the pillow once again.  He closed his eyes, imagining the pillow was your body lying next to him, the first few moments of meeting you were on a continuous loop in his mind, until sleep finally found him.

****************************************************************

After the segment with William had wrapped, you headed to the dressing room to change out of your skates.

Evelyn breezes through the door after waving good-bye and saying thanks to the small entourage that escorted her to the dressing room.   

“That went well…” 

Evelyn’s British accent, and the way she enunciated her words, seemed to always sound sardonic, whether it was intentional or not.  You had learned that it was just best to stick with the facts throughout conversations with Evelyn; as your manager, you learned fast that she often wasn’t in the mood to hear about frilly musings other than in your songs.  

“Poor soul looked completely lost after he rhymed off every fucking Canadian singer, except you” she smirked.

“Jesus. he picked three of his favourite performers that he listens to, and they are all amazing,” you laughed.  “He’s not required to be a fan of mine,” you said as you nudged Evelyn’s arm. “He felt bad though - he asked me out to make up for it, so that was nice” you trailed off, your cheeks inadvertently blushing at the thought.

“So that’s why you gave him your number” Evelyn smiled.  “It’s nice to see you finally getting back on the horse”.  Evelyn reaches into her long Burberry coat, pulling out her phone to open a newly delivered text message.  “Play your cards right, you may get to ride him too.  You could use a good…” she said in a low tone, neither taking her eyes off the screen or bothering to finish her sentence.  

You scoffed, but it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t already entered your mind.

Amanda appeared at the door and invited you and Evelyn to head to the players lounge for a quick bite.   

On the way,  Amanda listed off which of the Maple Leafs would be taking part in the next segment.  All very familiar names to you and much to your delight, the players in question were waiting for you in the lounge.  

Tyler Bozak, Nazem Kadri, Morgan Rielly and Jake Gardiner stood gathered around the kitchen counter, deep in a spirited debate about popular wrestlers from the eighties.

Morgan appeared to be the bonafide WWE expert and was busy putting the rest to shame as he rhymed off some of the greats.

“Wasn’t there a female manager for….shit, who was it?” Kadri asked, snapping his fingers as he wracked his brain for the answer.  

“Fuck….what was her name….ah shit - I’m drawing a blank….” Morgan said, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead.  “Fuck me, this is gonna drive me nuts now”.

The group snickered at him.

 “Some expert you are” Jake said, poking Morgan repeatedly in the ribs.

“Miss Elizabeth” you said with a smile as you approached the group.  “She was Macho Man Randy Savage’s manager”.

Morgan’s head swivelled around as he said “Awh - yeah!  Thank God….fuck - I just drew a total blank” Morgan said, apparent relief washing over him.  

Introductions weren’t needed with the 4 players as you had briefly met each of the men at a charity function the year before.  Each gave you a friendly hug as you all continued on with the lively conversation.   

“We had about 5 TV channels growing up, there wasn’t cable out in the country - we just had a TV antenna and a router” you laughed.  “I think it was the Hamilton channel that showed WWE reruns Saturdays at noon.  Sort of became a fan of the 80’s wrestlers, whether I wanted to be or not '' you joked.  “I always thought Miss Elizabeth was so beautiful…” you mused.

The men all made their own noises, nodding and affirming that Miss Elizabeth was indeed, well…hot.

Not long after, Amanda summoned you all to a common area of the lounge, where the next video segment was to take place.  You glanced over and could see Evelyn and Amanda, deep in conversation.  You usually wouldn’t notice or care what Evelyn was doing; you and your Manager had an incredible working relationship and you trusted her implicitly.  That was, until you had a sneaking suspicion that she, the host and Amanda were hatching some plan involving you for the next video. 

Before you could worry about it for too long, you and the 4 players were instructed to sit in the director-style chairs that had been lined up for you.

The host gives the directives of a game that is something between Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever.  The questions that were directed at the players weren’t anything risqué, but were enough to cause a rumpus between the men, resulting in some hearty banter.   

Once the verbal melee ceased and everyone starts to settle again, the host turns toward you with a knowing smile.  

“We’ve left Y/N to last.  You may not know this but Y/N’s Maple Leaf fandom spans back to when she was just a small girl.  We’ve designed a very special Who’d You Rather between the Leafs past…. and present….players” she says drawing out each of the last few words emphatically.  “With Y/N being unattached currently, we decided this might be fun…” the host says teasingly. 

You shot a look at Evelyn, vowing to murder her later for this.

Evelyn smiles back at you, gesturing for you to hurry up and get this thing going.

On the monitor in front of you, a picture of Dion Phaneuf, the current Captain of the Leafs, appears next to a picture of former Captain Wendel Clark.  The players whooped and hollered at your choices and you audibly groaned, not knowing exactly how to navigate the choices.

“Oh my God - how am I supposed to choose? So what, this is who I’d like to date?  I actually know Dion - I’m friends with his wife too….” you trail off.  “Oh - but I love Wendel too” you giggle.

“Just so you all know” you say to the crowd, motioning towards your surroundings, “this…this whole situation has to be among my worst nightmares…” 

As the host cycles through a few more pictures, each of the 4 players giving their (unsolicited) input, albeit mockingly, as though they themselves were on a dating show.  

Your adoration for Felix Potvin was known to the crew, thanks to Evelyn, so naturally, Felix’s picture appears next to Morgan’s.  “Ooof, sorry Morgan…I have to go with my man, my precious Felix” you said, reaching over to tap Morgan’s knee.  

“Fine then…” Morgan deadpanned, with the slightest smirk.

One after the other, you choose Felix over the image that appears on the opposite slide.  

The host smiles and says “Devoted Potvin admirer, you have to love that!  If you had the chance to meet him, what would you say?” 

You were suddenly worried Felix would pop out of the woodwork, the look of excited anticipation mixed with worry crosses your face.  You jokingly peer over both of your shoulders and respond “Je veux dire ‘C'est un plaisir de vous rencontre.  Je suis tellement un grand fan de toi.  I don’t think I would be able to get out much more than that”, you laugh.

“Ok, this is the last image.  You just met this player this morning and managed to squeak past him to win in the trivia challenge” the host says, eyes fixed on your face.

William’s headshot from the Marlies appears on the screen, next to your first hockey love.  The 4 men sat next to you chime in playfully with a series of “ooooh….Willy Nylander…”

You stay composed looking at the picture, trying not to appear as flustered as you felt.  In one short meeting, William had actually made an impact on you.  Yes, you found him breathtakingly gorgeous, but it was far more than that.  There was a kindness about him; something about him seemed so refreshing and you found yourself really wanting a chance to talk with him more.

You try to suppress a smile but you end up with a wide grin and cheeks flushed.  This shouldn’t be a big deal - but admitting that you might like a boy sent your mind hurtling back to 9th grade, when you were meek and awkward and would sooner die than allow a boy to see that you might think he’s cute.

But, you decide to play it safe and bypass William’s picture, just willing for this segment to be over.  “I’m sticking with Felix,” you laugh.

“Felix it is!” the host says as she gives the appearance of cheering your choice.  

Once the production crew deems they can wrap the segment, you slide off your chair and mingle with the 4 players and others that had gathered around for a quick snack before packing up.

Evelyn saunters up to you and whispers “You beautiful, chinless wonder* - you should have picked the boy…”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.  Secretly, you had chosen him in your mind; you couldn’t stop thinking about him.  ‘Fuck Y/N…you’re sunk’ is the only thought you had toying in your head.

“You can just keep your opinions to yourself,” you laughed toward Evelyn.  “Let’s just go, I gotta get ready for dinner soon”.

(*chinless wonder is apparently British slang for a coward)

[cxdemistake]

—Time slips away!

Burn out, don’t fade!

Dance on my grave!

I will never be them!—

Indie multimuse, multifandom blog.

Canon and OC muses present

Currently mobile-only

Semi-selective, semi-active

Open to asks and messages

More info (link to OCs, list of canon muses, writer info, and rules) under the cut.

OC Links

*Note: A few characters’ appearances/voices have changed, so make sure to check out the tags on the blog. OCs are tagged with “; (name)”— for example, my character Myarel is tagged with “; myarel” (no quotations).*

Canon Muses

*Note: Many of these muses aren’t listed on my muse page due to being unable to update said page from my phone. Muse tags vary. Some are tagged with fancy tags but I may switch between those and regular tags. They’re listed here in alphabetical order by fandom.*

**Edit: I’ve also marked which fandoms/muses are most active. Very active fandoms will be bolded, semi-active italic, and dormant/needing some time before interaction are regular text. I’ll also put an asterisk after new muses/muses I haven’t played yet. I beg that if a fandom isn’t bolded or italicized that you discuss it with me before sending something in or making a starter— I have a lot of muses and it takes time to get into the swing of new ones when I’m not in the right mindset!**

The Arcana: Asra Alnazar*, Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak*, Faust

American Gods: Mad Sweeney

Assassin’s Creed: Ezio Auditore da Firenze*, Aveline de Grandpré

Avatar: The Last Airbender: Zuko*

Back 4 Blood: Karlee*, Evangelo*

Baldur’s Gate 3: Astarion*

Boondock Saints: Murphy MacManus*

Call of Duty: Simon “Ghost” Riley*, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish*

Chappie: Chappie*

Columbo: Lt. Frank Columbo*

Dead Island/Riptide: Sam B, John Morgan*

Detroit: Become Human: Connor, Markus*

Dirty Bomb: Vassili*

Disturbed (band): The Guy*

Dream Daddy: Damien Bloodmarch*, Robert Small*

Dying Light: Kyle Crane*, Rahim*, Karim*

FNAF: Cupcake

Hazbin Hotel: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer

Homestuck: Gamzee, Calsprite

I, Frankenstein: Adam

Into the Badlands: Baron Quinn*

Jet Set Radio Future: Yoyo*

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Jonathan Joestar*, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo*, Josuke Higashikata*, Giorno Giovanna*, Jolyne Cujoh*, Caesar Zeppeli

Kingdom Hearts: Axel

Left 4 Dead 2: Ellis, Nick

Marvel: Nightcrawler*, Moon Knight*, Eddie Brock/Venom*

Monster High: River Styxx*, Operetta*, Frankie Stein*

The Nightmare Before Christmas: Jack Skellington*

Obey Me!: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo

Onmyoji: Yasha*, Hiromasa*, Susabi*

Pirates of the Caribbean: Captain Jack Sparrow*

Portal: GLaDOS

Red Dead Redemption: John Marston*, Arthur Morgan*

Rise of the Guardians: Jack Frost*

Skullgirls: Valentine

Stardew Valley: Shane*

Steven Universe: Garnet*, Ruby*, Sapphire*, Sunstone*, Sardonyx*, Rainbow Quartz 2.0*

Spiritfarer: Gwen*

Suicide Squad: Diablo

Undertale/Deltarune: Papyrus, Sans, Susie*

Until Dawn: Chris*

The Village: Ivy Walker

Walking Dead/Fear: Negan Smith, Daryl Dixon, Morgan Jones, Shiva, Victor Strand*, Qaletaqa Walker*, Crazy Dog*

Warframe: Excalibur Umbra*

Warm Bodies: R, M

What We Do In The Shadows: Nandor the Relentless*, Viago*, Vladislav*

Info About The Writer

Hi! I’m Alistair— you can call me that, or you can use my username for pretty much everywhere else, TheetyPie/Theety. I don’t mind either way.

I’m a trans guy, I use he/they pronouns. I’m panromantic/asexual, and I’m 27 years old.

I have 3 cats, they’re my babies. I also (as you can tell from above) have a lot of OCs, and the number is still growing. I want to turn my ideas into a bigger creation someday, still not sure exactly where I want to go with it.

I do more than write. I do art, I like video games, music, and just collecting stuff. Current obsessions are Monster High, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, makeup, crystals, and jewelry.

Rules

The most important: I do not RP smut. In the past I’ve used the fade-to-black method, but I’m not entirely comfortable with that with most of my muses.

In the same vein, DO NOT FORCE SHIPS. I love ships as much as the next guy, but I would prefer to discuss it first, or for us to agree on it. It’s cool if your muse has a crush, totally fine— mine get crushes all the time! But make sure if you want to ship, we discuss it first.

In a similar vein to that one as well, no god-modding/powerplaying. If your character is strong, an immortal being, or whatever, cool! I have some of those too. But there should always be a limit. Don’t say your character is moving mine unless we’ve talked about that. Attempt to move them. Usually I follow along as long as boundaries aren’t pushed.

Don’t kill or seriously injure my muse without permission. Fights happen, of course, but again: discussion. I’m up for threads where my canon muses are injured or killed, but not where it happens to my OCs, unless we’re getting into a backstory and another OC that’s already deceased dies. Non-serious injuries are alright to come out of nowhere with, but if it’s a first meeting, I’d prefer to plot it out.

I’m semi-selective. I’m kind of particular about who I follow and who I thread with. I prefer us to be mutuals to thread, but you don’t have to be mutuals to send me things.

I’m very bad at keeping up with people. If you message me and I don’t respond, it’s usually bc I’m shy, I forgot, or I’m busy with work. It’s not you, I promise. Usually I don’t message first bc I’m nervous.

Back to shipping: I’m also multiship. Usually my ships are in different universes, unless discussed with all parties beforehand. The exception is a few of my OCs that are partnered together— ask about their availability. I love random ships, just talk to me about them!

I love duplicates of my muses. Whether it’s “x meets self” or I find someone I share a muse with, I love RPing with just about everyone. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if we have a muse in common!

One of my other most important statements, not really considered a rule, but it’s still important: if you want to know something about any muse, canon or OC, please tell me— ask or message me! I haven’t been able to write down a lot of info about any of them because I’m on mobile, but I will infodump for you if you need/want to know something. I love talking about my children, they’re precious to me.

If you send something in or make something for me when we haven’t even spoken, I might not feel comfortable responding. I’m very shy and nervous about not having any discussion beforehand. 😭

If there’s anything I left out or you need to know, just ask!

[miradanii]

MTMTE/LOST LIGHT First Time Read

Short time text text because it's 4am. I had to finish it...The Lost Light was short and I had 4 chapters left. Had heat exhaustion twice in one week, lack of sleep for days but I couldn't help but finish just so I can go back and reread parts I didn't understand/have an excuse to finally look up this comic without massive spoilers.

I had never read a lot of long ass comics. But wow have I just had a wild ride. I think it took maybe two and half months to read this? Maybe more. One of the few things I had difficulty with reading but pushed through because how captivated I was with the story and its insane cast of characters. I have tons of new favorites I will now create powerpoint slides to present to my friends now on how much I've enjoyed my time with them.

I am so thankful for the internet due to these comics being out of print. And my past self just happening to own volume 1 of Dark Cybertron and never donating it despite not fully understanding what it was until this year. I hope these comics get reprinted one day but I guess for now I'll hunt down copies because I think I want to do these comics a service by having physical copies...

Anyways I 100% recommend this series as a first time reader for reading any Transformers comics. It was pretty difficult at first but I got the hang of it for a while. Not sure it helped that I was already familiar with a lot of the characters already like Rodimus, Megatron, ect. ect. ect.

Here's a link to a reddit post about the order for reading MTMTE/Lost Light. Though, when you come to Dark Cybertron it comes it two volumes so you don't have to switch between MTMTE and RID issues. Like I said I have the physical copy for Volume 1 of Dark Cybertron but mistakenly went back to reading MTMTE and had not realized the issues were alternating.

The reddit post mentions it but I was dumb and didn't fully read it. I just kinda kept going to the next page with a jarring lack of information thinking a lot of stuff was happening off screen.

Immediate ending spoiler nonsense thoughts down below:

Yeah the ending note made me tear up. I am in the mist of consuming a lot of Transformers Media before Transformers One comes out...I had decided to read MTMTE because I think I wanted something that I felt when I watched Transformers Prime. More detail in the characters. I think I flipped when I found out Ratchet who I've seen 3 iterations of on tv has a love interest. Megatron and Optimus have like....just...yeah it's gay. Unhinge divorced but never married gay interactions, then there's more gay, then idk I just started learning more and more about it all from just doing research all for a powerpoint party I hosted and because it was my birthday I was able to go up to 45 minutes due to birthday privileges.

Like I can go from liking Megop to MiniMegs? Is that the ship name? Idk it's almost 5am. But it's not even about pairings at this point, I'm going on an insane fucking adventure. I'm reading this shit in a King's Hawaiian parking lot now being part of my core memory. Actually that part does have a pairing. I'm seeing this:

I went through emotional toil in a restaurant parking lot with my friends to see and not understand the shock I'm having after I get out of the car.

I understand the flowers. That's a fuck ton.

I technically got spoiled about who Rung actually was but it had been so long I actually was STILL shocked when I found out at around 3am. Though...I didn't know he fucking died. Guys he fucking died. I think he came back or its one of his children idk man he fucking died and there's a character with a very similar color palette to him in Cyberverse.

On a random note I guess they weren't that close but Im surprised there wasn't a conversation between Nautica and Chromedome about forgetting Skids in a sense of grief. And it just kinda happened to her...Though I am glad she was still prioritizing Velocity.

Okay so Terminus just dies off screen and Megatron never finds out that he gave him the wrong location?? Damn. But I guess it was no hard feelings when he reunited with the Lost Light so that's all fine and dandy.

This is the one of the few stories where I am proud bullshit with no further explanation reunites tragic lovers. This series lets me live. I mean there was a very simple explanation why Tailgate didn't fade away from Cyclonus' arms but when that moment happened I was like yeah fuck it let them be happy. Of course Kaput was gonna go Kaput but rip can't believe it had to get Tailgate involved.

Ah Anode and Lug were cute! I think it took me a bit to warm up to them but I think I start to like characters when they start having fun dynamics with the rest of the cast. Anode and Swerve pranking each other on the shrinking ship with all hell breaking loose with the rest of the Rod Squad is just...yeah that whole chapter was paced so well.

Okay Whirl didn't just win me over, he snatched my heart and made a clock out of it with his lil pincers. I love this fella. He's such a homie. Top 10 in my list of characters with best character growth.

Okay okay...so the ending right...I knew Ratchet died in the end. Or a portion of the end. But it still caught me off guard. Not to mention I thought Tailgate had died in the end too. I mean it was technically true. But still...ouch. I saw the panel with the Rodimus Star and thought it was so dumb. Had no idea that it was so much more impactful than I thought. Legit before knowing the context I thought Rodimus didn't want to give his most inner energon and gave a Rodimus Star instead. Oops.

I've seen panels of Minimus and Megatron interact and had no idea that it was from the final issue.

5:31am

This series has given me a small portion of joy I couldn't feel for the past few months without it. A boost in creativity and expanding a range of wow that's a lot of fucking insane shit that can happen and still be fun huh?