#i LOVE that stupid shark hat

[camels-pen]

thing i want to draw number ??? - Usopp in his shark hat

Edit: shark hat 1, shark hat 2

[dellinah]

The fcking. Santa hat on the fin

SANTA JAWS (2018) dir. Misty Talley

[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?”

[dvar-trek]

sharks 😭 please tend to nikolai kovalenko. i am writing out notes for u like i'm leaving him at the catsitter's but ugm. i love he.

 ● his dad, andrei kovalenko, was also an av, and was nicknamed "the tank"     ○ kolya is um. not that big yet.     ○ he is still only a jeep (but he plays like he thinks he's a tank)  ● here is what he had to say after his first ever nhl game: "everyone's so big. i try to hit but they not falling"  ● the avs traded his dad away in december 1995 in exchange for a goalie (patrick roy). so i guess they can bond over that ?  ● he was born in raleigh, north carolina, while his dad was playing for the canes (i just think that's neat)     ○ they moved back to russia when he was only 2 though  ● his english is not the best yet, and the guys don't always understand him, but he's still never not yapping  ● on being ready for the first day of school the new season: “I play only 200%, not less, because it’s my favorite game in the world. First thing - work. Second thing - fun, enjoy the game.”  ● through pre-season and the start of the season, when the avs were all playing like shit every night, kolya was stepping up     ○ he does make. um. mistakes. sometimes     ○ like for example, his first nhl game was during the playoffs and he made a panic bad decision that led to a goal against (iirc)     ○ media asked the hc what he should do instead in that situation     ○ answer: "well, he can't do that."     ○ he's making enormous progress though. making better decisions all the time. and the skill is definitely there. he is going to be. so fucking good.  ● his wife is uhm. very beautiful 😳 and they have a tiny adorable stupid dog named Teddy  ● the avs made him wear the giant hat (player of the game item) when he got his first nhl goal     ○ and yes, that picture is framed in his home with the puck

pplease i hope that you will love and cherish him 🥺 he is my most favorite rookie. don'tt forget to water him, and call me if he scores a goal, okay?

[baldval]

okay so who here remembers Vark vox’s ADORABLE 😍 dog like shark pet? Well what about a reader x Vox where Vox was taking vark out for a walk and vark managed to get loose and Vox is freaking out but fortunately find vark playing and slobbering on reader is is now also in love with the adorable dog like shark and then Vox and reader fall in love thanks to vark. Kinda like the beginning of 101 dalmation. either way I love vark and find him absolutely adorable and hope to find more Vox x reader that includes some vark because I love both of them 🥰

ROGER MEETS ANITA!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox x gn!reader

wc: 741

warnings: curse words, SLIGHT gore

"Vox could you please take care of your fucking beast?" Velvette shouts from the living room. "I swear that thing just won't stop barking."

"What even is that? Why is a shark fucking barking?" Val adds. That's when Vox goes out of his office, rolling his eyes.

"We are literally in hell. You are basically a moth and your question is why a shark can bark?" Vox walks over to the closet were he keeps Vark's leash. It's a crimson red with small lightnings in blue colour.

"You know we can hire someone to do that for you right?" Valentino asks, serving himself a cup of a pink liquid Vox can't bother to know what it is.

"Oh let him be. You know he likes to do it." Velvette answers, defending Vox.

"I'm just saying, if it's bothering us, we should be able to do something about it." Valentino walks over towards Vox. "Like, I don't know, using our money to make someone take him out for a walk?"

"It's my shark and I choose what to do with it." Vox straps the leash on Vark's collar. "Now piss off and let me leave."

"I'm just saying what I think, having that thing is stupid." Vox glares at him before opening the door and basically running through the stairs, Vark's strength pulling him. "Vark, come on. Take it easy! What's all the hurry?"

Vark looks around the area and sees something that resembled a pigeon eating what seemed to be some sinners insides. He runs towards it, basically carrying Vox with him. "Seriously Vark, slow down." Vark doesn't do that.

"You know what. It's over." He pulls Vark and ties him up to a bench. He shakes some of the dirt he catched from running off his suit before sitting down, not noticing the person besides him.

"Oh." You say. The dog-like shark had grabbed your hat and was currently playing with it. Vox turns to look at you, and then to Vark.

"Oh come on, Vark, not again."

"Again?" You chuckle, amused at the situation.

Vox grunts as he tries to force the hat out of the shark's mouth.

"I'm... So... So..." He says between groans. "Sorry!" Vox finally manages to take it out of Vark's mouth, however, a small piece of the hat is ripped. "You're kidding? Please pardon me, I-" He turns to look at you, but stops talking as soon as his eyes meet yours.

You're laughing, he likes your laugh.

"Oh it's okay, don't worry" You say, smiling at him "I didn't even like it that much anyway."

He seems surprised by your words, still staring at you.

"Oh no, really, please allow me to repay you in some way." His demeanour suddenly changing as he grins. "Vark has been such a bad boy today."

"Really. I don't mind. It's just a hat." Vox tsks as he stands up and gets closer to you.

"Oh, no, no, no, my Vark can't just destroy such a beautiful person's hat and get away with it, oh no." He's now smirking, and you can't help but chuckle as you look away.

"Genuinely, don't worry. I love... pets!" You crouch in order to pet the shark.

"Don't!" He shouts. "He-" Vox stops his sentence as he sees the way Vark is just slobbering all over you, your hands scratching his ears as he pretty much smiled.

You turn to look at him, not stopping your actions. "Is something wrong?"

"Umm... not really... It's just that, Vark tends to electrocute strangers." He says, still in awe of what's happening before him.

"Really? He seems like such a sweetheart." You smile, looking at the shark.

Vox bends down beside you, joining you in your game with Vark.

After a while, he turns to look at you, your faces a lot closer than what Vox expected.

"No, but really. Please let me do something to pay you back for the hat." He stands up, offering you his hand for help, which you gladly take. "You must want something."

"I mean... what could you offer me?" It's your turn to smirk.

Vox doesn't miss the flirting and smirks back.

"Well... There's this restaurant that I truly love. And..." He's now staring at your eyes as you try not to blush. "I think you'll love it too."

Maybe Vark was annoying sometimes, but it was totally worth it in Vox's eyes if it meant that he was going on a date with you.

[vibratingskull]

heloorrrrr! Can i request thrawn x female reader where both of them been in relationship secretly (because both of them want it to be privacy) and during in their relationship there will be third person trying to steal thrawn away from reader?Someone high ranks as him ya know, anyone, maybe pryce! hehe. And ohhh how many times she wanted to flirt with thrawn and such things and those attempts failed. Reader then noticing about this and she felt hurt when someone trying to steal her partner away from her. Reader then arguing with thrawn about this matter but thrawn only loves her and only her. Reader then feel so insecure about herself and cries when they were arguing. Thrawn then comfort her and soon or later he couldn't hold his patience and anger any longer and comfront pryce about it saying that he already have a lover and he love her very much. Reader was also there witnessing all this.

Thrawn Cheating ?! Homegirl reader should know better 😤!!! Thrawn is devoted to his woman only!

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags : Angst/comfort, argument, comforting Thrawn, hugs and kisses, Pryce aimed too high and Thrawn shot that down

You check your hairstyle rapidly, flatten your beautiful new dress, and head toward the large doors. You internally squeal with glee! Thrawn was invited to another Imperial Gala and as usual, he was not looking forward to it! 

But it is also his Grand Admiral’s duty to perform in socialite parties to meet and mingle with politicians and gain support and new fundings. You discreetly observed him dressing up in his pristine white uniform, eyes fixed on the mirror, checking his attire. His eyes slowly lowered as he closed his collar, silent witness to his reluctance to go to that party! 

You kept your mouth shut and pretended to prepare yourself to go to bed, your new dress in a suit bag under your shared bed. You awaited one hour after his departure and prepared yourself to surprise him. 

You smile like a child. Surprising your lover in a fancy dress, illuminating his dim soiree to make it special and sweet... What’s more romantic than saving your lover and providing support? 

You hand your invitation you paid top credit for and the doors open wide for you, letting escape refined music and the scent of pricey champagne. Top hats from the entire Empire, Alien diplomats, Governors, and Officers from the Navy and the army mix with Celebrities, Singers, and Great Magnates! A lot of great people surrounder insignificant you with your small rank of Commander. But you do not care this time because you are only here for your Chiss, to surprise him and alleviate his burden for several hours. You refrain from another giggle as you imagine the scene like a sappy romantic comedy. 

Your beloved Thrawn, forsaken to a buffet table, observing all those peoples negotiating politics with false smiles and kowtowing with his glass of alcohol barely touched. How isolated he must feel, feeling the gazes of jealousy and disdain at his alienness, surrounded by snakes and sharks he cannot comprehend, the camera spinning around him as he remains still. He appears confident and assured in his solitude but one zoom in the depths of his burning eyes reveals that he would rather be anywhere else than here. 

Then, pan of the camera, the entire room gets dark as a single spot of light illuminates you in your dazzling dress, peacefully walking toward him with a comforting smile and your hand extends to him. He immediately abandons his glass on the table to join you and kiss your hand reverently before embracing your body in a melodramatic hug... 

Finally reunited! 

In the end, you cannot refrain your giggling. This is so stupid and cheezy, but that’s why it’s so good! You wipe off a single tear of laughter from the corner of your eyes and focus on the faces in the crowd. Finding a tall Chiss should be easy enough... 

You cross the room, looking at all the people, getting on your tip toes, squeezing yourself between different groups, saying sorry to anyone you inadvertently push over, and resuming your search. 

You find your Chiss in an unexpected place, on the dancefloor. He towers over everyone else and his bright white uniform almost shines under the lights. You approach more and realize he is dancing with someone. 

Thrawn waltzing with a partner? That’s unheard of!  

Even you have difficulties convincing him to dance with you! Whoever his partner be, they must be influential enough to propel his Tie Defender program, you rationalize. You finally pass the last ring of observers to enter the edge of the dancing floor, ready to wave to you beloved and see his eyes sparkling while he keeps his stern expression in check. 

But 

What you see froze you down to your core. 

Cupping Thrawn’s cheeks fondly and pressing herself against his tall stature, Governor Pryce and him are entangled into a passionate tango, her naked leg locking with his, pressing their hips tight together. 

You’re frozen still, shocked beyond words. 

You knew they worked closely as you saw her exiting his different offices on multiple occasions, but... Have you been led on by the nose all this time? You cannot believe Thrawn would tolerate such demeanors, you never dared such explicit moves with him but they are visibly past that stage! 

You avert your gaze when she gets on her tip toes to kiss him. 

You... You cannot see that, you would die of heartbreak. 

Without any words and looks back, you flee the scene, your heart behind your lips 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Your brain is scrambled, the only thoughts formulating in your mind among the white noise are these cursed images of them embracing each other on the dancefloor. The last weeks turn around in your head, all the small words, the little glances, all those reunions where there were only the two of them...  

For how long has this been going? And why cheat? You never thought Thrawn would be wicked enough to do such a thing, you always assumed that if something displeased him in your relationship he would tell you! 

Like the honest man, you thought he was! 

But... 

You refrain from sobbing, your knees pressed against your chest to muffle your bleeding heart, sitting on the edge of your bed... 

You started to speak about Marriage... His eyes illuminated when you mentioned maybe a baby one day... 

Silent tears roll down your cheeks, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs. You shudder at the sound of the apartment’s door. Thrawn just came home... 

“Ch’acah? Why are you still up, my love?” He asks, entering your bedroom. 

Did... Did he invite her to your apartment while you were away? Did they sleep in your bed? Was she the only one? 

“This is a beautiful dress. You must look ravishing in it, why is it on the floor?” You hear him walking around the bedroom, taking his boots and jacket off and you hear him grab the dress off the floor to contemplate it. 

“Ch’acah?” He insists gently with his rich voice, stabbing your heart even more. 

You imagine him whispering in her ear with that voice... 

You recoil back at the sudden feeling of his hand on your shoulder; 

“Don’t touch me!” You shout, heart pierced, “Do not... Touch me!” You slide on the edge of the bed to put some distance between your two. 

He retracts his hand immediately, blinking in surprise. 

“Ch’acah? Is there a problem?” 

“Do NOT call me Ch’acah, traitor!” You spit, feeling fury drying your tears and blinding you. 

Thrawn stands back straight, contemplating you from all his height. You remain still, knees pressed against your chest, eyes fixed right ahead, your blood boiling. He remains silent, gulping once but remaining stern and assured. 

Deadly conscious that this bedroom that was once your cozy nest is now a battlefield. 

He walks away, tidying up the dress neatly in the closet, and closes it shut. He enters the bathroom and you hear the sink pouring water, finally reappearing with his face and hair wet, a towel hanging from his neck. 

He leans his back against the wall in front of you with a deep breath, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“I am listening.” He simply says with an infuriating placid tone. 

You growl. 

“This is not a valid argument.” He counters in the same tone. 

You grab a pillow behind you and throw it at his face rageously. He evades easily. 

“Traitor!” You seethe. 

“Again with the ‘Traitor’. Will you explain yourself or should I interro-” 

“I saw you with her!” You explode, “All lovey-dovey in each others arms! It was repulsive!” 

He frowns, his magnificent brain working at max speed. It takes him less than a second to understand, letting escape a long sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“You misinterpreted what you saw.” 

“It left very little to interpretation.” 

“You must let me explain.” 

“Save your breath, it makes you look even more ridiculous.” You dig your nails in your thigh, feeling a drop of warm blood running against your skin, “I cannot believe you, you of all people, would drop so low...” 

Thrawn snarls and appoach. 

“Look at me.” 

You bury your face behind your knees. 

“You cannot do that, throwing our entire story away and not even let me explain.” 

“You did it all by yourself!” You bite. 

“(Y/n), look at me!” He orders, grabbing your arm in his large hand. 

You try to slap or push him away but he grabs the other arm. You struggle together until he ends up on top of you, your arms pinned on each side of your head and Thrawn looking the most furious you ever saw him. 

“I will not let you destroy everything between us.” He growls, “Not without giving my version first.” 

You snarl, feeling new tears rolling down as you press your cheek against the mattress to not look into his flaming gaze. 

“(Y/n), Ch’acah... You are hurting yourself, let me explain everything, listen to me, my love...” He whispers softly. 

“I hate you!” You close your eyes shut furiously as tears escape you. 

You feel him releasing your wrists to snake his arms under your back to lift you up. You struggle again but end up on his lap as he holds you close against him. 

“Release me!” You cry harder, but he holds you firmly. 

“No.” He simply responds, “I will hold you close until you are finished crying. We both need to calm down and hear each other.” He arguments. 

You try to get off but he has way more strength than you. Instead, one of his hands raises up to caress your hair tenderly as he kisses your temple fondly. Your mind flashes with the vision of him kissing her with those same luscious lips, making you yelp in pain. He presses his cheek against the top of your head and starts cradling you gently. 

“I will listen and respond to any griefs you might have, but first you need to let your heart calm down, ch’eo Ch’acah....” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“... And I do not think it was a good idea.” Pryce finishes haughtily, sitting in front of him. 

Thrawn observes his datapad’s screen and the results of his tactics. 

“I must disagree, it worked as I intended it too. I collected all the data necessary for the next grand assault on their base.” He puts it down to type on his terminal. 

“If you say so...” She sighs. 

He keeps typing, ignoring the woman in front of him. He is too professional to make a scene but he still did not digest her stunts during the gala. He left things slide because she was drunk and even made sure she came home safely, but jeopardizign his relationship with his Ch’acah like that! 

She almost managed to kiss him! He was taken by surprise and almost did not cover her mouth in time but he managed to pull away and save himself. All that circus to be greeted by his angry and devastated Ch’acah at the apartment.  

He could only think of you while dancing with Pryce at the Gala and was dying to snuggle in your embrace in bed after that fiasco, only to come home to you in tears, furious, wounded... 

He genuinely does not know what he would have done if you broke up with him right there and there! He could have come home to empty closets and a single Goodbye note on the tea table... He came so close to a catastrophe. 

But he held you close, soothing you, hearing your arguments, and calmly responded to each of them until you accepted to forgive him and give him a second chance. And this time he will be much more careful to snakes surrounding him! 

Pryce stands up and just... Sits down on his desk, leaning forward, tilting his head toward her with a grin. 

“Refrain yourself.” He recommands, “We are working.” 

“You are always so serious, Grand Admiral. What do you do to relax?” 

“This is my business, and not for you to worry.” He counters, taking her hands off his chin, refraining from a shiver of... revulsion. 

Who does she think she is exactly? 

Only you, his Ch’acah, are allowed to touch him in such ways! And she doesn’t have alcohol to protect her this time! 

“I could help you relax in many different ways...” She insists, leaning forward, her blue eyes fixed on his lips. 

His frowns at her daring advances, almost impressed by her attitude. But there is one person in is heart, and only one, for the rest of his entire life! 

“Grand Admiral, I brought you the-” You pass the door and stop yourself dead before the scene. 

They both turn towards you, Pryce visibly annoyed and him with silent satisfaction in his heart. He will end it all now! 

“We are occupied, soldier.” She snarls, “You are interrupting something.” 

“You are interrupting nothing, Commander (F/n).” Thrawn coldly responds, standing up and escaping Pryce’s grip, “You arrived right on time. I wanted to introduce you.” 

You press your datapad against your chest in a soothing manner, Thrawn sees the doubts flourishing in your gorgeous eyes once more, but he is here to kill them for good. He skirts his desk and comes next to you, grabs your hand, and tenderly kisses your knuckles. 

“Governor Pryce, I want you to properly meet (Y/n) (F/n), Commander of the Chimaera and the love of my life.” He drops with the most casual tone ever, holding your hip to press you against him gently, “Soon to be my wife and, I hope most ardently, mother of our future children.” 

Pryce is still slumping on the desk, frowning more and more as you look at Thrawn with round eyes. He never explicitly expressed his enthusiasm at the idea of marrying you and starting a family with you, and you expected him to do it in the privacy of your apartment. 

But he did it in front of someone else. 

Pryce looks at you both, more and more furious as her cheeks become red. 

“You are fighting a lost battle, Governor. I doubt anyone but (Y/n) can bring into my life the peace and security she provides. I will therefore invite you to keep your hands to yourself and not bring more shame upon yourself already.” He continues. 

She shrugs with an angry grin and jumps on her feet, taking specks of dust off her uniform with a haughty expression. 

“I do not know what you think I tried to do, but I wish you the best, you are very touching together!” The tone is sweet and dripping with venom when she says ‘touching’. 

She raises her head with disdain and passes you both without a glance. 

“I expect better results for the next battle, Grand Admiral.” She proclaims exiting the office. 

“You will be more than satisfied, Governor, me and Commander (F/n) are taking care of everything.” He lets her now, his blazing gaze burning the back of her neck. 

She stops, rolling her hand into a fist and you think she is going to spin and start a scene but she just tuts and walks away with the rest of her dignity. 

“Your arrival was most timely, Ch’acah.” Thrawn kisses your knuckles again, “You saved me from an uncomfortable situation.”  

“Was that true? What you said about the marriage and children?” You cannot help but ask. 

Thrawn contemplates you sternly before softening his expression with a smile, intertwining your fingers together, his other hand still holding your hip gently. 

“But of course, Ch’acah. I will be the most blessed man alive if you accept to become my wife and start a family with me, you are the most dear to my heart.” 

He observes your face getting red in his infrared vision as fire spreads on your cheeks. This is such a beautiful sight to witness, he thinks to himself. 

“But I need to respect conventions and make a real demand before you answer me, Ch’acah. But it has been on my mind for a long, long time...” 

And to seal his words he lowers himself and captures your lips for a tender kiss, full of promises and wonders for your future together... 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174 @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje @helrose8

[formula-fun]

hello dear, do you think we can get a little snippet from the if i had words sequel? ☺️ you confirming that there’s actually a sequel happening made my whole week. 🩷

hellooooo my dear! yes you may <333 i think i owe you a long one since it's going to be a bit of a wait--can't remember if i posted this one before but here you go!

IV. THING ONE AND THING TWO // WOULD YOU LOVE ME IF I WAS ANYTHING BUT WHAT I AM?

A scorpion asks a frog to carry it across the river. The frog hesitates, fearing that the scorpion will sting it, but the scorpion tells the frog not to worry because if the scorpion stung the frog it would doom them both. The frog agrees and allows the scorpion to sit upon its back. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog. 

“Why did you do that?” the frog asks as they both begin sinking into the water.

The scorpion replies, “it’s in my nature.” 

“That’s a stupid story,” Max says, biting at his thumb nail. Beside him, Victoria is dead asleep. 

Sophie gently removes his thumb from his mouth. “Ah, do we need to paint this again?” 

“No,” he huffs. He sits on his hand. “It’s a stupid story. The frog should have known.” 

“Well, that’s the moral. Cruel people will always behave in cruel ways. We can’t expect them to be any different.” 

“But the scorpion isn’t cruel. It’s like when I got stung by a bee, and dad said it wasn’t the bee’s fault because flowers are for bees so I shouldn’t go in them.”  

Sophie purses her lips. “Well, it was a mistake. You didn’t know there were bees in the flowers.” 

“Oh.” He turns that over. “So it’s the frog’s fault? Because it should know the scorpion can sting?” 

She’s silent for a long beat. “It’s nobody’s fault,” she says at last, her voice firm. She closes the book. “Enough stories, hmm?” 

“I’m not tired yet.” 

“No? Are you hungry? We still have some treats from grandma.” 

And just like that the story was swept clean out of his head. 

Years later, he met Charles. 

Years later, sweeping around karting tracks was already old hat. He bumped wheels and pushed other children off, and he saw them cry to their parents about it after, and he didn’t feel a thing. It sucked sometimes, the way they treated him after, but he didn’t mind it that much. That was racing; that was life. If they couldn’t handle it, that wasn’t really his problem. 

Charles pushed him off the track. 

Max shoved him, and Charles shoved back. Charles drove him into puddles and across muddy strips of grass; Charles drove over Max’s tires and across his front wing and smiled about it after. Max gave as good as he got, and he didn’t feel any particular way about it until the third time it happened, when Charles took his helmet off and stood on the second step of the podium and looked a little bored and a little irritated; he was standing above Max that day, but he still hadn’t won. 

Oh, Max had thought, and something slotted into place in the back of his head—something strange, something unusual. Oh. It’s in your nature.

He understands Charles, now. Beautiful creature; unstoppable thing, formed out of the same stuff that Max is. Charles is a shark in bright red water: to stop moving is to stop breathing. Max is holding his breath, these days. He’s holding his breath, and holding his daughter. He’s making bottles and reading storybooks and when he lays down in bed at night every muscle is tense until he gets up the next morning—every muscle like a spring, waiting for the gun to go off so that he can run and run and run until he reaches wherever it is that Charles is in the world. 

“I miss you,” Charles tells him on the phone. Max had seen him win in Baku earlier that day. He’d held the trophy high on the podium and Max had pointed to the television and said that’s Mama, and Julie had squirmed and laughed at Max but not looked where he was pointing. 

“I wanna come home. I miss you so bad. I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes. I can’t sleep at all, I just want to be around you and Julie.”

“Yeah?” Max murmurs. He’s laying on the couch, his head against the arm. Julie is on his chest with one thumb in her mouth, and when he cranes his neck he can kiss her head and smell her strawberry baby shampoo. “I miss you too.” 

“What do you miss the most?” 

“Just having you around. Hearing you in the other room. Knowing you’re close by.” His throat feels tight; he swallows hard against the feeling. 

The line crackles as Charles breathes, even and slow. “If you close your eyes right now is it just like I’m there?” he says quietly. 

He thinks about doing it for a beat, but can’t; he can’t imagine the feeling of the illusion shattering when Charles hangs up. “Charles, come on,” he says, and his voice sounds pinched even to his own ears. 

“Max.” 

He clears his throat; settles his hand on Julie’s back and rubs little circles, over and over. “Tell me about the race,” he says instead. “You did—after the first stop you were doing such a late apex for a while into turn 1, but that’s so hard on the new tires when they’re not in the window.” 

“The sun was setting. There was a cool patch of pavement on the outside that made it easier,” Charles says. “Max, I’ll be home so soon.” 

“Did that work though? Even on hards? I have had that work on mediums, but you run the risk of so much spin there.” 

“I short-shifted.” 

“To get more heat into the rears?

“I know this is hard for you, baby,” Charles rushes out, and Max’s breath stalls in his throat. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“But you know it’s okay, right? I miss you and I’m coming right back as soon as I can. I’m going to try for tomorrow, okay? I know it hurts right now, but we’re always a family even when we’re not together. I’m always coming back. Whenever I’m away from you I’m trying to find a way back to you.” 

Max’s eyes burn. He breathes very slowly and very shallowly. His lips wobble, so he presses them together. His throat aches, so he clenches his jaw until he doesn’t feel it. 

“Do you understand?” Charles says. He sounds broken. “I’m coming right back.” 

His lungs stinging, he takes a breath finally. It’s tight and uneven, more like the inhale before a sob.

[this-is-fox-speaking]

FANTOCCIO FACTS POST (from screenshots i found in my own interests server)

- His name is italian for puppet, but he pronounces it incorrectly and insists it’s the correct way to say his name if anyone else points it out and says he’s wrong.

- He’s not from Italy, obviously. Goes to show. But Ash imagines he knows a bit of italian. (“Not enough Italian to say his name right.” - Katie.)

- Fantoccio has a pet shark named Sharkspeare! Mentioned in the song at the line “‘Cause Sharkspeare’s looking mean!”

- Fantoccio has to make all his own props, set pieces, clothes, etc in the theatre.

- Would never smoke, and would hate being around it/people who’re doing it actively.

- Fantoccio was made by Ash as a fan OC for the game, and this (as far as I’m aware) is what got them hired onto the game, cause Katie loved their ideas so much.

- Fantoccio is not very good with kids.

- Fantoccio’s favorite food is churros. This came from the fact Ash once had a dream about him infodumping about them cause he loved them so much, so they made it canon.

- Don’t worry, he can indeed taste things normally. No traditional taste buds, but some, nonetheless. Same goes for touch!

- Fantoccio is canonically autistic, having many traits of himself heavily projected from Ash, themself.

- When asked what his meltdown triggers could be, Ash thought that some might be: too much touching, being without his hat, or one of his props breaking.

- Fantoccio likes wearing dresses! Wears them if he feels like it or if the role calls for it, during a play.

- Ash thinks he’d ADORE snow.

- Fantoccio would 100% love spicy italian from subway.

- Fantoccio plays violin!

- Fantoccio would chant “I’m sleeping” when struggling to fall asleep, like his own version of counting sheep.

- He would NEVER say the Earth is flat.

- He’d be the “How do you do that” of that one keysmash meme, if paired with Barnaby.

- Ash once said that Fantoccio is like Duck from Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.

- When doing a personality type test (and actually answering truthfully instead of in character) for Fantoccio, he ended up with ENTJ-T, Commander. Fanto would answer untruthfully on some questions, like if he ever gets insecure (“PFFFT NO THE ANSWERS NO”).

- He can go uwu in the bbu lore, but he’ll hate it. (“THIS IS STUPID!!!”)

- Fantoccio would apparently be a “mac and cheese FIEND.”

- He’d hate pranks (specifically a hand zapper in this case), because they’re unexpected. (“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”)

- This also means he’d never troll anyone, cause he feels above that.

- Fanto would HATE hearing people crack their knuckles, like Ash does.

- Fantoccio loves to carve wood. Specifically only by hand, that’s how much he loves it! He carved the two giant wooden hands used in his battle, but his favorite thing to carve is ducks.

- Fantoccio is very intent on ONLY eating the few foods he knows he likes.

- If he were an ice cream, he’d be coffee flavor! Which is ironic, because Ash has also said that it’d probably be terrible to give Fantoccio caffeine.

- Fantoccio would LOVE chicken nuggets.

- Hates pizza, though. Too greasy and messy.

- Would enjoy having an ipad “a little too much. He would be super confused at first but once he learns how to use it DO NOT TAKE IT AWAY”. (kinda like Peridot from Steven Universe)

- He would like spruce wood in Minecraft, but also acacia “just to look at.”

- Ash adores pirates, so so does Fantoccio!

- He has no nose, so no sneezes!

- Appreciates detail as much as Barnaby does.

- Fanto would love birds!

- Fanto is not capable of curse words. Sad.

- Fantoccio would COLLAPSE trying to lift someone without his powers.

- He stims by patting his face and spinning around. Fidgets with his hands in concepts for his standing idle animations, because he’s uncomfortable with standing and prefers floating.

- He’d favor Murder Mystery!

- His wood is alive and can grow like a real boy! (if you’ve seen my post being reblogged around, lol)

- He lives in the lost city of magic, which is abandoned and overrun my magical zombies who used to be magic users, now with a terrible curse. So he lives mainly in his theatre. He’s not trapped, anymore, like his old story!

- Fantoccio’s powers are based around telekinesis and teleportation. It’s how he moves his body around!

- He used to have a plush toy rabbit he carried around, when he was younger, seemingly. It’s unclear where that went, when he got older.

- Fantoccio’s been locked up in this city for 15 years, since he was 8. Completely isolated (save for those zombies, I suppose)! When Billie comes along, though, he’s so excited to have something new to play with!

- Fanto’s song is inspired by Weird Al. Like 90% of this game is, of course /lh. He was also inspired by the pied piper!

- He’d dislike the idea of seafood. (“He’d be like “Why would anyone want to eat a fish?!” And cover Sharkspeare’s nonexistent ears like “Don’t listen to them!””)

- The red feather in his hat is also used as a pen!

- Fantoccio is a being of pure magic, having an entire magic gem be his whole life source. This means he can use magic endlessly without getting tired (I believe)!

- Fantoccio is 23, he/him, and pansexual.

- His face is made using magic. It disappears when/if he’s magic-less.

- Fantoccio can absolutely feel pain.

- When it comes to nature, Ash said he’d kinda be like Rarity from MLP:FiM, but certain kinds of nature he’d still really love. He’d really dislike walking through the wild or camping in general, but loves things like snow or flower fields. Just depends!

- Fantoccio would main Bowser in Mario Kart.

-In terms of favorite Halloween treats, Fantoccio would like anything chewy and fruity (no chocolate)!

- Canonically wears eyeliner.

- Magic sparks from his fingertips when he’s very excited!

- If Fantoccio was an animal, Ash says he’d be a cat.

- No traditional gross human stuff inside him like others, just wood and sap. “Whatever trees do.”

- His original concept by Ash was him having a purple phantom head, being a ghost in a puppet’s body. This was changed by Katie, I believe.

(feel free to add on if I missed anything! i’ll edit this post if i randomly remember something)

[sleepybabybees]

Time for more shenanigans because I enjoy doing these-

Honestly- expect everyone at this point-

---

Price: Are you a painting?

Nik: What-?

Price: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Graves: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG HIM OR SOMETHING-

---

Price: Two years ago, I married my best friend.

Price: Graves is still mad about it, but me and Nik were drunk and thought it was funny.

---

Price: Are you ready to commit?

Nik: Like, a crime or a relationship?

---

Price: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Laswell: ...I'm gonna kill him-

Nik: katie- no-

---

Laswell: Caw caw, motherfuckers.

---

Laswell: Where the devil is Graves?

Nik: Well, it is raining outside... Maybe he melted?

Price: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?

Laswell holding back a laugh: I hate that I found that funny- fuck you-

---

Price: Are you good?

Laswell: In what sense?

Price: Generally.

Laswell: Oh, definitely not.

---

Price: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Price, points at Nik: Married a lesbian.

Price, points at Graves: Left a man at the altar.

Price, points at Ghost: Fell in love with a Scottish soldier

Price, points at Laswell: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire.

Price, points at Soap: Lives in a box!

---

Graves: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Nik: >:O language

Laswell: Yeah watch your fucking language

Ghost: Okay, who taught Laswell the fuck word?!

Price: 'The fuck word'.

Soap: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Laswell: Oh my god they censored it

Price: Say fuck, Soap.

Laswell: Do it, Soap. Say fuck.

---

Ghost: If I fall…

Price: I’ll be there to catch you.

Nik: *looks at Graves* What if I fall?

Graves: Then I’ll fall with you, never leaving your side.

Soap: *watches these two interactions*

Soap, to Laswell: And if I fall?

Laswell: I’ll be the one who pushed you.

---

Nik: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

Laswell: No.

Gaz: I did not.

Ghost: I may have actually forgotten one.

Soap: Also no.

Nik: Oh good, neither did I.

Price: *Exhausted sigh*

---

Alex: I never said I was gonna get back together with them. But I was thinking, they're in town, would it be the worst thing in the world if I gave them a call?

Alejandro: No. No, Alex, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would be the fourth worst thing. Number one: a super volcano. Number two: an asteroid hits the Earth. Number three: All the Evel Knievel movies are lost. Number four: Alex calls Farah. Number five: Rudy gets eaten by a shark.

Rudy: I’m Rudy, and I approve the order of that list.

---

Rudy: Farah, I have a couple of words to say to you.

Alex: Please let those two words be “I’m sorry.”

Alejandro: I’m ready with the bleep button if not.

---

Rudy: Those darn tall old people.

Farah: Darn em' indeed.

Alex: Don't worry, they'll be gone soon enough.

Alejandro: *sharpening knife* Yes. Dead.

The Squad:

Alejandro: Hahaha.

Alejandro: ...Is this self-destructive behaviour?

---

Alejandro: That's ridiculous, Rudy doesn't have a crush on me.

Farah: Yes, he does.

Alex: Yes, he does.

Valeria: Yes, he does.

Rudy: Yes, I do.

---

Alex: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Rudy, exasperated: WHY?!?

Rudy points at Alejandro: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Rudy points at Farah: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Rudy points at Alex: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Rudy: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

---

Rudy: Hey Farah, wanna third wheel on my date with Alejandro tomorrow?

Farah: Sure.

Rudy: Alex! Wanna third wheel on my date with Alejandro tomorrow?

Rudy: Great! I've always wanted to go on a double date!

Farah &amp; Alex: ...

Alejandro: Rudy...

---

Alejandro: I love you.

Rudy: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Alejandro and Rudy kiss passionately*

Alex, to Farah: You owe me 20 dollars.

---

Alex: *tapping fingers on table*

Rudy: *taps fingers back furiously*

Farah: …What’s going on?

Alejandro: Morse code. They’re talking.

Alex: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -

Rudy: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

---

Alejandro: Why are your tongues purple?

Alex: We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Farah: I had a red one.

Alejandro: oh.

Alejandro:

Alejandro: OH.

Rudy:

Rudy: You drank eachothers slushies?

---

Soap: Why is Gaz crying on the floor?

Ghost: he's drunk.

Soap: And?

Ghost: he saw a picture of Roach's husband.

Soap: But he's Roach's husband?

Ghost: I know.

---

Ghost, referring to Roach and Gaz: Those guys are dorks.

Soap: Yes, but they’re our dorks.

---

Soap: Who would you swipe right for? Gaz or Ghost?

Roach : I would delete the app.

---

Soap: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Gaz: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Ghost: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Roach : My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

---

Roach : How is the most beautiful person in the world?

Gaz: *blushing* I—

Ghost, butting into the conversation: Soap is perfect, thanks for asking.

---

Eskell: You really believe in Shepard?

Oryn: Mmm… Luckily, he believes in himself enough for the both of us.

---

Shephard: Is this your plan B?

Eskell: Technically, this is plan P.

Shephard: Plan P? Is there a plan M?

Eskell: Yes, but I marry Oryn in plan M.

Oryn: I like plan M.

---

Shephard: *Reading a letter*

Oryn: Well, what does it say?

Shephard: It’s a confession letter. It turns out Eskell killed my pet rock.

---

Oryn, about Eskell: Can I tell them they look nice?

Shephard: Sure.

Oryn: Can I tell them I respect them?

Shephard: Maybe, if they ask.

Oryn: Should I show them an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs?

Shephard: …

Shephard: I’d save that for later.

---

Eskell: *pitches an idea*

Shephard, impressed: Huh, there might be something here!

Oryn, under their breath and dialling laswell: Yeah, a lawsuit.

---

Horangi : That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Konig?

Konig: No.

Horangi : I think I speak for Konig when I say it sounds really super.

---

Konig: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers?

Horangi : Peonies, why?

Konig:

Horangi : Were you going to get me flowers?

Konig:

Horangi :

Konig: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

---

Horangi : I want a bf.

Konig: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

---

Konig: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Horangi : Okay.

Konig: And make out during the scary parts.

Horangi : Th-

Horangi : The scary parts.

Horangi : Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

---

Horangi , taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child.

Konig, entering the room with a small cut on their ankle: Who the f-

[zankydraws]

You got any Wekiddy headcannons? Especially for MJ?

idk if these count as hcs or not but I might have some!

MJ 182: - he's a shapeshifting alien. idk what his true form would be yet but I want to draw it someday, I'd go with some sort of anthro reptile/shark mix probably - a bit of an asshole, likes to cause problems on purpose (his main goal is pissing off El Cool P) - loves pop-punk (bruh MJ makes me wish there was an actual pop-punk version of Incredibox where he's the main character..) - he thinks Xenomorph is a hottie.. (dfkgjhdfks) - I like to think he's a good artist, specifically good at spray painting (and he uses his talent to destroy public property or El Cool P's belongings) - definitely the most rebellious guy in the group - hates to dress up - can and will bite people (mostly Cool P)

El Cool P: - huge ego. absolutely massive - probably commits crimes (loves arson) - idk there's something wrong with him - would do good stuff for people (like giving money to charity) just to make himself feel better and make people love him more - uses his good looks and charm to his advantage - if he wants something, he WILL get it - probably has tons of merch with his own stupid face on it (he owns an El Cool Shirt and an El Cool Plushie for sure) - owns like millions of suits (and matching bucket hats) - argues with MJ all the time - a terrible driver (don't get into a car with him) (how did he even get a driving license?)

KC Glow: - precious baby boy, an absolute angel - looooong sleeves - does the excited flappy hand thing a lot - can actually glow in the dark, somehow - has freckles! - you could probably pick him up and carry him around and he would be chill about it

ASAP Bee: - looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill you - loves bees, they are his best buddies - probably stores bees in his fanny pack - if you hurt/kill a bee, he will beat the shit out of you - seriously don't mess with him and his bee friends - loves bee memes, puns and everything bee related - owns a machine gun (this one is ridiclous but some people call him a machine gun guy and it made me think that it would be funny if he actually owned a gun. so don't mess with his bees unless you want a bullet in your butt) - absolutely loves honey, he's obsessed with it, always carries a bottle/jar of honey around

Big Duke: - looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll - a very chill and nice guy - always ready to help! - I like to think he's a little chubby - short king

Swingy: - works out a lot, he's very fit and pretty strong - I talked about this some time ago but he gives me the 80's fitness instructor vibes so he can probably teach people how to work out properly and dance - kinda stupid but he's very nice! :D - loves food and eats all the time - likes his hair a lot and doesn't want anyone touching it - generally likes to look pretty

Blue GT: - kind of a bitch - has heterochromia (I drew him with different eye colors once and loved the idea a lot lol) - he's sooo tired of hearing MJ and Cool P argue ("just kill each other already") - he just wants to be left alone - wears turtlenecks and rings - has to look fabulous at all times - loves coffee

Memphis: - doesn't want to get in trouble but somehow always ends up getting in trouble because of MJ or Cool P (because they are assholes) (Mephis still likes to spend time with his buddies tho, even if it doesn't always end up being good for him) - his hair is extremely floofy and soft, it's unbelievable - he seems a little shy to me..

and that's all I guess.. I don't really have any headcanons for the other dudes, but I might come up with something someday

[vamqyr3]

↳ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY // 2013. ᴥ

EP 1 .

CW// Yelling, idk it’s angst what do you want, aftermath of Simon dying and leaving you with a kid.

You pour two parts pasta, one part cheese, lined to the backing on the box. Shifting his little feet to lay along the leg wide holes cut through his high chair. “Luke give it a minute, honey.” He’s a thoughtless toddler, without a response. Bits of cereal to fling around on sticky floors, honeyed watermelon and carrot paste. He had been restless since 7 months. Peopled have stopped Inviting you to things, piled next to your water bill and oily napkin bunch. The large of you knew he didn’t deserve the butt end of it. Your nature is casted into stone. From loved, thought of and care for to distant and diseased. Hugged from time to time, yet no one’s trying to lay with crazy.

His father was a dead beat, not his fault. Not yours. His, the fathers, Simons, his fault. It was hardly and appropriate breakfast, now matted to the front of his cotton shark print top.

He’s zipped into the back car seat. You hope to see the day he’s attached to the booster, then left without one. Sad to see it from the front cushions, driving, give or take a new decade.

His school isn’t far it’s the drive that’s hard. One hand to his aid one to the front. Remembering which way to turn, if he was still breathing, did you buckle the left strap? How fast are you going?

The plastic of his fist sized shoes squeak under his foot. Slides past the front gate, squishy playground and over to where you could not see. You’re off today unfortunately. Meant to report to base and check up with whoever from 141 was left with the shortest stick. It was patronizing, the jut of the gas pedal and the stop for ID. You were no child meant for coddling, you just so happen to have a child, one of Simon’s.

”Doing any better?” The walk here made you sick, the air had a smell of dust and rubbing alcohol. Price’s hat made you sick, the pins on his desk slipped down your throat and jabbed you stomach. “How’s Luke?”

“Fine,”

“You should let me n’ Gaz take him out, yeah?”

“Oh then what after that Price?” “Listen,”

“Take my son out for a drink? Show him a few tricks in your big ass truck? Price? I want you to show my child how to load a gun, captain. You know what why don’t you just carry him off to the front lines while you’re at it?” He just sort of stands there, takes in a breath like he’s going to speak and readjusts.

“It’s my day off you know I don’t have to be here,”

“Yes you do,”

“On whose orders?” “Mine,”

“Right, Right the same ones that got Simon killed, it’s all clicking sorry,”

There’s a sort of prickle to those words, it tickles his face and makes wrinkles. “You knew damn well what you were gettin into,”

“Oh my god, how many times are you going to send for me just for us to have this same argument? I hate it, I hate it here. Theres that same goddamn picture that’s been up since our first date. And the fucking Gym still has the same equipment. How many times am I going to look at that stupid ass wall of yours and remember the time Simon put a hole in it? Like I can’t, I look at my sons skin and I worry just how long it takes till all of our grief leaves scars on it.”

Price finally lets go of that breath. “Look, the boys are worried,”

You were too, shifting to anchor yourself. No part of this was supposed to leave you gasping at night. To have your son set In a deep driven drudge of speechless resentment. To have him shielded yet still affected. Up asking why he couldn’t show off his dads sporting gear like Hunter could. Luke has no father, he never did. And that wasn’t your fault or his.

“I have to pick my son up,”

FIN. // EP 2. // MASTERLIST.

@bootboob @yippeerrrs @ghostsfavhoe

@the-faceless-bride @konigsblog @russadler

ect… I couldnt find all of them.. send in an ask for tag list

[leam1983]

2024 in Gaming

Helldivers 2: it's become a running joke with the polycule, and approval with Progressive opinions or talking points now gets at least one of the three of us to jokingly pull out their smartphone to "call their Democracy Officer to report a case of treasonous activity"...

Walt isn't any better, but he's unlocked a few rocket-propelled weapons and now feels better sitting behind myself and Sarah while pelting the enemies ahead with weaponized Freedom.

Balatro: Walt and I's new favourite casual game, wherein appearance of it being a cutesy little variant on Poker suites turns into virtual crack. I've woken up in the wee hours to Walt's face bathed in his phone's OLED screen. When I ask him what's wrong, he typically replies something to the tune of "I need four thousand Chips, babe."

Marvel Rivals: it does what Overwatch 2 don't. As in, it's fun. Me, Walt, Sarah and a few of the boys on an all-Rocket Raccon match? You betcha! Also, there's Jeff the Land Shark, and Jeff the Land Shark deserves the world. Nay, the universe.

Astro Bot: didn't finish it, but I loved what Team Asobi cooked up. It's the most genuine, heartfelt, cutesy and engaging piece of corporate PR and Engineering porn to ever exist. Every button pressed during an Astro Bot session twiddles Mark Cerny's fun bits remotely.

Elden Ring - Shadow of the Erdtree: bought it because I approve of the design ethos behind this DLC's existence, never played it because I suuck at FromSoft games. I made sure to watch some related content so I could point and laugh awkwardly if friends of mine greet me with a random cry of "BAYYYYLE!"

Worshippers of Chtulhu: Anno with a Lovecraftian twist. It's very broken, still very much in Early Access, but the promise is definitely there.

Park Beyond: Meh. Got it for cheap, I guess we're still not getting a decent heirloom to Roller Coaster Tycoon, after the Micromanagement nightmare that Planet Coaster turned out to be for me.

1000xResist: basically a Yoko Taro game not written or directed by Yoko Taro, and it's one of the deeper game-based experiences I've had in a long while. Strongly recommended.

The Cabin Factory: Spot the Difference for easily-frightened streamers who haven't played Exit 8 yet. It has an interesting narrative format and is one of the more surprising implementations of Unity Engine I've seen to date. I could've sworn this was a UE5 project! Beyond that, it's nothing special, but it's priced accordingly.

Clickolding: if Cookie Clicker had an uncanny sense of atmosphere and managed to creep you out with nothing except a sparsely-animated antagonist and a rising click counter, you'd have a sense of what this feels like. It does a very effective job at making you want to be as compliant and possible.

Daemonologie: The Salem Witch Trials in game form, or Ace Attorney if Phoenix wore a Quaker hat and had a fixation on nakey women doing odd shit in the forest. Very tense and minimalist, and very, very worthwhile.

Cryptmaster: it's basically a spruced-up oldschool MUD, with 3D black-and-white graphics and four zombified D&D character archetypes you control simultaneously, by either using your Arrow keys to move the entire party at once, or typing in the words that correspond to abilities or attacks. Very, very, very British humour is on offer, along with a script-writer that managed to predict most stupidly filthy prompts you're likely to try at any given point. It's hilarious and kludgey in just the right way, especially if you remember the nineties' MindMaze on Encarta '95.

Liar's Bar: Russian Roulette for Furries with a decent voIP chat integration. It's shallow and stupid fun, and the subject matter makes people behave in increasingly crude ways as the session goes on. If you're like me, you'll swear you played a round or two against a guy who was actually stone-dead-drunk and who actually had nothing to lose...

Silent Hill 2 Remake: finally, Silent Hill's fog doesn't feel like a performance-saving measure and actually creeps me the fuck out. It makes me feel terrible and has me contemplate not playing it, but it does make sense. Kudos to Bloober Team for finally manage to ground this one heck of a weirdo title.

Indiana Jones and the Great Circle: take Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Dial of Destiny, burn all copies, consign the masters to Disney's oubliette, thank Harrison Ford for his decades of diligent service and pass the fedora and bullwhip to Troy Baker, 'cause Machine Games and Bethesda have managed to find themselves yet another prime title to fuck Fascists up using fisticuffs or blunt weaponry. It's a great callback to Machine Games' own contribution to Deus Ex: Mankind Divided, seeing as every single level in the game has the granular detail of their version of Prague. Slap some John Williams on, add the authentic audio samples for whip cracks and punches, lifted straight out of the movies. I haven't had as much fun raiding tombs or poking through lovingly-reconstructed real places since Nolan North last lent his voice pipes to Nathan Drake.

Imagine my surprise, when the Sistine Chapel turned out to be about the size of our condo building's parking lot! That's tiny! The more you know, I guess!

Star Wars Outlaws: this is what happens when a studio really, really, really wants to give the IP due diligence, but its decades of re-iterated design docs ruin the experience. Kay Vess isn't a galactic scoundrel; she's basically every Far Cry protagonist ever, except in third-person!

The Forever Winter: all crunch, no fun. An incredibly engaging premise, but the mistaken notion that the average gamer has several three-to-four-blocks to devote to this each and every single day. Worth at least a YouTube ride-along, to see the incredible work the Art Design team's pulled together.

Disney's Epic Mickey - Rebrushed: Warren Spector's poorly-received baby and love letter to classic animation gets its just desserts on PC. It's not super complex with only two basic mechanics based off of two buttons on a controller, but it managed to use an extremely limited toolset to great effect, even throwing in what feels like a younger relative's first potential exposure to the Immersive Sim concept of looking for unmarked routes through a level. The in-between side-scrolling levels are oozing charm, and essentially feel like some part of Spector wanted to play in the same ballpark as American McGee's Alice.

If anything, it cements the idea that non-verbal instances of Mickey Mouse should never be left in the same room as a magical implement or toolset. Ever. Verbal Mickeys can push past their childlike glee and reason accordingly, but the oldschool button-eyed and non-verbal originator is not to be trusted.

STALKER 2: Heart of Chernobyl: Have fun losing half your health because the ARMA-esque mechanics decide that grazing damage means holy shit, you almost died! Especially, have fun getting knocked flat out on your ass by mutants - over and over and over...

To be played in subtitled Ukranian out of implicit support, and to have fun with the Slavic definition of an acting range. It's like watching the second season of Squid Game, except you get the sense that their scale goes from Nonchalant to Pants-Pissingly Terrified with very little grading in-between.

And now, for Games I didn't really get into until 2024...

Valfaris and Valfaris II: Mecha Therion: side-scrollers that do their damndest to look like they stepped straight out of the pages of Heavy Metal as of the mid-eighties. Gorgeously grotesque pixel art meets with a banging soundtrack made up of certified shredders. The lead headbangs and throws the horns when he finishes a stage!

Brütal Legend: an oldie but a goodie, previously constrained to the PS3 but now quite cozy on my Steam Deck. It's got a semi-cohesive grab-bag of mechanics, sure, but it's got even more heart, along with a pre-stroke Tim Curry voicing the villain with the gooiest of all countenances. Imagine Shere Khan, but Metal as fuck.

Katamari Damacy: Re-Roll: I barely touched the original when it came out. Having managed to grab the PC port for cheap and knowing how well it plays with a Steam Deck, the Prince of All Cosmos' ball-rolling sojourn across the surface of our planet has turned into a nightly staple for me.

Baldur's Gate 3: Yes, I know, I'm late, you've all banged Astarion sixteen times by now, but I've got time for a long-form WRPG right now. I might not have this much free time once January 10th rolls around.

The Night Cage: not a vidya, but a really nerve-wracking tabletop game that's made for quite a few fun Friday nights at La Casa de Gremlin.

On My Backlog, You'll Find...

Metaphor: Re-Fantazio: I know it's beloved by all, but it feels so "so far, so ATLUS" to me, and I still haven't gotten over P4, P3 and P5's excellent PC ports. I also have Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne to go through, so I really don't know if I have it in me to tackle something in that same vein quite so soon.

Arizona Sunshine 1 & 2: I just can't be bothered to set up my Oculus Rift 2's Link Cable. I have the games, I just don't know if and when I'll play them.

Dead Rising Deluxe Remaster: I'm waiting until my old cheese strats fade into the back of my mind before I tackle this one. Plus, I'm torn about Frank West not being voiced by TJ Rotolo. He doesn't just... feels like he's covered wars, y'know?

Frostpunk 2: bought it to support the devs, am just not jazzed about having to sort of network my way across several simultaneous points of origin until the depressing version of a Dieselpunk sprawl covers the map.

The Yakuza series on Amazon Prime: SEGA's trying to become the Disney of gaming, but something about Kazuma Kiryu's story (or stories) have always felt distinctly and uniquely Japanese to me. As in, it requires a specific mindset and might not be for everyone. I'm waiting for a sign, basically - maybe one to pop my collar and rent a karaoke machine so I can belt out maudlin soliloquies to lost childhood innocence while smoking half a pack of cigs between every third or fourth stanza...

The Sonic Movies: yeah, sure, I'm in my forties, but Jim Carrey's going through a career renaissance by acting out Albert Einstein on crack. Yeah, sure, it's not either of my Robotniks (the Jim Cummings or Long John Baldry versions - for the memes) - but it seems like it might still be a trilogy of adaptations worth pursuing.

Plus, hey, I gotta start catching up on that Stobotnik shit, huh?

[cubicle-eyes]

Hey, I’m the anon that requested the last Crimson one shot! Ty for taking my request! I will gladly ask for more, as I’m still obsessing over him atm! Could you do some hcs of him with a socially awkward/anxious reader? It may be a bit weird but it would mean a lot! And pwease make him nice (to us) :3. Thanks! ❤️ 😈

Crimson Knolastname x GN!Reader Headcanonss

Also this reader is anxious, there is references to pulling your own hair, chewing your nails, biting your knuckles

TW because this us an 18+ show I'm writing about. It may include cussing, sexual themes, and more.

----

Y/N sat on the floor underneath Crimson's desk, back pressed against the side where the drawers lay, writing in their journal to make scenarios and possible reactions. Most of them were either too obscure or made Y/N sound more confident, but it helped a lot. They glanced up at Crimson silently, watching him type on the computer, face unnaturally calm. Y/N scoot around so the side of their head rest against his leg, continuing to write as the typing slowed because one hand rest on

Y/N's head.

---

- Crimson doesn't entirely understand the concept of deep-rooted anxiety or any reason for being shy other than lying

- it takes some time for him to understand but when he does he becomes very protective

- Y/N: live laugh love

crimson: bite maim kill

- he trues to make you laugh if he notices you getting tense, but sometimes it doesn't help

- he doesn't know what to do when you won't talk to him, sitting in silence and bouncing your leg

----

Crimson gave up on trying to actually communicate and slid down the wall to sit next to Y/N with a sigh, taking his hat off and leaning his head against the wall. Y/N was messing with their hair, tugging and detailing the strands until they came out between their fingers. Crimson watched silently for a moment.

"You can't do that anymore, honey. You'll go bald."

"Maybe that's the point."

"It's not."

He reached over and took Y/N's hands away carefully. Y/N was prone to yank away violently when they were acting like this. There was a bandaid over several of Y/N's fingertips where they had chewed the nails down too far before Crim could stop them. He sighed, pulling Y/N closer, resting Y/N's hands on his knee.

"Where's your journal?"

----

- he definetly learns little breathing techniques with you because Chaz used to make fun of you

- of course he can't anymore-

- but he likes it and catches himself using them when he gets over-angry at a stupid worker when shooting them doesn't help

- he notices you biting your knuckles one day when you're talking with a few of his colleagues

----

Y/N nods absently, not really paying attention to the conversation as it happened. The attention was directed directly to them, since the conversation was about their bosses new lover, but Y/N felt more like an object then a person. They bit down particularly hard after a question about their sex life and winced, pulling their knuckle away in suprise. Crimson appeared immediately, wrapping a damp paper towel around it and glaring at the loan sharks.

"That's not a real appropriate question, is it fellas?"

A chorus of apologies and excuses were made, but Crimson paid them no mind. He shot the question asker and Y/N smiled faintly as the others scrambled quickly.

Crim applied more pressure to the bleeding knuckle and Y/N pulled away, recoiling.

"S-Sorry-"

"No, it's okay. I was a little too late to get that stupid finger out of your mouth."

"It's okay. I didn't even realize."

"You have a million little fidget things, you don't even use them."

The question was surly, but Y/N simply ignored it. They held Crimson's hand, using their thumb to play with his.

"I guess I just like your hands better."

----

IDK WHAT ELSE SO I TRIED THANK YOU FOR READING H

💙

[pastel-rights]

Assign your friends/moots an Animal that reminds you of them!

... hehehhehehehhe animals. love it when my mutuals.

Yuu is a raven, yeah. the main raven, a bad bitch, classic bird. Nerissa is ALSO a raven so, maybe it's the duo energy.

Tae is a dinosaur because I named a plush dinosaur after her but... hmm... okay, actually, we're changing the person here. Rui? Rui is a bunny. Why? Well, Kasumi HATES cats with a passion, but, he loves bunny rabbits. And he loves his brother. So, Rui is a bunny.

Beth is giving... hmm... beth's giving a puppy dog... golden retriever energy. I'd trust Beth with my life, she's just a walking bag of sunshine.

I named a cow I bought earlier this year "Satoru" so I think, legally speaking I think he has to be a mini cow. Look at him. isn't he such a little cutie. yes. yes he is.

clown is a... probably a dragon, but specifically a dragon with a jesters hat that taunts the king with their non-binary dragon swag.

emma and al are both a snake but specifically those like, really stupid looking noodle looking snakes with the big bug eyes and the :D face and goofy vibes. you might know the ones but. they're so SILLLLLY.

orange is a cat, but specifically a tabby cat. they're SPECIFICALLY my friend's orange tabby cat who kept knocking dishes off the counter and then acting innocent like they didn't just knock off dishes onto the floor. Criminal cat, but funny.

Rina is a shark, but specifically a hammerhead shark. they look so dumb and goofy but they're so silly and loving and lovely and they're just. derpy. And Rina is a derpy person /pos

Four is a moray eel. Enough said.

Klai... Klai is a vulture, jumping their ocs and just ATTACKING the poor things. Death, angry, destrucTIONNNNNNNN (self inflicted)

fifi's a rat. enough said (part two)

Saturday is... probably also a raven tbh. Yuu and Sat can fight for the shinies. /j

Pins is a bat. Enough said (part three)

Navi gives like... those really fancy and refined grey cats with the fluffy fur. Fancy detective cat.

I'm missing some people, I know I am but I know a lot of people so (sobs)

[tropicalcryptid]

HELLO !! while i consider my answer i would like to know your favorite ace attorney character design(s)

:D Ooh fun question!

In terms of design I really like:

-Edgeworth (classic, the cravat and bangs are the perfect mix of stuffy and cute. He's a perfect tired disgruntled wet cat man and I love him.)

-Feenie (I love regular Phoenix too but Feenie is an amazing use of character design, to take a character we know and "rewind" him a bit. You take one look at him and say OOF)

-Beanix (Feenie part 2, you look at Beanix and immediately want to know what the hell even HAPPENED to this man. Also you want to kiss him because he is so hot)

-Franziska (honestly her whole design/outfit is perfect, it so clearly reflects Manfred's influence along with her own perfectionism. It's both uptight and frilly and I love it/her)

-Engarde (the change from cute dumb puppy to monster works really well with his design imo)

-Adrian (she's prettyyy and she looks like Riza Hawkeye lol)

-Trucy (I love everything about Trucy and her design. I love her expressions and her movements and her devious use of Mr. Hat)

-Klavier (he's a good boy and I like his style lol)

-Lang (I thought he would be too over-the-top for my taste. I was wrong. I love his werewolfy ass so much)

-Kay (she is adorable and I like what a good contrast she makes to Edgeworth, in both personality and design)

-Ron De Lite (he's ridiculous and looks like he escaped from Candyland. I love his stupid hair)

-Eldoon (One of the my fav witnesses in the series imo (he NEVER LIES TO US EVEN ONCE <3) and honestly I love his noodle hair)

AA in general has really good character designs. I can really only think of 3 so far that I HATE:

-Spark Brushel. I hate this man. Hate hate hate hate hate. Worst part of one of my fav cases in the series

-Daryan. I hate his weird penis hair, which sucks because I like his dumb shark outfit.

-Means. He creeps me the hell out. I know he's supposed to, but haaaaaate

Thanks for the ask!! <333

[valence-gnome-bandit]

every god needs an imp

notes: this is my first fic ever sorry if my presentation isn't very polished! also not sure about teenage kix in the show but instead of just making them a hero team I figured why not make it a show in the style of bad girls club or Jersey shore? teen titans but with hair pulling and alcohol. anyways that's the preface to how A-train and eccentrica met their bother former teenage kix members.

summary: homelander needed one thing, a tool. a tinker toy to carry out his more wild whims that the deep/A-train or the new recruits couldn't.finally after endless searching through files upon files he finds a perfect candidate.besides every king needs a jester, every hero needs a sidekick, every god needs an imp.

"teenage kix." Ashley looked up from the file folder grasped between shivering fingers eyes locked nervously on homelander and his hateful glare.

"absolutely not why in the every loving fuck would I choose anyone off that circus of a team? I mean A-train was the last remotely decent hero to come out of that voyeuristic Bullshit TV show. come on Ashley get your shit together." he didn't move one inch sitting ankles crossed in the chair in front of her desk chin rested on his clenched fist like an pouting child.

"well- well actually sir there has been one more promising member..." the (now fake) red head slid the file over to homelander the page resting on top a vought branded hero file with an attached image of the supe in question.

Ashley began to speak as homelander analyzed the portfolio, "Eccentrica Magica, 5'8, 160 pounds, only 24, replaced A-trains slot on the show when he aged out. premiered at fifteen and became a hit, once she left the show she started a residency at the MGM Grand."

she was a fucking magician?

homelander dropped the file on the desk before pressing the palms of his red leather gloves over his eyes letting a hissing sigh out through his teeth. "you really expect me to put a god damn magician in the final spot on the seven?" he practically growled his words out, he could hear Ashley's already racing heart jump nervously.

"well she is very talented-" she started but was immediately cut off."I don't care if she's "talented" I need someone to fight not pull a fuckin' rabbit out of hat!" he stood up rolling his eyes teeth pulled back over his teeth in a grimace of annoyance and rage. hands found their way into a fold one gripping the other as he paced trying his best not to laser Ashley's stupid face off. two hours of this bullshit going through applications of pre established supes for the empty spot in the seven.

"really homelander she's a good option, she has super strength plus she can remotely teleport! plus she already has a strong fanbase and she's attractive," Ashley's mutterings about this eccentrica magica was tuned out as soon as he heard the words remote teleportation. sure sure anyone could teleport, but having control like that to so much training it wasn't worth it. she could be useful she could just teleport butcher right into the space for him! besides if the deep was in the seven, well that was comparing an intern to loan shark.

He snapped back pacing back to the folder on the desk as Ashley continued chattering, endlessly chattering. his thumb and index fingers gripped the photo of eccentrica, she smirked at the camera with a manic charm he found reminiscent of the Cheshire cat fitting for her powers. his big blue eyes wandered up the picture tracing the round curve of her face pale, soft, unmarred skin a sign of her invulnerability right up to the best part her eyes. framed by light brown feathery bangs and eyebrows raised only making her big glowing purple doe eyes all the more god damn startling.

"besides she has an in! A-train has met her an confirmed she's a good candidate plus again shes literally the last file in the stack." Ashley smiled at him eyes flicking between homelander and the massive stack of files sitting to her right hand.

homelander let out a small huff, "fine I'll take the magician." now, to meet this little imp and see if she was as useful as he needed her to be.

thank you for reading <3