#jade dividers

[staincastle]

⠀⠀⠀⋆ ୨♡୧ ⋆ rina's message is here! hsr line dividers

[bratbby333]

satosugu & their favorite lady ♡ poly head cannons

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ bc who doesn't love when their two boyfriends are also bf + bf?

nsfw mdni; fem!reader, 3sum, anäl, dbl. penētration, oral, yaoi, use of pet names. banner fan art from pinterest

poor suguru, having to work overtime to keep the two of you in check—your unyielding energy bounces off of satoru's childlike enthusiasm, creating quite an unhinged environment. and of course geto switches into dad-mode when it comes to y'all, but he wouldn't have it any other way...not willing to give up what he has, loving how silly his lovers are.

satoru’s definitely the physical touch lover while suguru handles words of affirmation: they take turns showering you in praise in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses while they removing your clothes, two sets of hands running up and down your soft skin.

this dynamic also manifests in public, with satoru being your go-to for steamy dancing and drunken make-out sessions in the middle of the club, while suguru sits observantly at a table off to the side.

when he finally feels that it’s time to go, he’ll join the two of you on the dance floor, his chest pressed flush with your back as you continue to lock lips with satoru. you grind against him, assuming he's finally joining in on all the fun. but his hands pull at your hips before running up your body and cupping the underside of your jaw, quite literally having to peel your mouth away from satoru's. "hey...wha- i wasn't done," you grumble. suguru only chuckles in response. "let's get outta here, you two..." he mumbles. satoru attempts to reconnect his lips with yours before a stern "satoru," rumbles from suguru's chest. your blue-eyed lover pouts, of course, before reluctantly agreeing.

suguru loves hitting it from the back while you suck satoru off, the sloppy sounds of both your holes filling the heady air the room as the three of you chase your releases

and of course, satoru would get creative and suggest a challenge, a little competition to see who finishes first, just for funsies; "bet i'd last the longest". he'd be so fucking smug about it, too. and nine times out of ten, you and suguru would create an alliance and work together to literally break satoru; not only does he finish first but he cums over, and over, and over again. you and sugu take turns bringing him to his breaking point, and after his third orgasm, he's begging to switch so he can get one of you off instead. but you just can't stop. and why would you? he just looks so pretty as his hips buck off the bed, sweat glistening on his skin with his flustered cheeks and swollen lips, while his body trembles with every gasping breath. you swear he does this shit on purpose, plotting for this outcome because he's been feeling super needy lately.

they just love pleasing their precious girl

you're straddling suguru, your forearms resting against his chest as your nails dig into his skin. satoru is pounding into you from behind, his hands anchored on your hips. he tucks his chin into his clavicle to watch as your gushing cunt sucks him in so greedily. suguru pulls your head down, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers reach under you to play with your clit, sultry words of praise leaving his lips and going straight to your listening ears, "feels good, doesn't it baby? uh uh, don't move. keep takin' him...y'doin so good." you whimper as toru’s impressive length reaches unimaginable depths inside you, the sweet squelches of your needy pussy spurring him on as he drives into you even harder. sugu’s fingers keep working at your throbbing clit while you bite and suck on his neck, interrupted by the symphony of soft ahh’s and ooo’s falling from your swollen lips. a few more rough thrusts and rapid circles against your clit and you’re falling apart on satoru’s cock, spraying all over the their thighs. you gasp and whine when you feel satoru pull out, only for suguru to lift you up and quickly take his place, sheathing himself in your pulsing walls. “you ready, baby?” you glance over you shoulder, watching as satoru sucks his fingers into his mouth, a cheeky smirk on his face, your cock drunk brain too dizzy to respond. you nod, groaning at the feeling of his long, slender digits playing with your ass, dipping in to the second knuckle. satoru works to stretch you out in preparation for you to take them both. your face contorts at the dull ache. "look at me...focus on me, princess," suguru rasps, redirecting your attention to him as he slowly pumps in and out of your gummy walls. your nails scratch down his chest as you rest your forehead against his, breathing deeply in an attempt to relax your body for the inevitable stretch. you already feel so full, your pussy absolutely drenched, your arousal dribbling out around sugu’s girth, but you grow even wetter in anticipation for your two boyfriends to take you at the same time

and if you thought it would be a peaceful transition into sleep after y'all finish fucking, you would be sorely mistaken...the three of you constantly fight for the middle spot in the bed. correction, you and satoru are the ones bickering. as the two of you argue, suguru finds his place and waits for y'all to follow suit, and more often than not, it's suguru in the middle, laying on his back, as you and satoru tuck yourselves under each of his arms and curling into his side, legs thrown over his waist.

it's a very balanced relationship. the three of y'all have your designated nights to cook dinner, your assigned spots on the couch (though you occasionally fight over what to watch), a copasetic routine for showering, going to work, running errands together. and when one of y'all is out of town for work, the two left over keep each other company. it's perfect, a home full of love and laughter.

y'all loooove having threesomes, but sometimes it's too much logistically. and that's totally fine...nothing wrong with some one on one action, whether it be you and toru or sugu and you or the two men having their fun alone.

you arrive home, expecting to be entrapped in a double bearhug by your two boyfriends, only to hear moans and grunts echoing down the hallway. you laugh to yourself as you make your way upstairs. opening the bedroom door, you're greeted by a smiling suguru being topped off by his blond counterpart. "hey baby, how was work?" he asks casually, not even acknowledging the fact that he's actively getting head. you smile softly, walking to the edge of the bed and placing a gentle peck on suguru's waiting lips. "mmm, it was a pretty rough shift...i'm gonna go take a long, hot shower," you reply, exhaustion evident in your voice. satoru sits up, continuing to jerk suguru off. with his free hand, he wipes the spit from his chin, grinning ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him, too. "you sure you don't wanna join us?" "not right now, toru, but i might when i get out," you smile as you walk to the dresser, grabbing a change of clothes before heading toward the master bathroom. you turn back around to face the two of them, giggling at the disappointed looks on their faces. when the door closes, the wet sounds and breathy moans fill the bedroom once more. but of course, not even five minutes into your peaceful shower, your back is pressed up against the tile wall as satoru's tongue laps at your throbbing clit. "this is the best way to decompress, baby," he says before his fingers dip into your core and his lips reattach to your sensitive bud. "f-fuck, toru...feels s'good..." as you surrender to the bliss, you hear the bathroom door open and close. seems like suguru was feeling left out. so much for your alone time, huh?

loneliness is no longer apart of the equation for you. after years of failed relationships and agonizing heartbreaks, you have finally found peace, your yin and yang. you have your boys, and they have you.

author notes: stsg has had me in a fuckin chokehold recently so i had to get this outta my head. i just rly rly want two boyfriends so so bad and i want my two boyfriends to also be boyfriends. ugh. is that too much to ask? ♡

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[jadeslayter]

︶ ◜ᴗ◝ ࣪ 𓈒・ 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍' 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𓇼

꒰ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ˚ ｡ ⋆

★ The jjk men have a marathon session . ★ Pairings ⦂ Sukuna , Geto , Toji x Fem!Reader ⭒ (separate)

꒰ ୭ৎ 𓂃 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 ׂ ׅ

♡⃕⠀ - short drabble : scratching, choking, somnophilia, (dom & feral jjk men cus yesss), degradation, praise, overstim, piv, creampies, spanking, dub-con, dumbification, edging, domestic Geto, power dynamic, true-form kuna, masochism

୫; - pet names : doll , (pretty) girl, baby, princess, mama, ma ୫; - wc : 3k

─── ⋮𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

THE ROOM WAS HOT. Sweltering, even— thick air swallowing your shaking body as you convulsed underneath that bastardly curse; his nails digging angry crescent moons into the plush of your supple thighs– reddened from his previous assault. “Takin’ that c-ock so good,” Sukuna would praise, his warm breath bellowing directly into your face as his hips snapped forwards with ungodly haste, stretching your overstimulated cunt until your velvet walls sheathed the entirety of his size. He wanted you full of shaft– full of him. “I should make it..fuckbaby,” He paused, reeling his head back in pleasure. “Should make things h-arder for..you.. yeah?”

This was not a question, but a statement— Sukuna would ask these things to make you feel as though you had some sense of power over the situation. You hadn’t, but it never hurt to imagine you did. Sukuna preferred things this way, and you’d accede, too. He was certain of it. 

The man’s calloused hands— two of them, the other pair gripped firmly behind your knees, locking your thighs against your chest in a tight mating press— travel along the lines of your body, grazing over your sweat slicked skin. Lower and lower— tantalizingly lower. 

Until they were nestled within the cute folds of your cunt, his big fingers working the bud from hiding as he pinched her between two rough fingers. Not gently, either. He wanted to hurt you; and so he would. He’d squeeze on your little clit with malice, massaging the bud aggressively between an index and a thumb. His other hand spread your lips, sheen coating his shaft in sinful pleasure. 

You’d be cockhungry and desperate by the time he was finished with you— a sloppy puddle of a woman drenched in her own arousal. “‘Kuna—Fuck,’Kuna!” You would scream into the recesses of your lovers neck, inundate scent enveloping you; sukuna laying his full claim to every inch of your being. It was impossible to escape him. 

Your toes curled, his precious cock head jutting against an all too familiar patch of textured velvet. Sukuna was an expert at anatomy— your anatomy, only. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he’d studied hard to understand it. He’d shoved every inch of himself inside of you to accustom himself with your pleasure points, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. 

“Shut up n’ take that fuckin’ dick,” He would be so mean with you, degrading you— invalidating you crudely as he split you on his cock. He just couldn’t help but lose his sense of stability, you knew that, Doll. 

He was very lenient with you; very loving, in all the ways he knew how to be. Not many. But, the effort was still there. 

His body would press down against yours— his weight heavy above you as his waist slammed down into you; his inches slipping inside of you with ease, slicked with your pitiful fucking orgasms. Over and over (and over). 

He made you cum so much. Until you were physically unable to move beneath him— it just felt so good. But seeing you immobile wasn’t enough; he needed you brain dead. He needed you to rely on him, you could do that, couldn’t you? You would. He’d make sure you fucking did. 

“Kuna, fuck—right there, baby— hohgod, g’na cum!” The words ripped from your throat, your moans bellowing within the echoes of your bedroom. “yesyesyes, Kuna— fuck m’ cummin’” 

“Yeah, baby, give me what I want— gimme ‘notha one, make it g-ood. Don’t you dare disappoint me.” He meant what he said. His words were sharp in your ears; his breath hitting against the shell of your ear. 

And God, would you fucking cum. All over his cock— for the nth time. Your release flowed out of you with haste, coating his shaft in another layer of your euphoria. Your body would convulse, shivering desperately beneath the man once more as you struggled to overcome your high. 

His thighs wouldn’t stop their smacking; his heavy balls slapping against your cunt with hellish velocity— Godspeed. He was so careless. 

“Thas’ it, Pretty girl,” He huffed, his chest heavy with the weight of his own impending orgasm. “Giveitall— give it t’ me. Not stoppin’ til’ you’re fallin’ asleep on my cock.” 

─── ⋮𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP,” You’d pant, latching your flailing hands around the bare abdomen of your lover– his skin dewy with sweat as he forced another inch of himself into your sopping walls; cunt swallowing his shaft expectantly. 

He was right where you wanted him— ramming against that spot with genuine rapture; his hips rocking into you gingerly. “Don’t stop, baby? Yeah?” He’d mimicked, his hands traversing the frill of your nightgown; thin silk hiked over your thighs, pooling above your bellybutton. 

Cute little lolita top he bought you on the night of your honeymoon— the night you were finally taken by a real man— it had always looked so good on you; the blue of the fabric slightly faded over the years of your marriage. He loved seeing you in his clothes; albeit his personal wardrobe, or the clothing you’ve accumulated with his money. The feeling never faltered. 

Geto would be obsessed with the way your perky nipples peak from below the fabric, sensitive buds hardened underneath the restrictions of your nightgown. 

A strained chuckle would pass Geto’s pre-parted lips, heavy breaths and groans resounding within the man's throat. “Thas’it, Baby,” Suguru would moan, the intensity of his thrusts sending recoils through your body. You’d grip the headboard for stability– fuzzy brain swarmed with indescribable pleasure. 

Geto was an elephant when it came to retaining information; all information. Names, dates, locations, everything. So, naturally, Geto’s interests peaked when you had mentioned being woken up to the rock of his hips between your thighs; how foreign his cock would feel inside of your sleepy lil’ cunt while you dreamt of him, and how familiar it’d feel when you awoke to the sensation of spilling on his length. 

So here he lay, a soft hand wrapped firmly around the width of your neck, the other clasped firm within the bend of your knee, your ankle resting upon his broad shoulders. That cute little nightgown of yours clinging to the curvature of your body with sweat. 

You were so pretty when you were like this— cum drunk, lust clouding your comprehension. You only knew how to ask for more and more. You only spoke Geto’s language, and he had no problem following suit. You were his— through and through. 

“This pussy’s s’ fuckin’ good, Baby,” A husky groan reverberating in his throat— adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “‘specially when i work her up in the mornin’.” You felt so good around him. Looked good, too; cute little cunt puffy with overstimulation; your holes clenching so desperately around his thick cock. 

And those eyes, Jesus, those eyes, Baby. He could stare into them for hours; big curious orbs blown with pleasure. Hearts practically morphed your irises; delectation overwhelming. This— in all of its glory— is why he wanted you in missionary; wanted to see that pretty, drool-crusted face as he edged you into oblivion.

He almost felt bad for you— princess pussy so sensitive, yet so eager for a release. So needy, only for his package. “So—hnh— full’f me, yeah? Wanna cum, Princess?” His pelvis pistoned between your shaking thighs as the heat of a prolonged orgasm washed over the both of you, coiling the knot within your stomach with yearning.

Geto would roll his hips into you, slowing his pace as he ground himself deep within your velvet walls, pressing your abdomen into the mattress— his raven locs veiling against your forehead; hair disheveled atop his head. He was so focused. Determined. 

He looked the most attractive this way, his skin ripe with droplets of sweat; blotchy patches dotting his arms— soon-to-be-bruises forming just beneath his flesh. He looked so strained above you, thrusting everything he had into your cunt as he distributed his weight into his forearms, his nose directly against yours. 

He’d exhale against your lips, beridding his lungs of their oxygen before pulling you into a sensual, slow, kiss— his lips entrapping yours as they began to swell with pressure; his teeth boring indentions into the plush. 

Geto would tilt his head slightly to the right , angling his nose before yours as he deepened the kiss; his desperation palpable. His tongue would slick over your lips; a gesture of request— and he’d slip himself within your mouth when you oblige, his tongue exploring your cavern hungrily. 

You’d dance in tango, tongues swirling vehemently as the kiss grew increasingly sloppier with every reposition of your lips against his; saliva glistening along the corners of your lips, some dripping upon your chin.

His cock continues its cruel assault, bucking away at your g-spot with malice; his hips shifting slightly to elicit more lude noises from your throat— to which he would swallow up in that kiss, drinking down your essence as he fucked himself into you. 

He was fucking you so good. The pleasure had your eyes rolling into your skull, your toes pointed with tension. 

So fucking close. Just a few more thrusts—

Geto’s lips unlatch themselves from yours, a bubble of intimacy stringing between you before snapping, the droplets warm against your flesh as they land.  

A deep sigh; and then it’s gone. Everything. The movement of his hips ceases between your bruised thighs— begrudgingly, ‘course. You’d feel so empty; so indifferent, so.. frustrated. He’d taunted you with the idea of an orgasm yet again; eighth time in counting.

“Not yet,” He’d huff as he’d collapse above you, his flesh adhering to yours with sweat— lots n’ lots of it. “Just a little bit longer, You can hold it f’ me, huh?” 

─── ⋮𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

SOMETIMES WHEN TOJI fucked you, you were physically incapable of making any noise. 

It just felt that good— your little cock hungry brain unable to process any sounds other than pitiful whimpers, occasional gasps when he’d force the arch of your back deeper into the mattress. 

Especially after he’d ram the entirety of his dick into you; his balls slapping against your thighs, girthy 7 inches bottoming out within you, not the slightest shiver of repentance. This was your punishment, after all. What did he have to be apologetic for? 

Certainly not your actions. You were responsible for atoning those. And you would, he’d make sure of it. Your careless transgressions were what got you in this position to begin with— slutty little holes on display for him while you drooled helplessly upon the cotton of his pillowcase, your saliva soaking the fabric through and through. 

“D’aww, Mama,” He’d chuckled ingenuienly through his teeth, callous fingers adamant with their search between your legs, his broad fingertips circling your clit prudently with the resolve of his amatory impurity. He wanted you so bad; wanted to split you open with his seed, fill your breeding chamber until you were swollen with every last drop. “T’s too much? hmm? c’mon, use that mouth, t’s all ya’ good for, idntit?” 

Toji was so mean. 

So condescending as he forced his vigilantic tournament upon your cunt. She could take it. 

But God, it’d feel so good. He’d feel so good inside of you, stretching your velvet over the length of his cock, burrowing himself into your cute lil’ g-spot. He loved being inside of you, even if it were for the benefit of punishing you with the sadistic means of fucking you until you nearly safeworded. 

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you, Doll. Only a lil’ bit. Out of spite, ‘course. 

You’d manage to force a lamentable little whine once more, nodding your head frantically as your sweat adhered your forehead to the pillowcase. “Please,t’stoomuch, Jiji— god, rightthere!” Muffled moans swallowed up by the material your husband were fucking you into. 

“Yeah, right there?” His tone was teasing, his voice pitching as he mocked your desperate pleas of pleasure; how very piteous you sounded begging him to continue with his assault on your insides. Had you no shame, baby? But t’s okay, Toji preferred you absolutely fucking stupid on his dick. Easier for him to thrust his seed into your cunt, because you were simply unable to object. Not like you would, anyway. 

Your arch deepened, the fat of your ass recoiling against Toji’s brutality— skin slapping whilst your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. So fucking good. Toji knew just what you needed— knew your body better than you had. 

Knew how to push you beyond your limits; have you a crying, screaming mess on his bedsheets. He loved seeing you so voracious; all created by him. 

“You don’t get to say that,” He breathed, his thrusts erratic from behind you— peak of his orgasm approaching rapidly, desirous cockhead famished for its release. “‘T’s too much’, this ‘s—..fuck, Baby— This is your f-ault.”

A coy chuckle, and then he’d shove your face deeper within the recesses of the mattress— his right hand heavy above your head as he crushed your frame into the foam. His fingers entangle your roughly tousled hair— the singe of his grip searing through your scalp. “If you’d learn patience, I wouldn’t have ‘t fuck you this way—“ His large knuckles strategically angle your head, his fist pressing your left cheek into the pillow. “Now you’re stuck, Mama,” 

Toji was so ashamed of you, he had trained you so much better than this. You couldn’t even resist your primal urges long enough— couldn’t respect yourself or your husband long enough to wait for his return. Had to call and call his phone; sending him nude photos of those perfectly unbruised breasts, squeezed between a pair of elbows Toji so desperately wanted tied behind your back. 

Your soft eyes would gaze up at the camera as you angled your tits into the frame, snapping the photo and shooting it off to your preoccupied, very busy, husband. Caption being a string of pouting emojis, your desperation almost sickening. Toji’s eyes glossed the minute he opened the inappropriate image, his cheeks warm with the creeping effects of your careless neglect. 

He had you stripped bare and teary eyed in no less than 10 minutes after walking in the door; no hooking his keys, hanging his coat; slipping off his shoes— straight to the bedroom, straight to burying his cock inside of your disgustingly greedy cunt. “Yeah, this’s what ya’ wanted, wadntit’, fuckin’ whore.” He had panted against your skin after his second soul snatching nut, gleaming as he watched the cum spill from your hole. You were able to speak then, strings of curse words and affection spilling from your raspy throat. 

But now he’s pushing out his fifth, and all you can do is lay breathless, pinned to the mattress as your body jolts from the force behind— your ass bruised in bright red handprints, purple and dark green splotches adorning either side of your waist's curvature. Your cunt tight and unwinding against your lovers intrusion as the heat of your orgasm buzzed overhead.

“Oohbaby, t’s’ close, huh? Can feel that pussy clenchin’, Ma.” He rasped deeply, beads of sweat dribbling down onto your back as he rammed himself into you. “Go ‘head, Baby, cum on this dick— fuck, yeaahh baby, M’ cummin’, too,” 

He shot another thick load within you, your pussy clenching down— spazzing helplessly against shaft as he bucked, the accuracy and rhythm of his thrusts receding. He gripped onto your waist for support, balancing himself before lifting his right leg and sitting the flat of his foot against the bedsheet, angling himself inside of you to better overstimulate that poor lil’ g-spot. 

Your screams would prove futile; the fatigue of your cries evident, though no sound emits, your vocal chords just too strained. The sting hurt so good, overstimulation paralyzing you. You really were stuck at the mercy of this man, cumming repetitively on his cock like it’d be your last. 

His thighs resounded off of yours as he fucked the both of you through your paralytic highs, his dick splitting you deftly. It wasn’t long before the peak of yet another release overcame, the sensation sending a rush of euphoric bliss over you as you gasped, your body language giving way to your liberation; shivers and jolts of electricity firing through you— a tired arch faltering underneath him. 

Exactly the way Toji wanted you. Punishing you was so much easier when you obeyed. When you sat and took your punishment like a big girl— Toji’s big, strong girl. Like you’d take this one, over and over, until he decided he was done with you. 

And he was far from that. You hadn’t begged enough, and that just wouldn’t do. No matter, you’d pay with every drop of cum you pushed out of that swollen, sweat-slicked cunt. 

“Gimmie anotha’ one, c’mon, cream until you’ve learned your fucking lesson— til you learn the privilege of restraint.”

© JadeSlayter 2024 Tumblr

[nightshade-writes-stories]

Twisted wonderland incorrect Quotes #40

Mc: Azul is looking at us! quick act natural!

Mc: Crime, Crime

Floyd: Shrimpy~,Shrimpy~

Jade: Mushrooms, Mushrooms

[h0neybane]

SONGS FOR ALL UR OC X CANON NEEDS (PT 1.)

heyyyyy im DOING THE THING!! feel free to use any of these!! i tried to use mostly songs that weren't super mainstream so you wouldn't run into any you found before!

if i can think of a specific character i will bold and color their name!

this one is rlly good for ships that used to be close but fell apart and are now reconnecting! also good for if one of them died because the artist wrote this about his late grandfather lol

literally. ACE. ACE TRAPPOLA. DO YOU SEEE THIS DO YOU SEE. "I BET YOU 20 BUCKS I'LL PUT A SMILE ON YOUR FACE" HE HE HIM? HIM? ITS HIM ITS. anyway this one's really fluffy and sweet!!

i feel like you could use Riddle or Trey for this!! since riddle has a sweet tooth already and trey literally makes sweets... also teeth

uh. for if your ship is freaky like that? LMFAO? the song is essentially two people who are stalking each other... ok this could definitely be a Rook song i'll be honest. HAHAHHAHA

you KNOW i had to add mitski. anyway admittedly this can also work as more a solo song but it reminds me SOOOO much of Jamil!!

SILVER!! SILVER!! SILVER!! THE DAY THAT I MET YOUUU I STAARTEED DREEEAMIIIINNNNNNNNN!! the softness of this song FITS HIM SOOO MUCH i can picture this in the bg of a dream youre sharing together. DO YOU SEE MY VISION!?!?!?!??

THIS SONG IS SOOOO JAZZY AND GREAT FOR A SHIP WHERE THE CHARACTERS R REALLY INTENSE ABOUT THEIR LOVE!! maybe Jade or Rook?

this one is soooooo good for if one of them is obsessed and on their knees for the other one. another jazzy one!

ok tumblr is starting to lag so im gonna continue in another post LOL

@taruruchi @honeyedpearcrushh @teighveepao @boopshoops @scint1llat3

@h2llish @viperbunnies @buttholesparkles @oya-oya-okay @cheerleaderman

@qsoap @angelwishess @gimmeurmoneyagh

[sapphic-circles]

For Love

Pairing: Elphaba/Glinda Word count: 3056 Summary: A few months after Elphaba fakes her death, she sets off to reunite with Glinda.

~~~

“I know what you’re thinking about.”

Elphaba stiffened for a moment. She’d thought Fiyero would be in bed by now—and she should have been, too.

“You can’t sleep, either?” she asked, forcing her tense shoulders to relax. She didn’t turn away from her spot at the window, where she looked out over the rolling hills dimly lit by moonlight.

“No.” Fiyero sat at the window seat beside her and joined her in watching the landscape.

“So,” Elphaba said. “What am I thinking about, then? I’m dying to know.”

“You want to see her,” Fiyero answered. He didn’t have to say the name for Elphaba to know he was right.

She sighed and leaned her cheek onto her hand. She could see the sparkling lights of the city in the distance, so close that she could easily make it there within a night. She’d fantasized about it too often lately: how she’d go, how she’d disguise herself to do it.

“We left her alone,” she murmured. “And you’ve heard word as well as I have. She’s not well, Fiyero. I’m worried about her.”

“She’s not alone,” Fiyero said. “She has all of Oz at her beck and call. She’s absolutely adored by them. They’ll take care of her.”

“You know that’s not what she needs.”

“I know.”

Elphaba shook her head, her eyes still glued to the distant city lights. Yes, there were reports that the Good Witch had been under the weather lately, but not so unwell that she couldn’t perform her duties. She was still taking the country by the reins and leading it back toward the right path, just as she’d promised she would.

But Elphaba couldn’t help but worry. And, if she was being totally honest, she’d been looking for an excuse to see Glinda again. A good reason to reveal her secret to her old friend, a reason to risk everything for one more conversation. Because all of Oz thought she, the Wicked Witch of the West, was dead—which had been the plan, and it was a good thing. A necessary thing.

And yet, Elphaba couldn’t stop wishing Glinda knew the truth.

“You can’t go,” Fiyero said gently. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know that,” Elphaba said. “But…”

“You’re gonna go anyway, aren’t you?”

Elphaba swallowed and looked down at her hands in her lap. She always kept her nails long, but she’d recently painted them a sleek black color using techniques she’d learned from Glinda, and all she could think was that she wanted to see the contrast of pale hands and powder-pink nails twined in hers again.

“I think I have to,” she said eventually.

She looked up at Fiyero, expecting him to fight her on it. They both knew she didn’t have to do anything, and that they would all be safer if she kept her nose where it belonged and continued to live with her head down…but keeping her head down had never been her strong suit.

Fiyero, rather than buckling down, offered her a sad smile. “Just be careful,” he said.

The canvas of his skin crinkled with the curve of his mouth, and Elphaba reached out to tuck in a spray of straw threatening to fall from his seams. What a dear friend he was to have stayed by her side for so long through the things they’d endured, and to still be willing to let her risk ruining it all for her own desires.

“Thank you,” she said. “I may be back by morning, or maybe tomorrow night if I’m able to stay longer. You’ll hear about it if things go wrong, I’m sure.”

“Good luck,” Fiyero said. “And tell her I said hello.”

~~~

Elphaba rode as far as the edge of the city, then continued on foot. It gave her time to think—as if she hadn’t already thought about every possible scenario a hundred times before.

She was fairly certain of which room in the tower Glinda would have picked. The window faced the side of the building, so she wouldn’t need to worry about guards at the doors seeing her sneak in, at least as long as they didn’t glimpse her skirting around to the side.

She’d retired her broom, knowing it would be too dangerous to use, so flying up wasn’t an option. She could throw rocks at the window, but that wouldn’t give her the opportunity to make sure she had the right room before waking the wrong person. Her only option was to climb.

There was a trellis, of course, but it only reached so high. There was plenty to use as a foothold on the way up, too, but the tower was much more intimidating knowing she couldn’t catch herself with her broom. And then, there was always the possibility that someone could notice a figure moving up from floor to floor.

Elphaba would never admit it, but she was scared. Months living peacefully in hiding had left her unused to the stunts she used to pull, and this climb couldn’t be described as anything less than daunting. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure how Glinda would react to her showing up out of the blue in the middle of the night. What if she wasn’t receptive? What if she’d be so angry for being tricked that she’d send Elphaba away, and they wouldn’t even get to talk?

The thought turned Elphaba’s stomach, and she forced it out of her mind. This would all be fine. Glinda would be happy to see her, and she wouldn’t be caught sneaking in. She didn’t come all this way just to turn around and go home.

So, she climbed.

By the time she reached the balcony she aimed for, her muscles ached and she wheezed to catch her breath, arms shaking as she hauled herself over the railing. She’d better be right about the room, or she’d be caught before she could manage to climb back down.

She took a deep breath and peered through the balcony door, her heart pounding with more than just exhaustion. Her pulse buzzed through her as her eyes roved the room: a bedroom cloaked in nighttime darkness, but lit well enough by a small pink lamp that Elphaba could conclude with certainty that this was Glinda’s room—even if the blonde woman herself hadn’t already been sitting awake at her desk, scrawling away at some parchment in front of her.

Elphaba’s chest tightened. It felt like it had been so long since she’d seen Glinda, and she found herself taken aback by the degree to which just the sight of her affected her emotions. Tears welled in her eyes as she drank in the blonde curls, the pink dress, the dark eyes cast down at her work.

Darker than usual.

Even from outside, Elphaba could see the circles under Glinda’s eyes. Even the light in them, usually so bright and full of spirit, seemed dim. And was it the shadows, or did she look thinner? Her hair flatter?

Glinda looked up from her writing as if on instinct, and Elphaba froze as they locked eyes.

And then the eye contact broke as Glinda looked away quickly, bringing her hand to her face as if to bite down on her knuckles. Elphaba couldn’t see much of her face anymore, but she could make out a string of tears running down Glinda’s cheek. Maybe Glinda hadn’t seen her after all?

She forgot any sense of stealth she had and surged forward to knock on the window, desperate to wipe the tears away and ask what was wrong. Maybe Glinda just had a rough day; maybe Elphaba could lend some comfort.

Glinda looked up again with the knock on the glass, and this time she didn’t look away. This time, she stared for longer than Elphaba could tell, her tears running dry. But she didn’t make any move to answer the door.

Elphaba hesitated, then knocked again before offering a nervous wave. Please let me in, she thought. Please don’t send me away. I miss you. I love you.

Glinda stood up this time and faltered as she stepped toward the door. She patted her eyes, a habit Elphaba knew she had to preserve her carefully made-up face, and crept closer. Wary, like a wild animal.

She reached the door and turned the handle slowly, letting the door drift open just a few inches before stepping back.

Elphaba caught the door and stepped inside, eyes glued to the woman she’d thought she would never see again. What was she supposed to say now? This was the part she could never quite imagine in her daydreams.

“Elphie?”

Glinda’s voice came out small and cracked, and new tears welled in her eyes as she stared back.

“Yeah,” Elphaba said. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“How?”

“A trap door,” Elphaba said simply. “I’m sorry, Glinda. I wish it didn’t have to be like that, and I understand if you’re angry, but I just—”

Elphaba’s breath caught as Glinda rushed the last few steps toward her, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

Elphaba hugged her back, burying her face in Glinda’s hair and breathing deep the scent of her familiar perfume. Her hands clutched at the frilly pink dress in an attempt to hold her even closer, her heart thundering so strongly that she was sure Glinda must be able to feel it.

“I can’t believe it,” Glinda breathed. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re alive.” She shook her head. “I thought I was seeing things.”

“I’ve missed you,” Elphaba said. “It’s been so hard staying away. But—” She pulled out of the embrace and ran a gentle hand down Glinda’s cheek, feeling the sharp angles under her skin. “I came because there’s been word around Oz that you’re unwell. What’s wrong, darling? Are you ill?”

Glinda stared at Elphaba and shook her head. “I thought you were dead.”

“I—I know,” Elphaba said. “But if you’re sick, I can find a way to help.”

“I thought you were dead, Elphie,” Glinda repeated, and Elphaba’s heart clenched as she realized the meaning of those words.

“Oh, Glinda…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Glinda looked deep into Elphaba’s eyes, her own so tired and sad that Elphaba didn’t even know how to respond. “I would have played along. You know I wouldn’t have put you in danger. Why didn’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you,” Elphaba insisted. “I just—I thought it would better for you. Safer. If you believed it, you could just…live the life you were meant to, without worrying about where I was and what I was doing. I thought you could be happy that way.”

“Happy?” Glinda frowned. “Happy that my best friend was gone? That she wouldn’t get to live the life she deserved?” She shook her head. “I know we said goodbye. That doesn’t mean I could live with your…your death.”

“I’m sorry,” Elphaba said again. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I was wrong.”

“Yeah,” Glinda said shortly. “You were.”

Her expression softened, and she hugged Elphaba again—not as tightly this time, but gentle and so fervent that all Elphaba could do was melt into her arms.

“I’m so glad you’re not dead, though,” Glinda said with a tearful laugh. “I’ve dreamed every day that you would somehow come back, and now…”

“Me, too,” Elphaba murmured. She pressed a long kiss to the side of Glinda’s head and closed her eyed. She could stay like this forever, wrapped in her friend’s embrace. Never mind that she wanted more—this was still more than she thought she’d ever have again. “I wish I could stay,” she breathed.

Glinda’s hands tightened on her cloak. “Please don’t go yet.”

“If anyone catches me here…”

“I’ll make them mind their own business,” Glinda said. “Please, Elphie.”

“Okay,” Elphaba said. After all these years, she still couldn’t say no to Glinda. She hoped that wouldn’t bite her in the ass. “All right. I’ll stay a while longer.”

“Yes!” Glinda perked up and ran her hand down Elphaba’s arm to take her by the hand and pull her toward the bed. “Tell me everything. Where are you living? Are you doing all right?”

Elphaba sat across from Glinda on the plush mattress, close enough that they could keep holding hands. “Yes,” Elphaba said, “I’m doing fine. It’s been very…quiet.” She glanced out the window to the rolling hills that lay between the city and her little cottage. “There’s a tiny village just a little bit east of the city. Fiyero and I have a cottage at the edge of the woods beyond it.”

Glinda smiled fondly, but there was something else under it, like a hint of sadness tinting her gaze. “You’re still with Fiyero, then?”

“It’s nice having familiar company,” Elphaba said. “So, yes, we live together. But it’s not like that. It never has been.”

Glinda tilted her head. “What do you mean? He ran away to be with you.”

“To help me,” Elphaba said. “With the cause. He did feel something for me, but…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t reciprocate. I love him, but not that way.”

Glinda leaned forward, her fingers closing tighter around Elphaba’s. They were so close that Elphaba could see the patterns in Glinda’s irises, the gleam of her glossy pink lips. Her face flushed as she tried not to look at them for too long.

“You’re not seeing anyone, then?”

“No,” Elphaba said. I’ve only ever had eyes for you, she thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. What if she was misreading the situation? Glinda had always been physically clingy. The contact and the proximity could mean nothing. Or...

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Glinda said quietly, and Elphaba’s heart nearly stopped.

Glinda was leaving this decision in her hands. Elphaba was the one who had to leave, the one who had to hide. She was certain now that Glinda knew exactly how she felt, and now she knew Glinda felt the same.

But if she were to deny it…if she lied and said she only saw Glinda as a friend…she could leave with no strings attached. No possibility of such a forbidden romance lingering in the back of her mind as she returned to her simple village life.

Glinda would know the truth, of course, but it was about plausible deniability. One route was safe for Elphaba, and it wasn’t the one that included Glinda.

Even so, there was no way she could go back now.

Elphaba tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind Glinda’s ear, then leaned in to kiss her.

Glinda’s hands instantly moved to the sides of Elphaba’s face, where her thumbs gently caressed the freckled green skin. Her lip gloss tasted like strawberries, a scent Elphaba had occasionally picked up but couldn’t place among Glinda’s shampoo and perfume. And as Elphaba’s hands settled on Glinda’s hips, she found herself so overcome with emotion that her tears wet Glinda’s face, too.

Glinda drew back a moment to wipe Elphaba’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

Elphaba laughed and rubbed her eyes to dry them. “I’ve never been better.”

“Good.” Glinda smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. Elphaba could tell what was coming just a moment before Glinda tackled her down onto the bed, straddling her to pepper her face with kisses.

“Hey!” Elphaba complained. She reached up to tickle Glinda’s sides, and with a squeal, Glinda fell to the other side of the bed just long enough for Elphaba to lean over her, sprawled out and tangled the way they used to lie after long study sessions at Shiz.

“No fair,” Glinda said. “You’re stronger than me!” She reached up to twine her fingers through Elphaba’s hair, pulling her head down for another kiss.

They lay like that for a long moment, kissing and giggling like schoolgirls, before Elphaba sighed and lay back, allowing Glinda to curl against her and lay her head on her chest.

“I can visit you at your cottage, right?” Glinda asked. She lazily traced shapes onto Elphaba’s collarbone with her finger. “You’re always welcome here, of course, if you can make it. But…”

“Of course you can come,” Elphaba said. “For as long as Her Goodness’s work will allow,” she joked. She ran a hand over Glinda’s silky hair. “I’m proud of you, you know. For the work you’ve done. We’re already seeing change, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“Oh, no,” Glinda said. “No, Elphie. You and I both know I would have been useless if it weren’t for you.” She laughed. “Turns out popularity isn’t everything, huh?”

“It certainly doesn’t hurt,” Elphaba said.

“Maybe one day I can use it to make Oz safe for you again.”

Elphaba laughed. “I don’t know about all that,” she said. “But in the meantime, we still have tonight.”

“And many more nights to come.” Glinda smiled and tapped the tip of Elphaba’s nose with her finger.

“Many more,” Elphaba agreed before planting another kiss on Glinda’s lips. “Let’s make the most of it, my love."

[crimeronan]

also important to me that sol has never wavered or regretted getting 8,000 abortions. i'm so over characters who are like "well, i never meant to get pregnant and have never wanted children, but now i'm imagining being a mommy and think babies are cute so this is my little miracle!! 😊" BOOOOOOO!! ENOUGH HAPPY PREGNANCY PROPAGANDA!! YOU CAN'T GET ME SHINZO ABE. KILL THAT THANG.

[sister-lucifer]

Randy Jade dividers, pretty please? Swan themed too, since he fights swans...

(Randy Jade from Dialtown by DirectDogman.)

If you don't want to, that's perfectly okay! It's a small fandom so... 😅

📱Randy Jade Dividers🩹

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

DNI: TERFS, endo, proship, pro ana, nazi, MAPs, zoophiles

tag list: @ghostboneswrites2 @savanaclaw1996 @lordhavemercyyyyy @bloodythornsandskulls

@und3ad-mutt @ribbed-scythe @idkwhatto-namethis @nothers @yourlocaltrasheater

@ang3l-d1nn3r @puppy-monst3r @orisaspirin @bunnyb0yy @blindweb

@worstwolverinesbf @wardenofbanland @weirdest-worlds

[if you’d like to be on the tag list for dividers, please leave a message in my inbox]

[ziekkfreak2-0]

"Waow... Big lady..."

Realized I haven't been playing with vibrant colors recently so I drew my two OCs if they met as adults.

[bratbby333]

nsfw 𓆩⟡𓆪 mdni !!

dating toji feels like an 808 bass drum pounding in your chest...

...and his thick cock feels the exact same way as it ruins your pretty little pussy

cw: fem!reader, public sex, p in v, rough sex, pet names (doll, pretty girl)

he's over protective and territorial, his brooding jealousy and tight grip on your waist shoots pangs of arousal through you whenever the two of you go out. blood rushes to your eardrums, the rhythmic thump mimicking the pulse in your core.

he loves making it known that you’re his. he’s like your own personal bodyguard, scowling at anyone in the bar who dares to let their eyes linger too long on his pretty girl.

you attempt to ignore the gnawing ache in your core, but god does he make it hard. he doesn’t even have to do much either—he’s practically trained your body to respond to him regardless of what he’s doing.

he voices how pretty you are in a raspy whisper against your neck, nipping at the skin behind your ear. his large hand cups the small of your back, grips your hip tight— honestly whatever he can get his hands on. his fingers run up and down your thigh, digging his fingers into the squishy flesh, a bruising reminder of who you belong to. if you’re feeling real bold, sometimes you try and rile him up on purpose just to get a good, nasty fuck outta him.

and you always succeed.

your plan is set in motion when he gets up from the table to grab another round of drinks, shamelessly allowing some drunkard to flirt with you.

silly, silly girl. oh, you've done it now.

toji's a multifaceted lover; nice n slow sometimes, brutal and mean the next. a jack of all trades. you never really know what you're gonna get—which is why you're eyes are blown wide, your breath stuck in your throat while he has you pushed against the sink in the bathroom, fucking himself deep into you.

to be fair, this is the outcome you wanted, but you didn't expect it here. you know just the right way to push his buttons.

he wraps his fist around your throat, squeezing your sensitive skin so tightly, his hips meeting your ass with every unforgiving stroke.

he's just so thick, you'd think you'd be used to it by now, but it's like you're taking him for the first time all over again. but god, you just cannot get enough of the way he stretches you...the sweet burn of his girth coupled with the fat head of his cock that seems to brush into your g spot without failure...your gushy walls swallowing him whole, the squelching sounds ringing through the bathroom, bouncing off the linoleum walls.

he just knows his pretty girl too well. his hips snapping over and over and over, driving himself so fucking deep. his veins rubbing against the pillowy walls of your pussy. the pretty whines that can't help but escape your lips.

poor thing, you're trying so hard to keep quiet, but he's fucking you so hard and he's so deep, you can't help but cry out for him.

his fist wraps around your hair, pulling your head up. "look at you," he'd coo, his voice raspy, "so pretty while yer takin' my cock," his pace is unyielding, and his eyes bore into yours with every push.

your sinful ahh's and ooo's and oh fuck's are silenced by a firm hand over your mouth. "keep quiet, pretty girl. don't wanna get caught now do we?" your head shakes, your tummy churning with pleasure as he pounds into you.

maybe if he wasn't fucking you so hard you'd be able to keep it down. he's so smug, so teasing. his eyes dare you to make another sound, his cock taunting you to cry out once more. "you gonna cum?" you whine into his hand as sweet tears brim behind your eyes, your head bouncing up and down in confirmation.

"that's it, c'mon...be good f'me." his words send chills down your body as his fingers draw quick circles into your clit. the tightness in your core finally snaps as you choke on your moans, your orgasm clawing its way through you. his follows soon after, unable to resist the delicious clenching and spasming of your walls as you milk his load from his heavy balls. his thick seed coats your insides, a mixture of both your cum dribbling out around his cock and trickling down your thighs.

he quickly pulls out and slides your panties back up, a dark spot appearing immediately from the fluids that are spilling from you. your thighs tremble and knees buckle as you work to regain your breath. he chuckles at the sight, "yer okay, did s'good."

he stares at your reflection in the mirror as he tucks himself back into his jeans, a look of accomplishment and a cocky smirk pulling at his cheeks at the thought you walking around full of him, a sticky reminder of you really belong to.

"c'mon, doll, let's get back out there."

[jadeoru]

shame marathon! - iwaizumi x reader

after begrudgingly agreeing to see the minions movie with his friends, he hoped no one would see him in this state: dressed in small denim overalls, with yellow face paint sloppily smeared all over his face.

unfortunately for him, the person serving him popcorn was exactly his type.

warnings: minions. this is so stupid lmao, iwa dressed like a minion, terrible jokes, deadpool is awesome, awkwardness, cursing, terrible flirting, clu declared this silly and whimsical!!, fluff! wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent i work in a cinema and was overwhelmed by the amount of grown people dressed as minions LMAO ^__^

Iwaizumi had never felt true shame until now. His denim overalls were far too small for him, so he walked cautiously - scared that if he flexed his biceps even slightly, the buttons would pop off. He regretted every action he made that led him to this moment. Embarrassment heated his face as he watched his friends enthusiastically hide their candy stash in their pockets. They looked ridiculous: sporting the same overalls as he was. At least theirs actually fit them. Their faces were poorly painted yellow, and some of them (Bokuto and Hinata) even went as far as to wear goggles. He buried his hands in his pockets, silently hoping that even by only covering his hands, somehow, magically, the rest of him would be hidden too. With a tap on the shoulder, his shame was quickly put on hold, now focusing on his yellow best friend, Oikawa.

“Oh come on grandpa, lighten up. Would it kill you to have fun?” He nudged him with his elbow, and Iwaizumi groaned in response. “Why are we even seeing this movie? We’re grown fucking adults! This is- this is ridiculous!” He released one hand from the security of his pocket, running it through his hair, trying to wipe away the sweat that had formed. “Excuse you! Minions is a cinematic fucking masterpiece. I will not let the fact that I'm an adult get in the way of enjoying art!” Bokuto chirped in, his expressive face wonderfully displaying the excitement that surged through him. Iwaizumi’s voice decreased in volume, a clear sign of giving up. “Did we have to go out in public like this? Why couldn’t we have just, i don’t know, stayed home?” as much as he tried to persuade his socially fearless friends to just go home, to spare him the embarrassment of someone he knew seeing him in this state: dressed like a fucking minion, nothing he said would change their mind. “Because it’s funny! And imagine the look on kids’ faces when they see a whole group of minions pulling up to the movie!” It was Hinata's turn to convince him now, flexing his muscles in a half-hearted manner as he spoke, trying to ease iwaizumi’s woes. He wasn’t having any of it. “We shouldn’t be there anyways! It’s a kids movie!” he waved his hands in the air, exasperated, desperate to help his friends realise how utterly ridiculous they were.

Did they fear nothing? Was social anxiety a foreign concept to them? Kuroo slung his arm around his shoulder, a lazy grin stretched onto his face. “Dude, the minion costume isn’t gonna kill you. Plus, we’re all wearing one too so you aren’t alone. Quit complaining and have fun, loser.” He wiggled Kuroo off of him and rolled his eyes. “I agreed to do this when I was high! Now that I have a clear mind, obviously I don't want to do this! You guys totally took advantage of me!” His friends slowly inched further from the car as his complaining progressed. By the looks of it, he had about one minute to convince everyone to just go home, otherwise they’d already be inside the cinema.

Oikawa looked at him from over his shoulder, waving him over to catch up with them. “I’m sorry that your post-nut clarity is biting you in the ass right now, but quit being a wimp! You’re the big strong hunk of the group, you’re supposed to be fearless! Imagine what the ladies would think if they knew you were scared of minions!” his teasing words caused his anger to overpower his shame, quickly speed walking to catch up with everyone. “I’m not scared of the fucking minions!” he shouted at Oikawa, who’s head was turned away from him, holding in a laugh at how ridiculous his once-terrifying best friend looked. The whole group looked like a bunch of jaundiced babies. Everyone struggled to contain their laughter. Before he knew it, they were at the doors of the cinema. “Come on!” Hinata shouted, shoving everyone, including Iwaizumi, through the doors; not giving him a single second to turn around and make a run for it.

Trying to bury his shame, he let out a groan. Looking to his left, both Bokuto and Hinata were bouncing with excitement; their eyes scanned the prices of popcorn. As he thought of it, he realised their personalities were eerily similar to the minion’s. Now that they looked the part, he realised this was the closest he’d get to seeing the real thing. He smiled at that. Okay, maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe he should just have fun. With his hands on his hips, and that small smile on his face, he inserted himself back into the conversation his friends were having.

“Ew. you look terrifying when you smile.” Oikawa laughed, immediately making his newly found confidence plummet. “Fuck you! You don’t look so hot yourself, shittykawa.” He could feel the vein on his forehead throbbing with annoyance. “Not true! I make a gorgeous minion! I’m like Bob, the cute one!” He winked, Shoyo quickly jumped in. “Nuh uh! I wanna be Bob! He’s the little one right? I meet all of the Bob criteria!” Kuroo let out a laugh, “Sorry Oikawa, Hinata is way more of a Bob than you are. You’re definitely a Stuart.” Iwaizumi could’ve sworn he saw Oikawa’s eye twitching at that comment. He slowly turned his head to face Kuroo, giving him the nastiest dirty look he’d ever seen. “Tetsurou, with all due respect, I hope you wake up in the morning and there are fucking skid marks in your bed.” Oikawa spat his words at Kuroo as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. He hit him in the chest with his finger, poking him repeatedly to add to his threat. “Clearly you haven’t done your research before you showed up today because I am literally Bob in human form!” Oikawa whined. Iwaizumi let out a cackle that quickly silenced the group. “He’s right, you are absolutely a Stuart.” he spoke through laughter. Oikawa looked at him with betrayal in his eyes. “Well if I’m Stuart, then that makes you Kevin.” Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? I’m not Kevin.” Bokuto chuckled, “You are absolutely Kevin!” his eyebrows furrowed, “How?” He got a smile in response. “Well, for starters you have an abnormally stretched head, you’re a know-it-all, and you take care of everyone. Face it bro, you’re Kevin the minion!” Iwaizumi gritted his teeth. “What’s wrong with my head? It’s shaped completely normally, prick!” he shouted, garnering the attention of the surrounding children. “It’s definitely Kevin shaped!” Whatever. 

He scoffed, not wanting to lose any more brain cells from this conversation than he already had. He looked at his watch. 9:21pm. 9 minutes until the movie started. “Let’s just get our tickets and get this over with.” He mumbled, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his watch: his yellow face in all of its glory. Oikawa stopped him before he could begin walking, taking a step in front of him. “Not without popcorn! We can’t watch a movie without popcorn!” He yelled dramatically, more people around them started staring. Iwaizumi wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Let’s get your stupid popcorn then.” he grumbled, placing a firm hand on his friend’s wrist, Oikawa quickly yanked it away. “Can you just get it for us? I wanna take pictures of us before the movie starts!” He smiled, pulling his phone out and fixing his hair in front of the camera. “So you’re gonna make me talk to the staff on my own? While I look like this?” he huffed, staring at him with irritance. “Trust me this is not your worst look, Iwa. Remember your bowl cut phas-” he cut him off with a nudge to the back, bumping him forward with his elbow. “Shut up! Fine, I'll go. What kind of popcorn are we getting?” He massaged his temple with his fingers in an attempt to soothe the headache that was forming. “Butter!” Hinata shouted, Kuroo nodding behind him. “Gross! Get salted!” Bokuto shouted back, sticking his tongue out; feigning disgust. Oikawa, the tie-breaker, looked at Iwaizumi with shrugged shoulders. “Just get one of each, I’ll pay you back.” Iwaizumi glanced at his watch again. 5 minutes until the trailers started. “Whatever.” he muttered under his breath, quickly turning on his heels and making his way towards the counter.

He was so focused on being fast and time-efficient he almost forgot that he was dressed up like a minion. He almost forgot how stupid he looked. And as he reached the counter, a line quickly forming behind him; leaving him with no chance to flee,

He saw you.

In front of him, stirring nacho cheese with your back facing him, he watched in silence. Maybe it was the shame of seeing your reaction to his current state, but he was nervous. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and stuffed his hands into his pockets once more, fingers fidgeting with his money.

“Uh, excuse me?” he spoke politely, but loudly, trying to catch your attention. You turned around to face him and god, he felt as if his body was set on fire. Embarrassment washed over him like a wave as you jumped slightly at the unexpected sight. “Oh! Sorry!” you smiled, amused by the man in front of you. “What can I do for you?” His fists clenched, and with white knuckles he regrettably made the realisation that you might’ve been the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. For fuck’s sake. Of all times to meet a person like you, it just had to be when he was dressed up like a fool. With yellow fucking face paint, and tiny overalls. He felt guilty for just looking at you.

“Um- could I get 2 medium popcorns?” he cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound deeper, to make up for, well, what was happening on his face. “One salt, and one butter. Please.” He avoided eye contact. If he could be grateful for one thing in that moment, it was that the yellow paint concealed his blush. “Coming right up!” He could hear the slight chuckle in your voice, trying desperately not to laugh at a customer. “Nice outfit by the way. Let me guess, you’re seeing longlegs?” You joked, grabbing a popcorn bucket and shovelling the plain popcorn into it. Iwaizumi laughed - a lot harder than he should have. Was he laughing with nervousness? Were you just so pretty he couldn’t help himself? Were you laughing with or at him? A thick cloud of questions circled in his mind like a cyclone. But the sound of your laughter fading quickly calmed it down. “How’d you know?” he attempted to joke back. He spoke through a smile, gritted teeth trying to hide the embarrassment that danced on the tip of his tongue.

You laughed again, walking further from the counter to add butter to the popcorn. You hummed to a melody only you could hear in your mind, knees bending up and down in a subtle dance. You turned back to face him again, handing him the now buttered popcorn.

“Are they with you?” you asked, pointing at his minion friends behind him, who were dancing as Oikawa recorded them. He rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately yeah. This was their idea. You have no idea how embarrassing this is.” he spoke quieter, causing you to lean in closer to listen, grabbing another empty popcorn bucket. “I don’t think it’s embarrassing. If anything, it’s cute! This job gets boring really easily so seeing people dressed up like you just makes my day!” You weren’t looking at him while you spoke, partly because you weren’t capable of making eye contact after calling him cute, and also because you needed to focus on making sure the popcorn actually landed in the bucket.

He gulped, suddenly way too aware of his sweaty palms. Was he going to make it out of this interaction alive? He doubted it. Honestly, he didn’t care. He was just glad you were talking to him; treating him normally. As if he wasn’t currently about to sweat the yellow off of his face. Noticing the silence that formed around you, he continued the small talk. “So.. You uh, you work in a cinema right? You a big fan of movies?” He straightened his back, flexing his height. His face almost scrunched up with disgust at how pathetic he sounded. You mixed the salt into the popcorn as you spoke. “Honestly, I'm more of a fan of older stuff. Nowadays people just don’t make movies like they used to. Ah- Except for minions, of course.” You winked at him, unaware of how you almost made his heart stop. “I’ve been meaning to see the new Deadpool too, actually.” you spoke at the perfect pace for him to process and cherish each syllable that left your lips. Oh god, he really was pathetic.

Grabbing onto the second popcorn bucket you handed him, he struggled to mirror your smile. “I love deadpool!” He lied. He had never seen a single Deadpool movie in his life. Hopefully you wouldn’t quiz him on his plot knowledge. You smiled again, “It’s so funny!” He nodded in response, not trusting whatever lies would come out of his mouth. You typed something into the register, and then told him his total. He forgot about that. Trying to balance the popcorn, he reached into his pockets and pulled his money out, handing it to you with shaky hands. You thanked him and placed it neatly into the register.

Before you could utter your classic ‘Have a nice day!’ he spoke up again. “Hey uh. How about we see the new Deadpool movie together sometime? - when you’re free of course.” He clutched the popcorn buckets for support; stability. Like if you said no, he could retreat inside of them and hide away forever. Had he misread the whole situation? Did you actually hate him and feel repulsed by the sight of him? He hoped he was wrong. You totally liked him too, right? You leaned forward onto the counter, almost close enough to feel the breath that escaped his lips. “Are you asking me on a date? Am I getting asked out by a minion?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your tone. He cleared his throat, almost choking on his spit in the process. He was so embarrassed it hurt. “Do you want me to?” He choked out - His desperate expression matched his voice. You giggled, holding your chin in your palm. “Maybe I do.”

He almost dropped the popcorn after hearing those words fall from your lips. This time, his smile was natural; wide enough to make his eyes squint. “Awesome! So uh.. When are you free?” he asked, getting lost in your gaze in the most cliché way possible. Your eye contact broke as you acknowledged the long line that had accumulated behind him. Where did these people come from? With a sigh, you looked back at him. “Sorry, would you mind if we planned this later? I need to get back to my job.” You spoke sweetly, pretending to gag at the thought of working another hour. “I could give you my number?” you asked, with a hopeful glint in your eye.

He never said yes faster in his life.

Grabbing a ballpoint pen from your pocket, you wrote your phone number down on a napkin and neatly folded it up, handing it to him. He eagerly grabbed it, placing it in his pocket. He muttered a shy thank you, to which you nodded. “See you later, minion boy.” you joked, the smirk on your face was decorated with cheeks that were hot to the touch. His eyes widened as he realised, he hasn’t even told you his name. “Oh, it’s Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi Hajime.” He almost forgot his own name. You introduced yourself in return. Was it possible to fall in love with names? Because nothing had ever sounded better to him in his life.

“See ya.” he said, repeating your name. It rolled off his tongue like a fluent language. You winked, “Later, Iwa.”

You texted him later that night, when the both of you were at home. You were free tomorrow, and there was a Deadpool screening at 10am. He had to pull an all-nighter that night to:

One: watch the deadpool movies,

Two: plan how he was going to talk to you,

And three: come up with witty jokes that would make you laugh.

He hoped you would like normal him more than the minion version.

[thateldribitch]

To Be Tender

Yandere Floyd/Reader; Yandere Jade/Reader. Briefly mentioned Yandere Azul/Reader.

Word Count: 2114

Kind of part of a series, could be read as standalone though. Here's part one!

CW: Possessive behavior, kidnapping, yandere behavior, the tweels being grabby and creepy (but not sexual.) The ocean. Conditioning and manipulation. We're getting psychological this time bitches.

“Darling….” A warm breath makes your eyes flutter in the false dawn. The magical lights begin to tick past the faint blue of the night cycle to an early morning gray. The faux stars dim. The projected moon clicks off. A groan trickles past your lips… petering off into a whine as his limbs untwine from yours. Cold. You curl into a ball, soaking up the warmth draining from the bed. A hand strokes through your hair, tenderly. Warm lips press to your forehead. “...business trip… evening…. Back before you know it….”

Words drift in and out of your barely thawed consciousness. Too cold to go to sleep; too sleepy to fully wake. A quiet chuckle escapes Azul’s lips, as he swaddles you in a sinfully soft blanket. It’s weighted…. And that too-light feeling fades with a sigh of comfort. Sinking… back into sleep…. Hours later… the bulbs in the walls begin to burnish to a sunshine-gold… your eyes flutter open. 

You scream into your goddamn pillow.

Even the fabric smells like him. The blanket is worse, though. Gods, whenever he leaves like this he swaddles you in soft blankets, weighted and covered in his cologne. The texture feels all too similar to his skin, the plush softness of his caecilian body…. It should disquiet you. It used to. And yet you’ve been Pavlov’d into relaxing beneath the false warmth and weight and scent….. Spitefully, you kick the blanket off of you and curl into a ball.

It’s worse when you remember he only gives you the blankets when he’s not in bed with you. Because why would you need anything but his body to keep you comfortable? You’re just glad he stopped using his body as the bedding. You have something akin to a mattress now. It’s. An upgrade. Sort of…. More nest-like than anything you’re used to, but it’s… comfortable, at least. But it’s still too cold without a blanket. Or Azul. Pinching your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to eke out a few more minutes of very uncomfortable sleep. It’s more irritable half-awareness, though; meditative, almost.

The lights eventually warm to something akin to mid-morning light. It stirs you like clockwork. Gritting your teeth, you sigh and stumble up and out of bed. You clumsily swim into the kitchen with groggy little kicks. There’s a lovingly prepared plate waiting for you. A thick slab of meat perfumes the water with a mouth-watering marinade. It takes you a moment to realize it’s an orca’s flank. With its contrasting skin delicately flayed and its teeth artfully scattered around the plate’s edge, the cut glistens on a bed of sea-greens. 

It’s fresh. And warm. Domestic, with the intimidating hint of showing off—look what I can kill for you. Look at how strong I am, how capable. But not only that, but it’s purposefully seasoned to your tastes. For a moment… you just stare at it. It’s conditioning. You know it’s conditioning. Bile rises into your throat. Hunger falls to a distant memory. Instead, desperation rises. A need. A need to get out, you need to get out before his calculated attempts at Stockholm syndrome really start to work. 

You smack the plate off the counter, breathing heavily. The meat sinks. The greens float and scatter. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. The exit is clear. An open cave, a crack in the trench wall. This is your prison. But why would he need a locked door or bars to keep you where he wants you. The intimidation of the exit is so effective in the first place. The abyss stretches out before you—a yawning, frigid maw beyond the temptingly enchanted light and heat of Azul’s cavern. But your heart beats restlessly. It’s a constant tempo of your need for freedom.

It takes many start-stops; many failed attempts of trying to gain the courage to brave the darkness again. Even more so to move through it. Because the trench just consumes. Life, light, everything. Even though you must not be more than a few feet out—is it only a few feet? It feels like miles. Like a current dragged you down further and you just couldn’t feel it because it’s so damn cold. You’re numb. Okay. Okay, no, calm down. Calm down. There’s not a living thing in these icy depths, nothing beyond what Azul lets into the trench. It’s as if even the most fearsome predators quake at the idea of entering such dangerous, dark waters. It’s. Fine.

Move.

You’ll never get used to swimming through pure ink. It’s directionless. No up, no down—just black. The only sound is the bubble of your breath and the pound of your heart. But the darkness swallows that too. It’s not alive. But it feels like it. A weight, a presence, a monster. Where’s the cavern? Fuck. Fuck, you went out too far, where’s the ledge, you usually use the cavern’s edge to guide yourself up. Fuck…. It’s so cold. Dark, so dark, so cold. Up. Down? Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—

“My oh my,” a voice sings out in the dark, “Another escape attempt so soon?”

You turn towards it. From the opposite direction, a body crashes into you, sharp teeth sinking pointedly into the back of your neck. It doesn’t hurt. More like. Scruffing a kitten, really. Just with sharper teeth. Instinctively, you fall limp, gasping for breath. Floyd coos as he releases his toothy grip. He rubs his cheek against the back of your neck. He’s warm. Unfortunately warm. Wrapping around you like a living blanket, all velvet skin and soft hair. Floyd can be unfortunately gentle when he wants to be. A content few clicks escape him as he feels you curl into his warmth, nosing closer to him as the chill is burned from your skin. Another shiver—this time, in self-disgust. You hate that this is comforting. You hate that you can breathe easier at the sight of Jade’s golden eye bobbing in the dark. 

“And oh so injured. Dear, you mustn’t push yourself like this…. Not when you’re hurt,” Jade lets out a put-upon sigh. Something’s running over your bandages. Pain blooms. Panic bursts like a firework, brief and bright, until your mind registers that it’s Jade’s fingers skimming over your injured ankle. 

“Fuck you, Jade,” you hiss.

“If you’d like,” he responds with a small smile that barely shows the points of his teeth. They glitter in the glow of his brother’s gaze, like some monstrously illuminated, razor-sharp smirk. You glance away, glaring off into the darkness. He chuckles softly. “Come along. Let’s get you warm.”

He says that like you have a damn choice…. There’s no such thing as personal space with these two. Floyd’s iron grip constricts you to the point that you wheeze out a breath. Jade’s so damn close that you can feel him twining like a protective ribbon around you and his brother. The one benefit you’ll give to this is that it’s warming you up pretty quickly. Though, you do try and flinch away as Jade rubs at your icy fingers. Sure, it gets feeling back into them, but…. 

“Hey. Close your eyes, Toadfishie,” Floyd rubs his cheek against your head, mussing up your hair. You didn’t even realize your eyes were open…. “You’ve been in the dark for a minute. Don’t wanna hurt’cha.”

Begrudgingly, you squeeze them shut… even if it goes against your every instinct. Why would a prey animal want to close their eyes around a predator, after all? A shiver claws its way up your spine as the familiar heat of the cavern spills over you. A relieved breath puffs out of your lips, as you melt against the twins. You can’t… help it. The gentle fussing feels so tender. Fingers skim over your ankles. 

Maybe you’re a little delirious. Maybe you just… need the comfort, need that tense feeling squeezing your heart to just ease. Just a little. But then Floyd licks at the bite mark he left on your neck—and your whole body goes stiff as a board. Struggling, you squirm out of his arms and right into Jade’s. He clucks his tongue, tucking you tightly against him as he cleans the faintly bleeding tooth marks. 

“...Easy now, Pearl,” he murmurs, voice far softer than usual. “...I just don’t want this to get infected.”

“You don’t have to lick me to do that,” you point out, almost bonking your head against his chin. One of his arms cages you against his chest; the other holds your head, gentle but firm. Completely immobilized, all you can do is spit curses and kick your feet a bit. You feel his smirk against your neck. 

“It’s faster,” he chuckles. His thumb swipes gently over your cheek, just barely skimming the corner of your lips. You learned a long while ago not to bite them…. But it is tempting. Not that your useless teeth could have punctured their skin anyway. 

They like pointing things like that out…. Because their ‘courtship’ has a lot less to do with bribery and conditioning, and more with showing off. Look how strong they are, how capable. They like… proving themselves? They catch increasingly deadly meals. Orcas, giant squids, sharks—proving they can provide for their mate and young, they told you once. That they can protect you. It makes you shiver. At least Azul doesn’t admit things like that with a big, toothy grin. The honesty is… almost refreshing. It’s not a song and dance of subtle manipulations and calculated softness. But it’s still—

“Jaaaaaaaaade, Toadfishie spilled their food,” Floyd pouts, poking at the floating pieces of your meal. 

“Have you eaten at all this morning?” Jade murmurs, eyes narrowing. In concern? Frustration? It’s so hard to tell sometimes. Their features are so alien. What you do know is that they all hate it when you don’t eat. Sharply, you inhale as you feel him trying to get you to subtly look him in the eye. You glance at him, glance away. Anywhere but that damn golden eye. “Pearl—” 

“No, I didn’t, okay?” You writhe in his grip, uncomfortably screwing your eyes to the wall. “I-I—” You start, then abort the sentence. They don’t deserve an explanation. Trusting them with your fears, even if they can guess at them, makes your skin crawl. You’re not going to tell them anything more than what they demand to know.

“...What would you like to eat?” Jade murmurs, after a moment. You open your mouth, shut it. They won’t get you surface food. You’ve asked before. They don’t let you have anything that reminds you of the surface…. Except for clothes, but even those are more in the style of merfolk nobles. All clinging clothes that can’t get caught in the current; fancy embellishments over scales or skin. 

“Mmmm,” Floyd’s displeased hum, bordering on a growl, is your only warning before he snatches you out of Jade’s arms. It knocks the wind out of you. Even more so as he starts swimming back to the entrance of the cavern. “Let’s go to the surface.”

His offer startles you, as you jerk your head to him in shock. It must surprise Jade too, because he immediately swims in front of his impulsive twin. “Floyd—”

“Jade, c’mon, they’re not eating. And they had a back-to-back escape attempt! Toadfishie needs to stretch a bit, they’re too cooped up. Bored!” He flails one arm out, the motion moving the water in a slight stream of bubbles. “Lookit their Toadfishie pout!” He squeezes your cheeks, then pushes his face against yours to ‘pout’ with you. 

“...We can’t just take them to the surface without telling Azul.”

“Then let’s get them surface food and bring it back—”

“I really do not think—” 

“He’s gonna be more mad if we can’t get ‘em to eat!”

“Mad is a strong word.”

“It’s fuckin’ accurate though!”

“He would be disappointed.”

“Disappointedly mad.”

“At us, perhaps.”

“...Yeahhhh, I can’t see him gettin’ mad at Toadfishie.”

“I still don’t think—”

“...Please?” Timidly, you glance up at them, then down. The two fall silent. Their golden eyes fall like heavy weights upon your quivering lips. Your tears are nigh invisible in the water, but one of them thumbs at your cheek regardless. The tiniest sniff escapes you, but it falls to small sobs. “I won’t try to run, I-I just— please.”

“...Alright, Pearl,” Jade softens. His forehead bumps against yours, hairlines brushing tenderly. A small hum rises in his chest, vibrates through your body. Almost soothes you. 

“Just please don’t cry, ’fishie,” Floyd murmurs, almost frantically nuzzling at your neck. 

…

…

…

It’s nothing but a hollow comfort.

Okay because I know some of y'all might question the nickname, Floyd calls you Toadfishie because: Reader is “slow” (compared to them anyway); likes to bite; and the sour look they give him reminds him of toadfish. Sounds unflattering but he thinks it’s cute lol.

Thanks for the kind tags and comments guys :D It really encouraged me to write this next piece!

[nightshade-writes-stories]

Twisted wonderland incorrect Quotes #34

{At jade’s funeral}

Azul: *puts hand on the headstone and sobs* How could you do this to me..

Azul: *sobbing harder* We are so understaffed.

[fluffle-writes]

Some more bracelets inspired by this post by @thegoldencontracts

[stellari-s]

30 day twst challenge: day 17

favorite original card art?

that would probably be jade halloween ssr for me! i love the way the fabric on his waist are sort of swooshed to give more "movement" to an otherwise still position. plus that expression... 👀✨ and also the way he's holding the bandages too. there's not a single doubt in my mind that there are only evil thoughts in his head, eheh. ☁️

[thirstforhelmets]

GanondorfandFarmer'sdaughter/Jade: Dad?

Ganondorf: *Relaxing with her in the field after a fun day horse/cowback riding*

Ganondorf: Yes, My Dear Jade?

Jade: *Lays back against the grass*

Jade: I like it when you come and visit us.

Jade: Me and Mom.

Ganondorf: *Tries to be encouraging* And...?

Jade: *tenses up for a moment*

Jade: Well...!

Jade: I kind of...

Jade: Want that...

Jade: *quietly* A bit more often?

Ganondorf: *Expression darkens*

Ganondorf: I... apologize for not being around more often, My Dear Jade.

Ganondorf: But the Gerudo need their king.

Ganondorf: That does not make me love you nor your mother any less.

Jade: *Frowns in disappointment* Kind of feels like it though.

Ganondorf: ...

Ganondorf: I cannot give you more.

Ganondorf: But my feelings are sincere towards both of you.

Jade: Maybe... leave the Gerudo?

Ganondorf: That...

Ganondorf: Is one thing I can never compromise on, My Dearest Daughter.