#you cannot make yourself/your character ace

[zeynatura]

Prev post reminded me that i finally got to play Repurpose, a queer Visual Novel about people dying and ending up in Limbo :D

After playing the demo 2 years ago, i didn't even notice when they finished the game but alas i'm glad it's out, i got it on itchio in 2 bundles actually lol but if i didn't u bet i would have bought it separately

i have only played one route so far and it's Noel's (of course i went for the panro ace genderfluid character lmao) and i am very happy to say that there were more ace jokes and cake analogies than i thought there would be, i was pleasantly surprised!

[goldenstring6123]

hello ! wanted to say i really love your writing style and your stories for the characters ! I wanted to know if you’d write one for Love and deep space Sylus? A scenario where you’re both sleeping but you sneak away quietly to get something from the kitchen or for whatever reason but he stops you with his powers (the handcuffs etc) to bring you back to bed. I’m not sure if i’m making sense but something along those lines! please and thank you!

Sylus: Kitchen Sneaker

Warning: No warning. Fem!reader, domestic fluff (?)

Author's note: This is a fun domestic-ish prompt to write! I hope you like it my dear pookies <3

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Sylus was fast asleep beside you.

The man was a light sleeper for the sake of his own safety. According to him, even if the building was as secure as it could be, there were some instances where he woke up with a knife to his throat. However, ever since you began sharing the same bed, he had been sleeping like a log, which was good for him and the twins because they no longer had to deal with his hot head so early in the evening.

But it was bad for you. Simply because Sylus likes to hold you in his sleep. Sometimes his hand would be over your chest, groping your breast or squeezing in between your boobs, but most times, he would be holding your wrist, checking your pulse. How was this bad for you? Well, living alone for most of your adult life, you liked to indulge yourself in a midnight snack or two. With him holding you captive to the bed, his iron grip holding on to you, it was like you had a ball and chain around your body.

You've indulged Sylus for over a week now, but the intense midnight craving is overwhelming.

Tonight, it's food over Sylus. The man can wait. Food cannot.

You scooted his hand very, very, very gently away from your body. This man's hand is heavy and large. Sylus didn't move and continued to sleep peacefully, his exposed chest rising and falling calmly. The room was very cold, and you could even hear the blowing of the AC; it was at that moment that you realized how such small sounds seemed to be so loud at night.

With every step you take, you are holding your breath even more. Even against the carpet, the rustling of your feet seemed like it could stir Sylus awake at any second. Thankfully, you managed to traverse across the room like a spy. You even had to carefully close the door shut.

You used the stairs to get down to the kitchen, and while you were walking in the hallway, the chef was just about to leave, his satchel bag on his shoulder.

He and you made eye contact. You gestured to him to 'shush,' and he laughed.

"There's some leftover dessert and pasta in the fridge—feel free to eat it," he whispered, and you grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Greg is the best chef ever. You tiptoed to the kitchen, waving him goodbye. Your eyes landed on that double-door fridge that was whirring loudly.

Finally! You could taste that delicious panna cotta and aglio olio in your mouth. Your hands wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and as you tugged, the bright blue light of the fridge lit up your face.

You took the plate and settled it on the stainless steel counter. The next one was the small glass filled with chocolate and cream. You marveled at its delicate, savory look. You took a spoon from the nearby utensil holder and dug it into the soft texture, eager to get a taste.

Before it could land between your lips—

A cold whirlwind of black, scentless smoke wrapped around the fork. It flung out of your grasp, and before you could let out a peep, you, too, were flung away from the kitchen counter.

The man let out a grunt, his eyes low-lidded and foggy, clearly just woken up from his slumber.

"Pray tell," he gruffed, his voice an octave lower. "What are you doing in the kitchen? You're supposed to be in bed." Sylus let out a sigh while he brought you closer to him. He glanced behind you and saw the unopened plate of pasta and panna cotta.

"Never mind. You don't need to speak."

"I'm hungry! Don't you know you shouldn't get between a woman and her food?" you exclaimed while tugging at the thing around your exposed waist. You thrashed and thrashed, the straps of your nightshirt sliding down your shoulders. "Put me down and go back to bed! I'll be with you in five—no, fifteen minutes!"

His head was aching from all the noise you were making, and combined with the fact that you were out of bed by the time he woke up—to Sylus, it seemed like you were testing his patience. "Did you not eat enough during dinner time? You know you could've asked for second servings."

"I get midnight cravings on occasion, but when I'm sleeping over, you tend to weigh me down in bed," you explained, flailing your legs, which were a few feet off the ground.

"So, you're blaming me now?" Sylus raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. Of course, you were. It wasn't your fault you couldn't get out of bed, and it wasn't your fault that the chef made great food and desserts. He didn't like the look on your face but, regardless, put you down to the floor, his hand tugging your strap over your shoulders. His red eyes glazed over your bare chest, but he turned away, walking to that lonely plate of pasta.

"We're going back to sleep after you have your fill." Sylus unwrapped the plate and took a fork, twirling it and taking a bite. The oily, mild tinge of spiciness and Parmesan helped push him awake. He won't deny that the chef was good at his job—it was even enough for you to sneak out of his bed.

You mounted yourself onto the kitchen island, the cold marble surface cooling the bottom of your thigh. You took the panna cotta, and finally, the creamy and sweet flavor of chocolate and cream exploded in your mouth. Unconsciously, you nodded in approval of the taste.

Quietly, you ate in each other's company, occasionally making small talk. Sylus left the dish in the sink along with the fork, but when he turned to you, your nose was inside the refrigerator again. "Cake roll slice…" you uttered. The strawberry cake roll looked delicious inside the glass container.

Before you could even reach out to it, the smoke appeared at the very same spot, dragging you away from the fridge. Sylus closed the double-door refrigerator and crossed his arms right in front of you. A clear 'no' was plastered all over his face.

You let out a groan as he dragged you away with the smoky black and red rope around your waist.

When you got back to the bedroom, you expected Sylus to go right back to sleep. But instead, the man pulled a handcuff from underneath his pillow. How and why it was, there was a question you didn't want to ask him. Without another word coming out of his mouth, he chained it to himself and took hold of your wrist.

"No. You're not going to—"

He latched the real handcuff around your wrists and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him.

"Sleep."

The lights dimmed and flickered off at his word, and you just lay there, staring up at the canopy.

"I guess this is our bedtime routine now," you sighed.

"Sleep," he reiterated.

You seriously have no idea how you put up with this man.

Author footnotes: I also like to sneak out to the kitchen and eat but instead of sylus, It's my mom who sees me and then i get the clothes hanger beat up for staying up late at night lol.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[rel124c41]

LABORATORY LOVE. jade leech

It makes perfect sense that you are failing potionology, you come from a world without magic! You just wished your failures weren’t the recent entertainment to a certain vice-housewarden.

tags: developing relationship, character analysis, teeth analysis, teasing, potion accidents, 5 + 1 trope, comedy of errors, suggestive themes, & getting together

word count: 21,656

Since the beginning of your impromptu enrollment in Night Raven College, classes have taken your dizzy brain and swirled it around like mixed cake batter. Uncaring of your blunders, the courses march on. You have had multiple professors pull you aside for hush conversations about how: magic might not be something you should be studying; you’re showing great difficulty with this section, my door’s open for extra help; do you have any hobbies, perhaps you should look to pursue one of those. 

You wonder if they knew you were from another world entirely along with being magicless, their tone might change. Compared to others, you were leaps and bounds above where you should be. 

Not that you are aware of your competence. And, even then, it is never enough. Which is admittedly very frustrating. You do not like to be viewed as a failure or incompetent. 

Back at home, you were always on top of your studies, kept yourself afloat on a little canoe. In Twisted Wonderland, your limbs grow fatigue with how harshly you have to tread water to stay afloat. Constantly, you felt ready to drown. You manage to withstand it though, avoiding going under by keeping water a fine line across your chin and bottom lip. 

And, even then, that is never enough.

I. The scarab beetle was added before ginger root when the correct order is ginger root then scarab.

To be fair, you are tired beyond belief. You had to pull off your gloves multiple times to rub sleep out of your eyes. Switching up the order of the ingredients … This is one of the stupider mistakes you have made in Professor Crewel’s class. To be thoroughly fair, the anxiety about your recent situation coupled with sleeping on the uncomfortable spare bed in Leona’s room has been starting to kill your restful nights. 

What a well devised strategy. Chip away at the mental fortitude of a person by taking away physical comforts. Azul Ashengrotto truly knows where to point the arrow notched in his bow. 

You just wish he had chosen anyone other than you.

Yawning, you deposit the comatose scarab beetle into the cauldron. One second it is a black freckle on the gray-blue mixture, and then the next second it has been dissolved down to the bone. It ate it as quickly as acid does, you think awestruck, I’m glad I’m wearing gloves. Said gloved hand holds itself outstretched towards Ace, your lab partner, as you murmur, “Okay, hand me the ginger root now.”

“Huh? I already handed you that though,” Ace says, looking up from the logs of cinnamon he is cutting as instructed.

Usually you two have Grim do the physical labor, cutting up ingredients, while you and Ace uptake harder tasks. However, Grim is not free, called in for an impromptu shift during school hours. Part of you cannot comprehend how that is possible – to work during school – but another part of you cannot comprehend magic, so really the whole globe, this Twisted Wonderland, is incomprehensible. 

An incomprehensible globe where you make friends with the stupidest of the bunch. 

“No you didn’t; you handed me the next ingredient that had to go in.”

“Yeah, which was ginger root. Don’t tell me the fumes in here are making you stupider, Prefect. Your brain fried or something,” Ace asks. He tilts his head in a taunting way that is not effective due to the anemone sprouting from his skull.

“Says the one with the anemone coming out of his brains.”

“Hey! Just because you’re being forgetful doesn’t mean ya get to insult me!”

“Please don’t play smart with me right now. I just need —.” Your words fall out of your mouth as you catch the sight of ginger root sitting pretty on your side of the lab table, untouched and not in the potion. You blank, dumb, until a sudden heat wave washes over you.

Not a blush though you realize as a smoke cloud of brimstone blooms up mushroom-like from your cauldron. Your once squinting eyes widen in fear.

The potion releases a wave of gas as it evaporates away in seconds. It feels like getting punched with heat after opening an oven. As you stand there looking at the bottom of your cauldron, mourning your potion, you suddenly hear laughter in the midst of this new humidity.

“... No — HAHAHA — No fucking way! HAHAHAHAHA!!”

Dread fills you first upon hearing it. Whatever has Ace laughing and pointing at you is definitely not a positive in your book. Sevens above, you are not dealing with being potion-ed cat ears again. It must be something physical on you at very least. Because, Ace has not stopped pointing and bursts out between his bellows, “Now you match the part of looking like an idiot! HAHAHA!”

Annoyance quickly shoves dread to the side. Gut-instinct guides your hand before your brain can catch up. Clutching ginger root, you reel back your arm ready to whack Ace with it until a certain hand shackles your wrist. Shit.

“Ace! (Name)! Once again, this is unacceptable behavior from both of you. Did your parents pick you off the streets and neglect training?” Ah, you recognize those dog analogies anywhere. Curling in on yourself, you turn around to give Professor Crewel a sheepish smile while he keeps your wrist hostage.

“Sorry, Professor Crewel.” 

You would be delusional to think your potionology professor has a soft spot for you; he probably only sees you as a nippy Pomeranian or a Retriever freshly showered in mud. The scowl on his face is something you have come to be familiar with from August to November. 

Crewel sighs, “Luckily, these supplies are not hard to obtain. I’ll be sending both of you to fetch more ginger root and scarabs from the botanical gardens.” His steely eyes aim at you. “And Prefect, I suggest retrieving a hat for yourself. An unsightly look is one step away from a disorganized headspace. Try to be a bit more mindful, pup.”

“Yes, Professor Crewel.”

You have no idea where the fashion advice came from. However, you are not going to dig yourself a deeper hole by asking the Professor what he means by unsightly look and disorganized head. Besides with the way Ace is still biting down a grin, you expect that you will privy to it soon.

“Dismissed.” Professor Crewel sends you on your way.

As soon as you two round the cauldron, you and Ace are both immediately on one another. He grabs the back of your neck as you kick his shin. Idiot! No you’re an idiot! Says the idiot! Ace pinches your cheek as you give him a Chinese burn, grabbing his forearm and twisting it in your grip. I can’t believe you messed that up! At least I’m not signing contracts to cheat! Stumbling to the door, kicking and fighting with each other, you just barely catch the glimpse of Deuce sending a wince of sympathy your way. 

Ace sticks his finger in your ear. His spit-coated touch sends a shiver down your spine. Breaking your whispering, you caterwaul just as you push Ace and yourself out of Crewel’s classroom, “I’m gonna kick you where the sun don’t shine, asshat!” Ace’s cackles are the last thing the classroom hears before the door shuts firmly in place.

The botanical gardens are not somewhere you find yourself often. The mere size of it intimidates you greatly. Plus, it has so many dangerous things lurking inside of it like lion tails, man-eating plants, and carrots that when plucked incorrectly can send you into a coma just from a single scream. For your own growing trepidation, you choose to stay out for safety reasons.

Though splitting up is not your idea, you still concede to it. The guilt over your sleep-addled mistake speeds up your agreement. After all, it was you who switched the order. Thus, you walk around the botanical gardens looking to grab dandelion root (which came before the scarab beetle and ginger root) while Ace gathers a single scarab beetle. 

At least Ace takes up the more perilous task for you. Scarab beetles when provoked flicker on and off in a brilliant light display of red until it explodes. If the mage cannot match the rhythm of beeping reds with the light of their magic pen, the scarab self-destructs. It is hazardous for you to anywhere near an alive scarab. Besides …

Danger finds you like a faithful, old friend.

Standing on the little bridge that curves over the miniature river, danger arrives at your side like a mistress. “So pretty,” someone whispers breathlessly. You choose to ignore this, thinking someone is appreciating the flowers. Pamphlet in hand, you worry your bottom lip and consider which side of the bridge you have to walk down to find the dandelion roots. 

“He-Hello there, Prefect. Quite a nice day for a stroll, don’t you think?”

Caught off guard, you turn to see who is addressing you. It is one of those Octavinelle twins. He holds an empty  jar in his gloved hand. However, you are unsure of which one you are dealing with.

“Ah … yeah,” you twitch as you respond. Where the hell is Ace? You would rather not be alone with a mage that you saw send multiple students to the infirmary only two days ago. You remember it vividly: all the students rushing forward to tear up the contract, as Azul stood on the table, saying with fake direness, “Dear me, I really didn’t want to resort to violence, but alas. Jade. Floyd. Play with them for a bit.”

You shift your eyes away like one might avert the gaze of a stumbling, rabid raccoon. “Sure is … a nice day?” Truthfully, you don’t think you have had one of those in Twisted Wonderland. Your day has just gotten worse in the twin’s presence.

Under the canopy of black walnut leaves and palm washingtonias, you assess all your escape routes. Whichever twin this is, he is looking at you so intensely, eyes half-lidded and the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. It takes only a moment for you to realize he is staring at what lies on your head, but you have enough time to map your escape route.

“Well, it was nice seeing you –,” you start, heading down the bridge, in the opposite direction of the Octavinelle twin. You just barely make it a step and a half when he catches you off guard again.

“You have Potionology this period, yes? It is a Wednesday after all.” How the hell does he know that? 

Yet, hearing how he structures his words, you think you finally recognize which one it is … Jade, who had said to you just yesterday, “And if you’re in need of lodgings, feel free to come and speak with us. Reservations for guest rooms in Octavinelle dorm starts at 100 thaurmarks a night.” The last conversation that happened between you two. Eyes pinching down, you think, he’s such an asshat for saying that to you who is very much broke beyond broke.

“Yeah, I do.” You resume your steadyfast escape route. You can clearly hear Jade walk over the wooden bridge, following after you. 

“If my deduction is correct, it seems you have been caught up in the potion accident. What a most unfortunate turn of events; potionology is often a tricky subject for students to grasp.”

Yeah, and without magic or a basic education on this stuff, it’s impossible for me.  You send Jade a wary glance. Now matching strides, you really have no choice but to converse with him or your friends will probably suffer more during their shifts. “Yeah, I messed one up.”

But no one says you have to be verbose during it. 

You ponder on why Jade is so interested in the multiple sea anemones blooming from your head. When your scuffle with Ace finally ebbed, the Heartslabyul student turned on his front-facing camera so you could finally see what made you look like an idiot. A glowing crown of blue sea anemones form around your head.

You cringed, your matching visage on Ace’s phone doing the same. Of course you are not spared any break from humiliation; when you come back to your temporary lodgings, Leona is probably going to laugh up a sandstorm. Ugh … you hate that stupid lion!

Jade says, “I’ve noticed this happens to you frequently. In August, you gained cat ears and could only speak in crying meows. You were deaged down to a toddler on September 14th. Then in October, you underwent a body swap with your friend, Ace Trappola, for a full five days; Thursday through Monday. Am I correct?” How the absolute fuck does he know that?

“...Yeah.”

“You know, Octavinelle is always willing to help those in need. I, myself, can offer –”

“No thanks.” You glance at the pamphlet and take a sharp left turn. Jade follows.

“My, what a harsh rejection. How audacious of you to deny me when I am scheduled to train Deuce and Ace later on tonight. But, I suppose if that is how you feel –”

Begrudgingly, you turn around and frown, “Be easy on them, won’t you? Bye, Jade.” Snapping your pamphlet open wider, you continue on your way. 

What an idiot. You already stuck your neck out enough for them by signing Azul’s contract. Keeping polite conversation with Jade? You could do that. However, you will not take up another deal with Octavinelle anytime soon, unless … well, no, you think to yourself. That hovering ‘unless’ probably won’t happen with Jade. Whatever Jade needs, he can find elsewhere.

Dandelion roots should just be down a little farther; another right turn and you should be upon them. At least that is how your route would have gone if you were not grabbed and spun around by your shoulders. You stare into Jade’s dilated eyes in shock.

“Prefect,” his voice comes out more growl than speech. He soothes his fake humanitarianism voice with a cough and repeats, “Prefect. Just hear me out.” The vice-housewarden almost sounds desperate to keep your attention on him.

“Okay.” You try to ignore the close-lipped smile on his face as you fold up your pamphlet. “Okay.” Dandelion roots are one of the few non-sentient plants in this twisted wonderland, so you can pause your search for Professor Crewel for a mere moment. “I messed up a potion today, but I don’t need your help with it.”

Tutoring … from anyone. You despise the very thought. Before, you were so capable and so independent; now, you have to waver and bend yourself to the assistance of everyone in this alien world. God, you cannot even protect yourself from your day to day. The entire world outscales you like a final boss compared to a NPC.

“Are you absolutely certain? Who knows what kind of misfortune can fall upon you at the hands of a botched potion? Who knows, you could find yourself breathing in poisonous gas or having your intestines turned inside out. What an excruciating sensation.”

A whole body shiver runs down your spine. The fact that that is not out of the realm of possibility makes you loathe your existence in this world even more. Still … “What do you want from me?” … you have Ace and Grim at least making sure you aren’t blown to bits by an exploding cauldron.

“It is just a simple matter of the fungus growing from your head.”

“Fungus?”

Jade’s voice turns so fond that it startles another shiver from you. His lovestruck gaze fastens itself to the apparent mushroom crown sitting on your skull. “Entoloma Hochstetteri mushrooms. The non-scientific name is blue pinkgills.”

Bored and tired, you yawn. Jade glances down at your mouth with pervertish intrigue. It might just be the same amatory he regards the blue pinkgills with staying in his eyes. However, you can imagine him mocking you about having to sleep in Leona Kingscholar’s room so you screw your mouth into a frown.

And, as if reading your body language with ease, Jade offers, “If you are still having troubles with your lodging, I’d benevolently suggest a trade.”

“A trade?”

“A room in Octavinelle, free of charge; all to yourself and your dire-beast for the full two days left in your contract. In exchange, you will give me the Entoloma Hochstetteri blooming from your head. An item for another item. Fair, yes?”

“No.” You straighten your posture. “I want something everlasting; not just temporary satisfaction.”

“Oya? Whatever did you have in mind?”

This is something you have been pondering about for a while. Truthfully, you were considering it your very first week after the encounter with the overblotted creature in the mines. Taking a deep breath, you announce your only term, “I want protection against overblots.”

Jade’s optics grow, dilating and blinking in surprise. It is … simultaneously an extremely well thought out and dumb request. Protection is something you need. But with Jade, someone you barely just met, providing you protection? You neither seem like the type to trust people too quickly or too hold out trust until the very end. 

Immediately on detective mode, Jade tries to figure out your aim. “Overblots are very rare phenomenon. Do you –?” 

“Tell me more about these pinkgills,” you suddenly interrupt, noticing that he is slipping into doubt over this deal.

A hand covers over his erratic heart, and a small sliver of teeth peek through his smile. “Ah, I’d be delighted to. Blue pinkgills are quite mysterious. No one knows if they are edible because no one has dared to try them. There is a peninsula that features them on their currency as well. It is the only country to have a piece of currency featuring a mushroom on it; I’d be delighted to have the opportunity to visit it someday.”

“That’s really interesting. Are they rare to cultivate,” you ask, faking genuine curiosity. 

“Unfortunately, yes. They are native to that one peninsula and thus –”

“Hard to come by? Rare?” 

You supply Jade with the words he is looking for. Subtly, you remind him of the fact these limited mushrooms are just a person’s deal away. The blue halo on your head becomes more and more enticing to Jade by the second. Blue that also bleeds with the color, such a psychedelic hue that almost hurts to look at.

You look like an angel under it … You? Jade hesitates at his train of thought; that is not the conclusion he thought his mind would go to. 

“What a surprise fufu; you are not as brainless as I intentionally presumed, (Name).” Smitten emotion slowly drains from his dual-eyes as he takes in your visage whole, not just the prize hanging above your head.

This is good. Jack could protect me but he is only a first year mage. Ace and Deuce do a good enough job. Grim is only food motivated. Jade did send multiple students to the infirmary by himself. This – “I’m glad to prove such an intelligent mage such as yourself wrong. It’s the first time I have ever done so.” – This is good. This deal will keep me alive and safe.

Jade shakes the hand you have offered up to him. However, before you can end the contact, he yanks you towards him. A groan of pain bleeds from you as you are pulled chest to chest with him. Chin pinched skyward by his other hand, you look into two halos, one gold and the other umber.  

Right away, you clock it as an intimidation tactic, so you do not let yourself appear frightened. Compared to those overblots you faced … 

“However, it would not be fair if I did not receive something everlasting as well. Not just temporary satisfaction.”

Subtle eyes dart around the botanical gardens, trying to find Ace, but halos are all you see. “Okay, what do you want on your end?”

“It is quite common for you to find yourself caught up in the misfortune of a poorly made potion. I want to be there – to watch you struggle and to watch you be powerless. That is all you need to give me.”

“I … I can do that.”

“Then, it’s a deal.”

When you met Jade officially in the cafeteria, you picked up his subtle habit of bringing his hooked index finger up to his mouth before he could smile too wide. When meeting with Azul in the VIP Room, he was very subdued and subservient unlike his twin, listening instead of laughing and nodding along instead of nagging vexed. Now when making a deal with the vice-housewarden, you find yourself peering through a tear in the fabric that envelops him day to day.

For the first time ever, you get to see Jade smile with all his teeth. They curl down and up, reminding you almost of cat claws, with an acute sharpness in each individual tooth. They ensnare you.

II. Your basilisk's egg was not incubated at the correct temperature of 2300 degrees fahrenheit.

Your basilisk’s egg is colder than the collective’s by many, many degrees. Honestly, you blame this one on Professor Crewel for not putting the much needed comma between the two and the three; it was completely natural of you to assume 230 degrees fahrenheit was correct when 2,300 is an outrageous temperature. Regular incubators in your world could not even reach that level of heat!

When you cracked the unfertilized eggs of a serpent king into the cauldron, you sheepishly noticed how much lighter the shade of red yours is compared to others. Almost the pink of a flamingo’s feathers, not red like cranberries, not red like everyone else’s. 

Already too late though; the pink-hued yolk has already sludged into the cauldron. Gravity, such a conniving bastard. You can only watch helplessly as impact is made; the eggshell in your hand is now empty. 

Then, all the liquid in your cauldron rises up like a geyser. 

“Woah!” 

“Holy shit!”

“(Name)!”

Ducking behind your hands, you yell back at Ace, “I didn’t!” That is all you get out before the potion shower lands all over you. You spit out what got into your mouth, “mean to … bleh!”

Magenta sludge drips off your uniform in thick plopping sounds. It is the consistency of a milkshake and you shiver when you realize some has definitely gone down the back of your shirt. 

“Why are both of you clean,” you whine, disassembling the poorly made umbrella your hands made. They drop away from your temple, coated in magenta. Shaking the potion off your gloves, you frown at seeing how both Ace and Grim are unaffected by the geyser that just drenched you. The clumps of potion in your hair make your frown evolve into a grimace.

Grossed out at the sight of you, Ace winches and waves around his magic pen. “Used-a protection spell. Dude, you look ridiculous, haha. Doesn’t that burn?” 

“No, it’s oddly really cold.” 

Definitely the consistency and temperature of a milkshake. You strip yourself of your gloves, carefully folding them inside out. “Ugh, this is going to take forever to wash off.” You do not even know which part of your body to start shaking off like a dog. Your one good lab-coat and your one good uniform, ruined and presumably stained.

An alert shiver zigzags up your spine, and you turn around just in time to see Professor Crewel come out of his horrified stupor. 

As he stands up from his desk, you get this overwhelming urge to run away. You have to physically focus on planting your feet down so this psoriasis itch does not cause you to turn tail and flee. It’s my fault, so I need to accept punishment. Unconvinced by your self-loathing, your body shakes in jitters, ready to rush out of the room should mental resistance let up.  

You are unaware of it, but those emotional cactus pricks of needing to run away from danger will follow you all day long today.

Once finally released from Crewel’s classroom — you had to scrub down everything from the floor, use the emergency shower to peel sludge out your hair, and are given the briefest pat of sympathy on the shoulder — you run into Ace on his way to his club meeting. Is it really that late, you think. Grim left to attend all your other classes, skimping out on the cleanup that was ‘so not his fault! see ya!’ Now you wander, weighing if you should go to Octavinelle first or Ramshackle first. Find Grim or Find Jade?

“Can I join ya,” you ask as you slot yourself next to Ace in the hallway. If Floyd is at practice, you might be able to ask him where Jade is which ends the search for one person. However, it a mute point when you realize:

“It’s kinda a coin-toss if Floyd shows up or not,” Ace responds to your question, both of you standing in the doorway of the gymnasium. Where’s Floyd was what you had asked. Diligently, you search the crowd now. With his height he should be easy to spot; you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. There is really no way you can contact Jade as you do not have his number or know his schedule.

What an asshat. You bet Jade just loves the idea of you squirming around to find him. While he can descend on you like a vulture without any forewarning with his sixth sense for entertainment, you have a harder time locating him. 

Without any warning, you suddenly sidestep away from Ace. The redhead raises an eyebrow curiously before his expression drops in shock. In the spot where you were standing, Floyd trips and hits the ground hard.

“Woah!!” You and Ace shout in unison. 

On the ground, Floyd has the same expression of shock that you two do. Though, it slowly morphs to sadness as he rubs the back of his skull. Seated on the gymnasium floor, rubbing his bruise, Floyd grumbles sullenly, “Why ya do that, Shrimpy? I just wanted to squeeze ya. Haven’t seen you all December.”

Ignoring that, you ask, “Floyd, do you know where Jade is?”

“Ya wanna see Jade?” That relights the eel’s energy. He smiles like he knows something you don’t – which is probably a lot of things, considering where you come from and where you are. “Sure, I’ll take ya. I wasn’t feelin’ basketball practice anyways.”

So, thus you end up following Floyd and Ace like a duckling. Thinking to yourself that this will have to be what happens more in the future. Find someone who knows where Jade is, glue yourself to his side after you messed up a potion, conclude a trail of test runs that borderline on torture. Yet … it is worth it to some extent. 

Vividly, you recall each instance where Jade Leech put himself between you and your faithful friend, Danger. He protected you with a variety of spells the first years have not learned yet in NRC’s curriculum. It really is a valuable deal. 

After Azul Ashengrotto’s overblot, talk between you and Jade has been sparse. It is not like the two of you are going to become friends. A mouse does not become buddy-buddy with a cat. There will never be mutualism between the two species.

Your train of thought slowly ebbs when you realize Floyd, Ace, and yourself are nearing up on Jade. Floyd seems to be crouching forward, in a way that you assumed he did earlier when trying to ambush and scare you at the gym’s entrance. This should be interesting, seeing if Floyd could succeed in getting the jump on his twin. At least it would have been if you didn’t feel like a sword sliced down your spine, spreading heat all over the planes of your body.

“Shit!” You shriek, rushing and bumping into Floyd, seconds before someone yells:

“Hey! Look out!”

In the exact spot you were standing, a framed portrait makes a crashing descent. Well, it would have been crashing if not for a lilac spell wrapping itself around the portrait. Quick and alert, Jade holds out his magic pen, levitating the talking portrait while you and Floyd gather your bearings.

“Geez, Shrimpyyy, what was that for,” Floyd groans, rubbing his arm with a sour look. “You’ve been more like a jumpin’ fish than a shrimp. All skittish and squirmy.”

“I’m sorry, I just felt – Jade, cut it out!”

It is not that Jade is doing anything particularly mischievous. However, when the spell rotates the portrait to face you instead of with its back facing all of you, a shiver that is painful and palpable burns all your pores. The portrait is of a lich, rotted gray skin with curling yellow horns and piercing red eyes.

The voice that comes from the portrait sounds like dark corners of a dangerous night. “What are you mortals looking at?”

Run away, each branch of the nervous system agrees in unison. Terrified, you push off Floyd and rush behind Jade, innately remembering he is supposed to protect you. 

“Wh-What are you doing, (Name)?” Ace asks, glancing at you in confusion. 

The Horned King seems just as skeptical towards you. Jade, raising a perfect eyebrow, looks back at your cowering form and the portrait. 

You can see all the calculations erasing, rewriting, and improving themselves in his head. His million and one hypotheses about the world around him.

“Hm, this is curious,” Jade murmurs just as the person who dropped the portrait calls out:

“My bad man. Stupid spell.” Over the railing of the stairwell, the student setting up the portraits sends you all an apologetic look. Then, noticing the nefarious grin on the vice-housewarden’s face, says quicker, “I’m so sorry about that!”

“Nonsense, I think this has caused an interesting revelation.” Slowly, Jade levitates the portrait up to the student who is very skittish to carry it on with his own spell. “Prefect, how do you feel right now?”

“I don’t know how to describe it … Like a bunch of fire ants just crawled on my skin and bit me all at once.”

“Seems you do know to articulate your thoughts.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Jade.”

He smiles as if you have just complimented him. “Did you mess up a potion beforehand?”

Your eyes squint in suspicion. “Yeah, I uncooked my basilisk egg. How did you know I messed one up though?”

“Simply an observation. I think the potion causes you to have a heightened sensitivity to danger. You knew when danger was coming and rushed away from it. Foresight?”

“I suppose, who knows,” you say, watching the portrait like a bunny in a burrow might watch a predator, waiting for it to slip away to another area. Tension ebbs from you as the other student takes it and begins his task of rearranging them. You step out of the protective shadow of Jade Leech.

“Who knows,” you repeat, intrigued. “Maybe if I mess up a potion like this again, I can call our deal off. I won’t need your help.” A smile comes up to your face, imagining yourself independent.

Jade only scowls. You wonder whatever for but —

“What did you do to mess up the potion, (Name)! Please, I need it! This would be like an alarm for whenever Riddle’s nearby! I could get away with so much!” Ace squeezes your shoulders with a bruising intensity. 

Ripping yourself from him, you stumble back. A soft ‘ow’ parts your mouth when you collide with something, spine to chest. Jade’s gloved hands come down upon your shoulders unexpectedly, pinning you in place. “Basilisk eggs are a delicacy. They aren’t hard to obtain but they are certainly pricey. However, if you are ever serious about your inquiry, Ace … Azul’s office is always open to help.”

It seems that Ace’s sense of danger is alive and well too, for he takes several steps back at Jade’s words. “Well … when you put it like that, heh. I suppose I’m alright.” His eyes shift to the hold Jade has on your shoulder, not shaken off or side-stepped.

“But you were so eager before.” Jade frowns, putting on an act. He looks awful sorry to see Ace skirter away like a crab poked by sticks at the beach. It is a mere masquerade.

“Naah, I’m good. Have fun, (Name)!”

“Ha-Have fun?!” You sputter indignant. 

But Ace has already left with Floyd in tow. Basketball practice waits for no man. Left alone in the hallway, you shudder in the delicate embrace of a dangerous predator. 

“Have fun … what an appropriate saying.” Jade leans down over you with a smile. You should have known from that smile alone it was going to be bad. And it proves to be bad! Because, of course, it has to do with mushrooms again.

Jade takes you hiking. Apparently, his club starts around the same time as Floyd, and Jade is nothing but meticulous about schedules. So, you are going to be alone in the mountains with Jade … it does not take a magical potion to know that it is a new episode of a true crime podcast waiting to happen.

You tell the three Ramshackle ghosts if you do not come back to treat Grim kindly as you zipper up the hoodie Jade said you would need. The knock on your building’s door sends a shiver down your spine that burns. Like a lightning bolt of prickling pain that makes each pore tingle with fire. You are starting to regret this contract.

“So what exactly am I going to be doing?” You ask Jade as you two make your way down a beaten trail. A heightened sense of danger seems quite trivial for a walk in the woods.

“I was rolling the traits of the potion over in my head,” Jade says, his back to you as he leads the way. “And I was thinking, what a perfect opportunity to unearth the mystery of blue pinkgills.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one has gathered up the courage to test if they are poisonous or not. Being poisoned is an obvious endangerment to a body’s health, don’t you agree?”

“You can’t be serious.” His back never turns. “Jade, no way!”

The smile in his voice is palpable as he teases, “I am only joking. After your potion wore off, the blue pinkgills you gifted me decayed instantly.”

You breathe a short-lived sigh of relief. “However, that doesn’t mean your potion can’t be utilized on this hike.”

“I’m not going to eat a single mushroom.” You vow.

“Nothing of the sort. The hypothesis I want to test out is a bit different.”

Hypothesis? This relationship via contract is akin to a type of scientist’s experiment. Before you can think about the roles of yourself and Jade, your entire body is engulfed with a terrible sense of burning like each particle suddenly was torn in two. It is an appropriate reaction when you realize an entire uprooted tree is rocketing towards you with high-speed velocity. 

“Shit!” You shriek. That is far as your body stays your own. Each atom of the muscular system is possessed by the potion. The potion puppets your body and you find yourself successfully leaping over the horizontal tree-trunk. One hand plants itself on the wood; your legs bunch up to your stomach and then you are catapulting yourself over a log. 

When you plant yourself on the opposite side, feet landing perfectly, your gaze hardens into a glare. “What the hell, Ja–!” An uprooted bush tries to ambush you. Shrieking, the potion puppets all but your fearful vocal cords.

“Now, let’s see,” Jade muses, waving his magic pen. His gold and olive eyes study you. “If I attack from both the front and the back, does it react simultaneously?”

“Jade!”

“Excellent, it does,” Jade celebrates with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

So, thus it begins. Your first real experiment with Jade and he is throwing an entire forest at you. Frantically, your body jumps and leaps out of the way of roots that try to sweep your legs and rocks that try to cut your arms. You even do a front flip to avoid a particular rock being thrown at you. You don’t know how to do flips unless on a trampoline! Nine of our ten times, you land on your butt performing them; yet, on solid ground you just completed your first front flip on land. Precise yet abusive, your body is puppeted by the potion and Jade’s ministrations. 

If you had known you were going to be attacked, you would have never chosen Jade as your protector.

Suddenly, in the hurricane of foliage and earth, all it changes track and aims away from you. Each individual part – rock, tree branch, colt of dirt, flower and mushrooms – splits. Ignoring your body, the hurricane slips behind you in a frenzy. Wind magic maneuvers your hair in the same direction of all that flying fauna. Then, a fist is in front of your face. 

Your body does not dodge. Rather, it plants itself like stone, sensing all the danger is gone.

You hear all the uprooted discord crashing behind you. Each rock lands like a meteor into the ground, tree branches nosedive down like crashed airplanes, and flowers are shredded apart like brittle paper. It is like when the hatch of a truck’s cargo bed opens on the highway, everything crashing yet the front seat is all calm. All is calm besides the paused fist inches from your nose.

Jade’s leather gloves. The ridges where leather sits to make the indents and folds of his knuckles. You are not graced much time to analyze the sight, to analyze the fist that most certainly would have broken your nose into a bloody pulp.

Deliberately, Jade straightens out. A lot of momentum had been used when rushing towards you, aiming his gloved fist like a tracking missile. Unraveling himself from his crouching position slowly, his dual-colored eyes fix you with an intrigued look. He withdraws his fist to rest by his side. “Hm.”

Now that everything is tranquil, you realize how ragged your breath is as you question back, “Hm?”

“The spell did not have you jump out of the way when I went to attack you. Perhaps it could not differentiate between all the foliage around and a person.” The same hand, that would have swirled up all your nasal tendons and bones into some crude red salad, moves to rest quizzically under his chin. 

Chest pounding, you spit out, “I don’t get it.”

A diagram blooms by the left side of Jade’s head. Despite your words not being an invitation to explain, he does deliberately like you are some foolish student. Like you are someone stupid. He is probably using some elementary magic too, two figures, one red and one blue, appearing from the simple spell. “It is quite simple,” he says slowly.

Asshat, you think.

“Since your botched potion has increased your sense of danger, I decided to test what kind of variables would get a reaction from you.” On the diagram, the red figure has wormlike lines squirming out of its head. 

“I threw a wide variety at you: clumps of dirt, mushrooms, tree branches to whole trees, even the smallest flowers you would dodge.” In the hand of the blue figure, a gold ring has surrounded his fist and crude drawings of all that Jade listed start to throw themselves at the red figure. Wildly panicked, the red figure hops and twirls around to avoid everything. “However,” Jade continues, a frown forming.

“When I added myself to the mix,” the blue figure suddenly appears in front of the red figure, posed like a superhero about to punch through an impenetrable wall, as all the crude drawings of rocks and trees clatter to the diagram’s ground, “I anticipated the usual reaction,” the red figure finds itself in comatose, “the reaction changed though. You didn’t move. In fact, you stood there almost confidently.”

By now, you finally manage to get your breathing under control. With your first solid breath, the diagram of magic starts to flicker into nothing. Crossing vexed arms, you hypothesize aloud, “Perhaps it has already worn off.”

Electricity sparks harshly on your nape; a sudden thought forms. Move your head right now, your bones and flesh say in unison. Involuntary, your neck tilts until your left cheek collides with your shoulder. A whooshing sound darts past your ear. You watch stunned as the bullet-esque rock Jade controls with magic buries itself into a nearby tree. As if it was fired from an assault rifle!

“An incorrect assumption; you are still responding so we’ll rule that thought out.”

The adrenaline that keeps you docile, almost sedated like a syringe-given drug, slowly drains from your body. Your typical attitude resurfaces and – “You –!” A skirmish between shock and anger pulls your face into a constipated look. “You could have killed me! What if that went through my head!”

“Please,” he tuts with pretend exasperation, thoroughly amused at your reaction. “I’m a capable mage who has mastered many tricks. Losing control on something as tiny as a pebble is never going to happen. Besides, I am to not harm you or risk losing my entertainment.”

Like you would believe that. Which you tell him, stomping your foot and pointing an acute nail at him, “Like I have any reason to believe a grand lie like that! I think you’d laugh over my injured body if you got the chance. You know what, Jade? Deal off! I’m not going to be used like a lab rat.”

Having said your piece, you whirl on your feet. There is a lot of debris and a fallen tree or two … no more accurately ripped and thrown tree or two you will need to climb over, but you are going back to Ramshackle. Tucked in a safe bed, letting this potion shed from your system, that is where you are going to. If only your wrist was not grabbed.

Shouldn’t I have yanked my wrist away before he could touch me, you think, glancing up from the point of contact into a pair of deplorable eyes. Who the hell does he think he is, batting you with sharpened paws as you squeak and scurry back and forth in a rodent panic. 

The cat keeps his teeth hidden as he says, “Now, let’s not be so rash. After such a strenuous exercise, the natural course of action is to stop and replenish yourself; not exert yourself more by taking a long, long walk back to the school. I’ll prepare something for us.”

You yank your wrist back. “No way – what you want me to eat those mushrooms; help you identify which one is poisonous or not? You’re sadistic.”

“I have been called worse. However, must I remind you what you stand to lose if you call off our contract?” Your feet pause in their retreat but you dare not turn around. “It would be most unfortunate if this ends so early too.” 

Part of you imagines how his face splits into a grin like those shapeshifters in old horror movies, splitting a jagged line across his features; perhaps he even tilts his head seductively to the side so the sunlight catches his enamels in a perfect way; you know from tone alone his smile must be the cat who got the cream.

Which is why when you turn around, you keep your eyes focused on his knees – trying to avoid looking at the thigh straps of his outfit. You almost feel a bit patronized when Jade says, “If anything happens to be poisonous, I had some Ipecac medicine on me.”

You try your best to not look so sad and slouched when you follow Jade.

From the impromptu clearing where trees were ripped up, or perhaps it was all planned down to last detail even this intentional clearing, Jade unloads his backpack. He sets down this small, portable grill table, unfolding the legs to stand upright. Miniature chairs for two with a pine green and sea green triangle patterns are propped upright. Exceptional care is taken when he removes his blue jacket and white hoodie, leaving himself in a black turtleneck. 

Just how strong is the guy, you wonder, watching him pull out of this out of a seemingly bottomless backpack. It is only when the hoodie is gone that you get the answer. The sharp curvatures of his biceps are visible because the turtleneck is so tight. A hormonal part of you squeaks in fear like a mouse.

You busy yourself with poking the fire Jade has started in the grill’s belly-like canopy. Whatever chunks of logs were thrown at you now stir under your ministries, distracting yourself from the man of the hour. As you prod with your lone stick, Jade starts to prepare your shared meal.

“So, why do you think it happened?”

“Hm?” Jade looks up from the kebab stick in his hand.

“Why do you think I didn’t move when you went to punch me?”

“Ah,” Jade adds another mushroom to his equally odious, fungi version of Vlad Tepes’s impalment displays, “I have several running theories. Though I most strongly attribute it to confusion.”

 “I quite understand what a fist in my face means.”

Jade laughs. “I’m glad but rather I am hypothesizing that it was confusion over me, the flesh I’m in.”

“That makes no sense; I definitely react to people. I reacted to Floyd, and you and him are cut from the cloth.”

“Yes, however there were many variables in the air. As a result, the possibility that the potion saw me as an outlier is not so far-fetched. You were so focused on all the soil and rocks; thus, you ignored me.”

“But the potion reacts to impending danger or whatever is trying to harm me. And I totally see you as a danger.”

“How kind of you.”

“Ugh!” You push the logs more aggressively and fire pops in bigger bursts.

“You reacted to Floyd just fine. When the talking portrait fell, you side-stepped. However, these were all separate instances and not together.”

You consider this, face scrunching. Jade does have brilliant deductive skills; now contemplating it, it is not so far-fetched like he said. Perhaps the potion can only react to living things and similarly only react to non-living things. Yet when Jade grabbed your wrist … you start to ponder on that … but your thoughts disintegrate when Jade starts to fill the grill-plate with his mushroom kebabs. 

“I’m not eating those.” Your face keeps that scrunched up expression. 

“While not equal to red meat, mushrooms still are a good source of protein. Truly, after your little squabble with nature, I think you might find you quite enjoy these.”

“Not a chance in Hell. They don’t look appetizing at all.”

“Have you ever had them before?”

“No but —.”

“How will you know you don’t like them if you never try them?”

How annoying; Jade sounds like every adult you ever met in your life. Really, you are fixated on wearing this scrunched look like a model with the latest trends. Nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, you look down at the arrangement of your presumed next meal. “I’m just a picky eater. You don’t have a sandwich in that bag of yours?”

“Afraid not,” Jade apologizes without an apologetic expression. “I find relying on nature to remind me of home; a hunt is a hunt no matter whether below or above.”

“So you must have some berries on you or something,” you deduct, trying to find yourself an out.

“Afraid not.” Again, this is said very unapologetically. “Though you are most welcome to wrangle yourself a worm out of the ground. Maybe that potion will help you locate a squirrel that you can overpower.”

“You’re lucky you don’t have this potion on you, or else you could sense my foot’s about to hit your crotch.”

“So violent,” Jade smiles behind the fist which curls up to his mouth, “Please, I implore you: try.” Now he is just teasing you instead of being malicious. 

You punch the side of his thigh then go back to observing. There is a decent char on each mushroom now that is more a golden brown than a deep caramel brown. 

“You know, if you brine and deep-fry gray oyster mushrooms, they take on the texture of fried chicken. The taste is similar enough when a simple illusion spell can get the pickiest eater to try them.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Your spine pricks with that familiar, forbidding sense.

“Oh no, you misunderstand.”

Jade says before he starts leaning in to regale you with a story of how he managed to trick Azul their freshmen year to eat mushrooms for five months straight. Azul’s comfort food almost ruined evermore. It is odd to see such a mélange of fondness and sadism on a person’s face but Jade wears it well.

Eventually, you are graced with other food: grapes that Jade has in his backpack. Apparently there are some ducks a little ways down the hiking trail that Jade feeds. They aren’t the type to hibernate or fly south for the winter, the Twisted Wonderland version of mallards. Excited, you implore him to show you them as it is only right after tormenting you so, paying you back for the maltreatment.

He says you need to raise your price for torment or else the entire school will abuse you, but he takes you to the ducks all the same. 

III. The measurement for Eastern bat’s blood was off by 1.5 ounces. 

“Usually when you hold out a hand, there is something in it to offer up,” Jade says analytically. In front of him, your right hand is outstretched.

This world really is out to get you. Not only are you fumbling along in a university that requires a knowledge of foreign, elementary knowledge and has an entrance exam people only pass with Willy-Wonka-ticket luck, but the units of measurements are completely alien to you. Incorrectly, you drained your Eastern bat for half a second too short. Blame can always be pinned on Ace just shrugging when you showed him the beaker; Jade probably will tut and tell you to uphold responsibility. 

So, facing him now empty-handed, you say sullenly, “I messed up a potion.” You try your best to ignore the absolute glee that overtake Jade’s features. “You … The effects when … Well, just take off your glove, touch my hand, and you’ll see.” 

Today is going to suck majorly. Part of you cannot comprehend what odious, monstrous things Jade Leech will do with. Your foresight with him really needs improving; Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden is an enigmatic mystery to you. When flesh mets flesh, the touch of it stings you like a jellyfish. 

His hand is nicely manicured you observe. Just an appropriate enough free edge of the nail to be unamusing yet secretively sharp if need be. His nails won’t cut you up into ribbons without speed and force. It is also a cold hand that feels like resting your cheek on silk when feverish.

Must be because he is cold-blooded and winter is still being stubborn. Taking a deep breath, you look at Jade who is looking intently at you with intrigue. “Was this just an excuse to hold my hand? How quaint, Prefect,” Jade teases when nothing extraordinary eye-catching happens.

Shouldn’t he know to observe the subtleties? You decide to embarrass yourself further by answering, “Just be patient and observe.” Then, hands still stacked upon one another, you turn a bit towards the open hallway you had stopped Jade in.

As the nominated test subject, you had drank the potion when Crewel instructed you to in potionology. Nothing happened and you were given an F. Then, humiliated in front of the class, you realized later that the potion’s intended effects were skewed slightly.

It had taken a lot of trial and error to realize the effects of the potion when first infected. Upset at Ace for not thoroughly reading the measurements, you had taken him by the shoulders and shaked him. In retaliation, he took your cheeks and squished them together to cut off your bemoans. You pinched his cheek in retaliation and then Grim suddenly caterwauled that you two had … disappeared?

Like you said, it took a lot of trial and error. You experimented with Grim, Deuce, and Ace outside the hallway in the main yard. Seeing if it worked skin to fur, seeing if the effects lasted after a quick high five, and figuring out it took a constant touch between two to work but did not work on a third touch.

Now, you have to explain to Jade that both of you are under an invisibility potion that is skewed. So you demonstrate by reaching out and slapping the nearest student across the face. It takes you a while to sum up the courage, the crowd swimming past you. Jade almost grows impatient and tries to retract his hand. Yet at the moment, you remember Schönheit’s face. It feels so satisfactory after being pushed around all the fucking time (especially during VDC) to watch the Pomefiore student stumble in shock. Your hand stings pleasantly.

Jade flinches in surprise and you quickly squeeze his hand tight. Having the contact break after striking a random student is not ideal. 

Background Pomefiore student – you decide his name is C – holds his flushing cheek and whirls around, head on a swivel. He finds no culprit. “Hey! … did you just – Um … Who did,” C’s hair shakes back and forth with his frenzied head turn, “Someone … Someone just hit my beautiful face!”

Behind you, watching C with you, Jade starts to chuckle. The knuckle of his left hand comes up to his lips as he fruitlessly tries to cork laughter. Then, inhibition escaping him, he is suddenly laughing like an amused teen instead of some super villain. His shoulders bounce in time with his mirth.

“I see,” he says a bit breathlessly after his laughing fit. “We are under a potion of invisibility.” His eyes track the Pomefiore student. “A potent one too if that student was not able to even sense us.”

C has already left so you release Jade’s hand slightly, still keeping them sandwiched on one another. “Exactly. Unfortunately, it only works with skin to skin contact. We were supposed to brew something that turned a person invisible but this one requires a second body.” 

For a moment, Jade’s eyes burn with a dangerous intrigue. Dread fills you like a river. Part of you surmises that you will not be able to predict what malicious actions he will have the two of you perform to terrorize the entire school. As if wanting to pry your ribcage open, Jade repeats your explanation to make sure he has all the available information, “So no one can see us or hear us as long as we touch?”

You shrink away at the dangerous lilt in his voice, so Jade takes to interlocking your fingers together. “Yeah, that’s the basics of this potion.” You look at your interlocked fingers as if they are a threading nest of rattlesnakes instead of fingers embracing.

“How quaint. Typically invisibility potions and spells are traceable through the wisps of magic they leave behind. Perhaps that side-effect is neutralized because you are magicless.”

“Maybe … I don’t really know.”

“Hm,” Jade studies your desolate look. “Let us be on our way then.”

“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Where are we even going?”

“To my dormitory. I need to retrieve some supplies before we utilize this potion’s potential.”

“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Why can’t we just interlock elbows!”

Finally, that seems to reel Jade out of his steadyfast mission to bring you to some second location. Gold and umber eyes glance down to your intertwined fingers. The bridge of repeating Zs which the heat from you and him met together. His hold is not so outrageously tight where you have no choice to stay.

“It would be most unfortunate if you were to slip and lose your grip. With a tighter hold like this,” he readjusts your contact to passive hand holding, your fingers unlocking from one another, “I’m assured that we will not break contact.”

“I guess that makes sense.” You … mourn? that you no longer get to hold his fingers equally in yours. But you asked for interlocking elbows. You grimace. “... Hey! Why do you say that like I’d trip! You could trip too.”

“With all the trouble you stumble into, it would be imprudent of me to not prepare for you falling in the literal sense. Do not worry though; I will be there to catch you.”

“Who says I want you to catch me? Hell, I think you’d catch me, only to fake out, and then drop me a second later.”

“Fufufu, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Ugh, don’t smile like that.”

So, doubly regretful and relieved that your hand-holding formation got a new look, you allow yourself to be dragged off to Octavinelle. This you could probably achieve without hand-holding but you like the secrecy. Plus, you got to flip off Riddle Rosehearts and Leona Kingscholar without repercussions. Eventually, Jade steers you towards the bedrooms located in Octavinelle. Wholly relying on him, you give him a withered olive branch of trust to not torment or abuse you too much. 

“Do you share a room with someone,” you ask as Jade lets go of your hand. The door to his dorm is closed currently, so secrecy lives on. Your eyes are glued to the opposite side that Jade did not walk towards. 

“My brother and I signed up for a double dormitory in middle school.”

“Makes sense,” you say. Sheets scrunched up, shoes and crumbs peppered all over the place, and a horrible sense of cleanliness? You doubt Jade would put up with this from another else but his brother. 

Attention drifting, you turn and watch Jade shift through a thick binder on his desk. He takes it from this apparatus of gold that sits on his neat desk. Teal with golden edges, it is one of three heavy binders. Seriously, the thing is at least a good eight inches thick with papers. “What’s that?”

The smile on Jade’s face tells you that is either going to regale or inform you about something sinister. Each sharp, serrated edge gleams like secrets spoken under candlelight. Though gloveless, his hand still perches under his chin. That tunnel of fangs opens. “Simply some information I have had to collect for Azul. It dates all the way back from our first year, down to Orientation Day. Would you like to see?”

Curiosity kills the cat; too bad you are more like the lab rat. Your eyes drawn down to the now open binder thoroughly intrigued. “Wouldn’t Azul be pissy at you for showing someone such valuable information?”

“Perhaps. But, I thought you disliked each housewarden with a vengeance.” Seeing you are still unconvinced, Jade assuages your worry, “All this information I have collected painstakingly by myself. It is under my jurisdiction who I choose to share it with.”

“And that just happens to be me,” you ask, anticipating some catch. Still, you shuffle over to the desk quite eagerly. “What do you get out of showing me this?”

“Just the pleasure of seeing you squirm.” 

“Ha. Ha.” You laugh dryly. Electing to ignore that little comment, you turn your attention towards the binder’s pages. 

Painstakingly proves to be an appropriate way to describe how detailed the pages are. Reports upon reports of different students stare at you, even with photographic identity in the top corners. It looks more like a report on prisoners than something a student has made. As you flip through, you do spy dates from last year. The margin of notes detail a number of things: past deals made with Azul Ashengrotto, a list of allergies, schedules of classes for each individual student, and a few have their Unique Magics column filled (which you have been told most mages keep those specific spells very private). Some students even have a column labeled Weaknesses on them. 

“God, this is,” you say awestruck. You flip through some more. In alphabetical order, Bucchi, Clover, and Diamond are the ones you recognize first. You wonder if at the beginning there is a section detailing Al-Asim too. The absolute punctiliousness of Jade has some students taking up ten to fifteen pages. “This is –”

“Terrifying?” Jade incorrectly supplies the word.

Attention finally broken from the binder, you look up at Jade who is leaning into you slightly. There is an unreadable iota of something in his eyes. Was he hoping to scare you away? “No, not at all.”

“You’re not off put?”  

“I’m more impressed by it. I mean, I know how Night Raven College is now. Trust me; been pushed around since day one by students and the classes. This … This is what you have to do to survive here.” You overlooked the page you are on, some random Ignihyde student with a D surname. “I don't, however, think sunlight is an allergy.”

“Trust me,” Jade takes your hand, “for students of that dorm, you would be convinced otherwise.”

“So, what are you going to do with this?”

“We are going to be adding to it.”

So, that is how you and Jade spend your day. Trekking through the hallways of Night Raven College and sometimes even walking unnoticed through certain dorms, you both collect information on students. Filling in the blanks in Jade’s sheets and dating new, unexpected information that you happen to stumble upon. 

It is fairly entertaining. Yours and Jade’s preferences towards entertainment are obviously different, but … this is fun. Jade keeps it fun. Initially, you thought intel gathering would be dull and tedious like bird watching, bidding time for a certain student to let something slip. Somehow, you find yourself stifling chuckles that no one could have heard anyways.

This impromptu espionage is much better than how you would have originally spent your afternoon. Leaning into Jade (just to make certain you stay physically touching) you joke about all the embarrassing scenes you two stumble upon. Night Raven College students really are magnets for trouble. You are pleasantly shocked when Jade, smiling with all his predator teeth, suggests you go up to a student and give them a wet-willy. 

You never knew Jade could be this fun to hang out with!

You understand that Twisted Wonderland is an eat or be eaten world. And, as Floyd calls you, you are a shrimp. A shrimp with a drizzle of cajun sauce and seasoned with red pepper flakes to be the most appetizing for: picking on, abusing, and just overall suffering from overblots, potions, and plain old magic. It feels nice to regain a bit of power. To see that even mages have weaknesses is a nice balm to your endless ache. To laugh at their misfortune for once.

For the first time in a while, you do not feel that weight of being a failure. That everlasting pressure of having the lowest marks lightens. With an eel at your side, you find yourself a bit elevated on the food chain with certain privileges. 

Hand in hand with Jade, you two find yourself walking down a corridor. You have taken to holding a few of your own notes in your non-dominant hand. In front of Jade, his binder is hoisted by a levitation spell as his pen works on writing the information he finds useful. 

The binder is under an invisibility spell; so are your notes. However, this kind of magic leaves a trace of smell that high-ranking mages and beastmen are privy to. Magicless as you are, you do not notice a shift of fragrance in the air but you take Jade’s words at their face value. 

His levitating pen has been consistently moving across pages. Even when Jade turns to you, smiling widely and joking about today’s events, his pen keeps moving like a restless shark. So, you are wholeheartedly caught off guard for Jade to suddenly halt in his steps. The pen dots its punctuation then hovers still as death in the air. “Jade?”

“Shush,” Jade snips. You almost have half the mind to remind him that no one can hear you under the botched potion. Instead, you turn your attention towards what has stolen the smile off Jade’s face and grabbed his attention so thoroughly. 

An Octavinelle student happens to be walking out of a classroom. He has blonde hair swept messily like a tumbleweed and that recognizable armband on his biceps. No one you recognize though. Someone Jade must know, given how intensely he is staring. Before you know it, the binder has been magically closed.

“(Name).” You turn when he calls your name. “May I suggest a little detour? Won’t take longer than a minute.”

“Uh yeah,” you nod dumbly. “Sure.”

So, where the Octavinelle student exits, you and Jade enter. No one notices you entering as is the new normal. It seems to be an after school project group. A few students have pushed two laboratory tables together and are in the middle of writing notes. Jade makes a bee-line for the table which worries you – having been content with hiding in backgrounds and shadows with him.

On the table, there is a coffee thermos right where the only empty seat is. None of the mages are alert enough to notice Jade unscrewing the thermos’s top. You are acutely aware of each move Jade makes though. Paralyzed, you observe like a student watching their scientist experiment combusting. It feels very similar to watching a burning train-wreck, enough to make your jaw drop. 

In the pocket of your stunned silence, Jade delicately tucks the black strand of hair behind his ear. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down thrice; a deep phlegmy sound vibrates out his throat. When Jade (out of all the students in Night Raven College!!) hacks up an impressively huge, light yellow spitwad which falls out of his puckered lips into the awaiting cup of coffee. 

When he straightens up to you, black hair split behind his ear and framing his cheek, he smiles with the satisfaction of a job well done. “That is all I needed to do. We may carry on; I believe jurisdiction of our next rendezvous falls upon you.”

You get to pick the next student you two humiliate or gather notes on … you know this, it computes in your brain, but … you gape at Jade with a wide mouth, “Who are you and what the fuck have you done with Jade?”

Because gathering information on students and maliciously keeping them in a binder? You can imagine Jade doing such a thing. Taking the opportunities that this botched potion has given him and causing a bit of mischief with you? Well, that is what you are doing right now so it is very easy to imagine. Jade spitting into a student’s drink as a form of revenge or entertainment? Even after seeing it with your own eyes, you cannot fully believe it.

“I assure you, I have not undergone any body-swapping potion at this time.”

“I just – Dude. Dude,” you huff out a laugh. “That was –” Then, suddenly, you are laughing uncontrollably. It is really an advantage that this potion makes you invisible to the ears too. “Hahahaha!! Oh my – hahaha!!” 

It surprises you a second time when Jade joins in. “Fufufu … heh … Hahahaha!”

In the afterglow of shared laughter, you and Jade look at each other. His eyes are sharp like his teeth. There is a sensation in the air; you can only akin it to walking on a balancing beam and being brave enough to walk across the soft foam for the first time. Like you are trying something new, here with him.

“I just can’t believe you would do that. You of all people.” Your eyes linger hard on the thermos.

“I do admit it is a bit juvenile of me. Typically, Floyd spits in drinks while I add a certain fungal toxin. This was a bit more personal.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.” Yet, you have a smile glued to your face. As does Jade. The hand holding does not help with your growing fluster.

Yet before Jade can respond, the door to the classroom is thrown open. The Octavinelle student comes stomping in with a vengeance. Irritation on his face and phone in his hand, he howls, “Fuck Azul Ashengrotto!” You happen to share this sentiment wholeheartedly. “I swear, I cannot even piss without him needing to know! Why did I get saddled with the worst housewarden!”

One of Azul’s contractees, you think just as a student from the table pipes up, “What does he need from you this time?”

“Ugh,” the Octavinelle student groans. He sits down in the empty stoll with a thud; his arm comes up to rest on the table but he does not grab the thermos. “‘Parrantely, our vice called out for his night shift. So, Azul has to schedule three guys just to replace one.”

The Octavinelle student takes a big sip of his coffee. You watch the smile grow on Jade’s face, teeth gleaming. As he sets down the thermos, he continues complaining, “It’s so unfair. I have to drop everything I’m doing just at the drop of a hat for this bitching guy, or else ‘there will be repercussions for breaking contract terms’. What bullshit.”

“Didn’t you break your terms last week,” a Heartslabyul student questions.

“Yeah, when you skipped your shift to go Foothill Town for the weekend,” another Octavinelle student, different from the blonde, pipes in.

“Yeah, I was supposed to taste-test some potion for our vice. Told them I had a family birthday to go to; he won’t find out.” 

“I already found out,” Jade leans in and whispers, his breath warm on your neck. He gives a discreet little point towards the thermos. You stifle a chuckle behind your papers. As Jade pulls away, he looks awfully pleased.

“I mean,” the blonde Octavinelle student continues, “the guy’s a total creep! Who knows what would have happened if I drank that potion; would’ve seen me walking around with a third arm or gills. My housewarden and vice are two peas in a pod: complete and utter monsters.”

Laughter blooms up from the table in agreement. Features wilting, you cannot find yourself agreeing with the student’s sentiment. Sure, you can see that description fitting Ashengrotto for how utterly horrendous and repulsive he was during his overblot. But Jade? Well, he is not innocent-incarnate but a monster is a bit much.

If Jade overblotted, would I share that sentiment? No, I don’t think so. You do not get to entertain that thought further as the Octavinelle student, who is not blonde, pipes up in agreement, “At least Azul has some humanity about him … Jade?” The student fakes a shiver. “Wouldn’t be caught dead alone with him.”

Eagerly finishing off his second sip, the blonde Octavinelle student jumps to add his input, “Have you seen how he looks smiling – it’s like a rabid animal trying to appear less rabid. If you’re going to undergo a transformation potion, at least have it do the job.”

“He’s only got himself to blame for having zero friends, looking like that.”

The hand in yours suddenly squeezes at those words. Concerned, your gaze flickers up to Jade. For a foolish second, you really are expecting his face to pull into that familiar grin of shark daggers. Prideful that his reputation is kept so neatly and undamaged. 

A scowl is not what you are expecting to see. His nose and upper lip twitch like he is pushing whatever is bubbling to the surface of him back down. Just as quickly as the twitch happens, it goes. A firm lid now placed over Jade’s expression, he turns demure to you and politely says, “Shall we take our leave?”

You can only nod along, confused over the whole ordeal. 

You and Jade have this thing going on – no, it is not the potion contract; it is actually something that happens specifically outside of contractual hours. You both have started to smile at one another when spying the other walking down the hallway. To be honest, Jade smiles, you mostly stick your tongue out at him or throw him a peace sign depending on your mood. 

The thing is Jade’s grin has always been big, revealing all his predatory teeth and causing wrinkles to form under his eyes. The next time around, passing by one another near the gymnasium, Jade smiles. He smiles tight-lipped, some subdued version of himself. 

IV. No mistakes were in the mixture, but it had been splashed on you all the same.

“Grim!” You caterwaul as two bottles of salamander eyes fall into your cauldron. 

Ace has been teasing Grim for the better half of this assignment. Something about your low stash of food or something else because really, anything about you two is fuel for teasing. The verbal sparring mattered little to you as you were managing to get this potion right for once! At least, it mattered little until Grim decided to hop over the desk attached to your cauldron. 

Down, those two bottles drop into the cauldron with an expressive ploop!; liquid hits you in the backsplash. All you can think about at that moment is what you are going to owe Professor Crewel. You refuse to be scavenging the mountains for salamanders to pluck the eyes out of. 

Furious and with canary yellow droplets rolling down your face, you reach across the top of the cauldron. Your fingers hook into Grim’s collar, pulling him towards you as the fireball he was going to strike Ace with evaporates on his tongue.

“Myah!”

“You little –”

“What’s your problem, Henchman!”

“My problem is that you just messed up the first potion we’ve ever done correctly in this class! How could you be so careless! Do you have any idea what it took to pull my weight and make that without a mistake!”

When Grim refutes that Ace called his legs stubby, you swear you could almost combust into flames like the King of the Underworld. It would be a fitting reaction. Yet, all you can do is shout, “Your legs are stubby! You’re short! God, your height being teased should not cause you ruin a perfectly made potion. We are a team; this comes out of your grade too you know! Seriously Grim, I can’t –” And then, you cannot even shout anymore in reaction. 

I can’t breathe, you realize with wide-eyed panic just before your legs give out beneath you. “Henchman!” You manage to safely deposit Grim on the ground in midst of your rough fall. However, it does not curb your impending face-plant away. 

Why can’t I breathe, you think. You try desperately to will yourself to breathe automatically through your nose or mouth, eagerly willing to take up the torch for your stressed brain. Nothing. Instinctively, your hand flies up to your throat. Under your fingertips, serrations that open in twelve inch wide cuts brush against your hand. You feel rubbery bristles and sleek skin not wet from blood. 

Huh? You do not get to ask about it as a spell suddenly lifts you off the ground. Second later, you are dumped inside an empty cauldron Deuce has summoned in the midst of discord and you are dampened by the raincloud Professor Crewel has summoned over your head. 

Fresh air, you think while breathing in water. You are knocked out momentary reprise, your new found respect for life after being able to breathe again, when voices suddenly start shouting. 

“(Name), are you okay!”

Over your right shoulder, your vision is swallowed by Deuce’s frantic expression. Half of his goggles are pulled up to his forehead but the left side still suctions to his skin, extending up his eyebrow unnaturally. Quizzically frantic, his eyes race over your body. 

“I’m fine now, I think –”

“Bad dogs!” You do not finish the sentence. Professor Crewel uses some sort of spell and you watch vindictive as Ace’s and Grim’s heads are pulled together by harsh magnetism. They fall to a heap like knocked over bowling pins. “This is a laboratory! Not a playground! To be standing on desks like that is completely unacceptable!”

“Grim was the one jumping around; he ended up knocking over everything!” Ace jabs a finger in the direction of the dizzy dire-beast. 

“He called me stubby! No one insults the Great Grim and gets away with it!” Grim aims a tiny, blue flame in the direction of the Heartslabyul student. A tiny one is only a forewarning of more to follow. 

“Enough the both of you! Your absolute foolishness lead to —

“Ow,” you cry, pained. You had only meant to join in on scolding Grim, not interrupt in such a piercing fashion. Wincing, your dominant hand flies up to your mouth. Strings of metallic red connect your finger to your lip, and you wonder what you are going to do now as the rain washes away the red. 

Because that potion you were brewing correctly … “You dogs and your insolence led to one of your classmates becoming a merfolk.” … was a mermaid transportation potion. 

Now that panic has dwindled away, you suppose it makes sense your momentary lapse of breath. The rain cloud slowly dissipates over your head. With the water in the cauldron reaching the top, there is no more reason to keep it raining indoors. You take the opportunity to survey the damage of another disastrous potion accident. 

The complexion of your tail is a mixture of olive gray with yellow undertones. Truly, you are not sure how to describe the texture of the canvas besides resembling a stingray or perhaps a shark. Your tail breaks off into the shape of an uneven boomerang. Against the rough cauldron’s innards, you definitely feel a dorsal fin scraping on the cast iron.

The crowns of your teeth have elongated into sharp points which is why you keep your jaw hanging open. You are not going to risk biting off your tongue, unaware that magic could repair it. 

“Henchman, you have teeth just like me!”

Oh, you love Grim dearly like an annoying little brother, but you yearn for nothing more than to bite him hard. Painful enough where he learns his lesson. Your lips pull up into a smile when Professor Crewel hits him on the head. Then, you drop your open maw into a crude caricature of a frown when Crewel turns around. You don’t want him to misread your smile; you promise you are not finding this situation funny.

Because, to you, this is the worst. Your legs – your tail – no, your legs feel disgusting. So conditioned to have two separate legs, the innard combination of muscles and bones melting together causes a shiver up your back. Absent of piggy-toes to wiggle, lower limb bones suddenly hollowed out of you, fat and epidermis shifted into something supernatural. Get me out of this body! 

Your pyramiding nausea must be shown on your expression; Professor Crewel gives you a sympathetic look for someone you thought so apathetic. He surveys you before saying, “It will take until after school for me to have the reversal potion brewed. Even then, I cannot keep you in the laboratory.

“Usually, I would pin the responsibility on you two mutts,” he sends a glare at Grim and Ace, “but then I would risk endangering the Prefect further. Perfect.” You grow more very nauseous because you know where this is going. “I think it would be ideal if you stay in Octavinelle for the time being.”

You must be an edible species of mermaid right? Maybe, with enough begging, you could convince Deuce or Grim to set a fire underneath the impromptu aquarium tank you sit in.  “Ashengrotto can escort you. My 2C class is next period.”

You can’t even drown yourself; a whimper breaks your lips. In a kiss that is more a punch, your forehead and the side of the cauldron met like two angry lovers. “Just cook and eat me,” you moan sullenly.

“Yay, sushi!”

“Grim!!” Deuce shouts, mortified. 

When Azul does come in next period, five minutes before the bell like the attentive student he is, you glare at him over the side of your cauldron. It takes all but seconds before his stunned expression to melt into that sinister, scheming smirk. He really is such a snake even after his overblot. You would normally say this little favor is going to cost you an arm and a leg, but you already lost two legs. No way are you parting with an arm. 

“My, it seems you have gotten yourself into an unfortunately tight spot, Prefect. I’ll be happy to write up a contract that alleviates you from this certain predicament.”

Now, it takes luck and hard coordination, but you manage to splash Azul just as he finishes his sentence. It feels like stretching out a knot in your leg when you use your tail to propel water out of your cauldron. 

As Azul simmers in shock, you snicker in satisfaction. Serves him right. 

Soon enough, you are brought to Octavinelle. Hypothetically, it would take Azul two days to finish a reversal potion, which is better than most students who would need five days. But since Professor Crewel is working to ‘alleviate you from this certain predicament’, there is no need for a contract. Thus, the housewarden carries your cauldron through the school with magic.

There are so many questions running through your head that you and Azul remain silent during the trip to the Hall of Mirrors. Are you going to get dumped outside in Octavinelle’s waters to fend for yourself, or are you going to be thrown into the pool left to starve? What can you even eat in this form? It is already so hard to talk with the fangs in your mouth. Blood stains your lips like lipstick. You are deathly afraid of biting off your own tongue.

This is the worst potion accident I’ve ever had, you sulk, chin on the edge of stone. You want an easy life like everyone else but destiny has deemed you a magnetic force for chaos. Like there is something sweet in your blood or on your skin that attracts misfortune to you.

No one else in your first year class had experienced either a multitude of potion mishaps or a multitude of overblotted students. There has to be something in you that causes misfortune to suction to you with eagerness.

It is only when Azul speaks, carrying you through the Hall of Mirrors, do you stop your petite mopeness session. “Now, Octavinelle’s pool is never emptied so it will take some time to arrange it to be closed for the day. As a housewarden, it won’t take more than an hour. In the meantime, you are going to have to swim outside the dorm.”

“You can’t just keep me in the cauldron? I figured you shove me in some broom closet.”

“Now, do you really think I'm so cruel?”

“I do.” 

A scowl moves Azul’s lips. As he carts your cauldron through the mirror, violet sparks shimmering on the bottom like bugs drawn to a bowl of overripe fruit, he smiles cruelly, “Well, I’m glad to prove your expectations right.” Then, without any care, he vindictively dumps you out of the cauldron and into the mirror’s tensile surface.

“Asshat!” You manage to shout breathlessly before you find yourself on the other side of Octavinelle’s mirror.  

The pressure of water is unfortunately reliving to the pressure of suffocation on your chest. In the cauldron, you felt mildly asthmatic. It is certainly easier to breathe now. Which you do, you take a deep breath and then into nebulous waters, you shout out your frustrations. “ugh … UUUGH! AAAAAGH!!” Left alone in the blue, you sink down and down like a stone with each of your thoughts.

Hollowed out the bones in your lower limbs and trapped in skin made of dermal denticles, you eventually force yourself to learn to walk. 

It takes a great deal of try and fail, rinsing and repeating the process. Stubbornly, you refuse to just lie at the bottom of Octavinelle’s water to die and join a whale’s skeleton … or just wait until Azul comes to retrieve you, fake sympathy on his tongue … the mere notion of the latter causes your teeth to grind.

Thankfully, the waters are empty of any merfolk. A dagger named Embarrassment would have punctured your heart if otherwise. Having your multiple face-plants into sand and multiple collisions with reefs being seen by a single spectator makes you grimace. Eventually, you learn to use the yellowish-gray tail with the dexterity found in a squirmy newborn. 

An average person would have taken longer than an hour to learn the motions. You take to it like a duck to water. Impressively, it takes you only twenty-five minutes. Of course, you are arrogant of this fact. Limbs bruised from the rocks you have crashed into and mouth salted with the sand you accidentally swallowed, you sulk. Terribly miserable at the bottom of the sea, thinking yourself the biggest fool in Twisted Wonderland, you sulk at your falsely perceived failures but keep at it.

Moving with a tail mimics the sensation of sprinting. It is a constant motion that you must fall into smoothly. Once you start, you cannot risk a slight falter because that will send you barreling back to the ground. You must be confident about your motions. 

Tail oscillating back and forth, you push yourself off the seafloor for hopefully your last time. You wade gently off the seafloor like a bumpy airplane hopping off the runway. And then finally something happens in your abdomen and in your legs. Finally! Finally, you manage to find your rhythm. 

As if pulled there by an invisible thread, you find yourself swimming over to Octavinelle. Unconfident about your agility, you keep to the eastern side of the dorm, away from the towering spirals that look like a homunculus birth between a crab hand and an octopus, and you keep yourself away from the main building, wary of what could happen if you interact with other students. 

You wrap yourself around stone structures shaped like pointy fish-heads. Glide up the natural pattern of stairs made of the seabed floor, testing your ability to elevate yourself. Brush your hand briefly over a certain gray stone shaped oddly like a circle head with two circular ears, reminding yourself of that mouse creature you saw in the mirror days ago. Then, you turn yourself on your spine, belly up, and propel yourself towards the tunnel in Octavinelle with experience that grows second by second. 

The ‘skies’ are filled with starfishes suctioned to the edges of purple-gray arching stone, a school of moonfish with shining silver bodies with the edges of their fins kissed by orange sunshine hues, and moon jellyfish that move hypnotically like a multiple aliens made of clouds of milky-coral intestines. How phantasmal and pretty.  

Despite being in another world full of alien creatures like beastmen, mermen, and fae, at least the ocean has not changed that much. Now, impromptu and unplanned, you are thrown into the chance of a lifetime. Despite yourself, a smile grows on your lips.

Flipping yourself belly down, you glide over the tunnel system. It is a sectional hallway of Octavinelle that goes from the main building towards the dormitories. The unique faucet about the long hallway with the overarching ceiling is that the ceiling is made of glass. 

You meant to swim over the glass structure but you stutter in your motions when you make eye contact with a certain someone walking down the hallway. Even when separated by a barrier, that mountain landscape of smiling fangs manages to send a shiver down your spine. Why is that asshat’s eyes half-lidded like that?

Regaining yourself, you swim fast inches above the tunnel and ignore Jade Leech who watches you fondly in Octavinelle’s aquarium hallway, a few school books in his hand. You come to regret it later because:

“You broke contract terms earlier,” is the first blasted thing out of Jade’s mouth when he enters Octavinelle’s pools just as Azul exits.

“How so,” you grumble. After his classes, Azul retrieved you from Octavinelle waters with all the grace of a dog owner picking up their mutt from a park after hours of neglect. He leashed you with a spell and dropped you into Octavinelle pools. Now, lying on your back, you glide aimlessly in water like an adrift pool-float.

Didn’t matter where you were though as you knew Jade would come find you. But – “Earlier, when we made eye contact through the tunnel, you swam away like a shy clownfish.” – seems you forgot how rigorous people in this specific dorm were about terms.

Mouth opening to defend yourself (more correctly, lie and say you did not know how to stop), a certain tantalizing scent catches your attention. Flipping yourself upright, you glance towards the edge of the pool when Jade stands on the steps, ankle deep with his pants rolled up and footwear off. In his hands are two steaming plates.

“Oh thank God, I’m starved,” you say, swimming over.

Yet Jade chuckles, “Food is for well-behaved fish who uphold their contract terms.”

“Oh God,” you groan. “Listen, I didn’t know how to stop.” A lie but you tack on, “And it’s not my fault I wasn’t with you. Azul dumped me into Octavinelle. He pushed me in there like a bird kicking her chick out of the nest.” 

“Still, I would have come to retrieve you had you not darted away. Did I perhaps frighten you?” 

“Jade, just tell me what you want to hear and I’ll say it. I’m starving.” You had not realized how famished your new body had grown in such a short time. Swimming is a rigorous exercise but you never thought it would hollow out your stomach so thoroughly. 

“My, what an opportunistic sentence. Anything I want you to say … just like that? Sevens, which of the hundred self-deprecating phrases could I move your tongue into?” The smile he aims at you is a perfect mimic of some villainous character reveling in the downfall of a hero.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Jade. You know that? A real thorn in my side.” 

“A leech on your ankle?”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

“Of course. Any self-respecting person should be able scrutinize and recognize who they are in the eyes of those on the outside looking in.”

“Then you must know I see you as a real asshole for not feeding me.” 

You hold up your hand to accept the plate. At the end of this verbal maze, you will be rewarded with food. Like a mouse who is eventually given cheese after all those twists and turns. However, you do not expect his next sentence:

“You’re hurt.”

Are those the words you must repeat? “I’m hurt?”

Jade shakes his head at you. You watch in surprise as he sits on the edge of the pool, leaving his ankles in the water. You have never seen him look so casual in his dorm uniform. Sure everything is tightly buttoned and hastened in place, yet there is an air of permissiveness around him. “Your arm,” Jade clears up confusion as he sets the plates down. 

When you check the appendage, Jade’s words are proven right. A mark that is sure to turn violet and black runs across your forearm. Must have happened when you were trying to learn how to swim, bumped too hard into a coral reef perhaps. 

“Oh damn, that is going to ache tomorrow.” Hissing through your fangs, “Shit.”

Jade hums in consideration. “Give it here.” He gestures to your arm.

After a moment’s hesitation, you extend your forearm so it rests in Jade’s hands. You expect him to dig his nails into the area, to test what will make you wince. However, he just carefully maneuvers it in his hold, mapping out the bruise’s perimeter with his eyes. Then, he unclips his magic pen from his breast-pocket. 

You rest your head on your shoulder, peering up at Jade with tired eyes. Violet light orchestrates a ballet across his feature, dipping and pirouetting on each sharp curve. It reminds you of how he fought in the violet drenched nightmare of Schoenheit’s overblot to keep you safe.

As the perimeter of your bruise shrinks, you realize something and have to force down a twitch.

Oh.

Oh!

Juxtaposingly, it seems so natural and it seems so artificial. You have feelings for Jade Leech?

‘Please, be serious’ you want to chastise yourself. However, it feels like something that has grown inside your heart naturally. However, it too feels like it was something born of blasphemous methods that would offend Mother Nature. Perhaps that is your own hesitation to admit to having a crush.

Bruise completely gone, lavender light falls away from his face. “There we go.” He looks up from your arm to your body. Seemingly, his eyes flirt about to assess whether there is any more mark from your old, faithful friend Danger you have inevitably fallen into. Does he think you are a failure? The thought makes you sick. You don’t want Jade to ever think that about you.

As you take back your arm from his lap, curling and twisting it experimentally, you thank him.  He responds,“It’s no trouble at all. I uphold contract terms … unlike others.” 

“Oh, climb off it.” 

When you enunciate your sharp ‘t’, Jade’s eyes are magnetized down to the rows of razor daggers in your mouth. If Jade Leech could look stunned, you think this is the closest you have ever seen him do so. A subdued version of the facial expression. 

“What,” you ask. “Something on my face?”

“No, no,” Jade smiles like it is nothing. He picks up the plates previously set aside. He balances each like a veteran waiter, showing you the beef wellington he has cooked for you two. It is paired with a brown sauce underneath the pastry. “I’m glad to see that my preparation was prudent to all the changes the potion did.”

“You aren’t going to change into your mer-form? Show me how to eat and swim correctly so I don’t injure myself?” 

“Now, I don’t want to be too honest with you.” You simply swipe your plate, because God, an honest Jade Leech is scarier than a dishonest one. 

When you head out of Ramshackle the next day, waving goodbye to the ghosts and dire-beast on your shoulder, you come to an unexpected stop on the rickety porch. “Huh, what’s that,” Grim asks as you lean down to pick up the two mysterious jars. Underneath glass, a hundred or so slimy salamander eyes peer at you. And you suddenly recall what you had bemoaned to Jade, Crewel’s going to have my head if I can’t replace his supplies.

Around the neck of each jar, a periwinkle bow has been tied with expert care. You know which dorm that color signifies. For the first in a long time, you walk the hour trek from Ramshackle to Night Raven College feeling light like a feather.

V. Lilies were selected and arrogantly substituted for asphodels.

“So, how did this come to be again,” Jade asks … just for clarification.

Even though it was Grim who grabbed the lilies, it can still be attributed as your fault. If you were in the right mind to speak, you would blame yourself. For one, you used poor judgment to trust Grim would be able to handle selecting ingredients. Secondly, when handed the lilies, you did not check if they were the shape of asphodels. In your vocal absence, Grim clarifies to Jade, “My Henchman messed up the potion!”

“You little weasel!” Adding injury to his insult, Ace whacks the back of Grim’s head. 

“Ow!” Grim cries on Deuce’s shoulder. “Well, they did! Myah, it's not my fault they put it in.”

“You’re the one that picked out the wrong flower, so you’re ultimately at fault,” Deuce sighs. Turning back to Jade, the freshman laments, “Though, we’re not quite sure how one little flower could cause such a big difference. Or when it’s going to wear off.”

With the last sentence said, Deuce sends a wary glance to you. All of them know about the contractual agreement between you and Jade. Obligations stitch you two side by side until the effects of a botched potion wears off. However, he thinks this time should be the expectation. 

“I hope it never wears off,” Ace snickers, undeterred by the glare of Deuce and Jade. 

Originally, none of them knew if the potion was working wrongly, which is quite ironic. Working wrongly … ah, what an odd way to put it. But, when Professor Crewel dipped the rectangular slip of perfume-testing paper into your cauldron and it came back a neon pink instead of a dull orange, you knew you had to make the venture to find Jade Leech. 

Even if I breathed in just a sniff, I have to do this, you griped when your trio asked why you were even heading in the direction of Octavinelle. Sadly, it is an obligation. Your contract has you and Jade spending a large amount of time together.

Out of all the mishaps, this one crept on you silently. Without any forewarning and without any subtlety. One minute you were standing idle by the Mostro Lounge’s entrance and then, Deuce cringes at the memory, you were like this.

“Jade, can I have another kiss pleaseee?” 

Clinging like an eel with captured prey, your arms are wrapped tightly around Jade’s waistline. He cannot seem to pry you off. In honey-laced tones, you bat your eyelashes prettily up at Jade as you ask for your second kiss from him. Hopefully this one will be reciprocated. 

As if the entrance to Mostro Lounge was enchanted with a changeling circle, something shifted in you when you saw Jade. In the crowd of waiters and customers, you found Jade working. Your pupils dilated; your breath hitched; Cupid’s arrow pierced into the cotton-candy red of your beating heart. At the sound of a flustered breath, the trio only got a second to view your visage – a magical cocoon of lovestruck emotions wrapping around you – before you run up to Jade, calling his name in phony passion. 

The first kiss you stole, lip to lip, when you two collided in greeting. The look of disbelief on Jade’s face had Ace sputtering with laughter. 

Deuce was quick to explain everything before Jade … Well, it was difficult for Deuce to tell what Jade was even thinking, or perhaps plotting.  He cannot stomach hypothesizing upon the torment you might be subjected to because of how you are acting. Would Jade feed you poisonous mushrooms for all your non-consensual actions – non-consensual on both parts, you hardly seem right in the head. 

For your sake, Deuce hopes Jade goes easy on you. Speaking of the eel-mer.

In response to your amorous inquiry, Jade tilts his head to look down at you. His eyes are unreadable shields. Though his voice has a tint of minacious teasing in it, “Perhaps we should find another activity for you to take part in? Dishwashing perhaps?”

Grim makes a whine at the memory of dishwashing months ago. Deuce breathes a sigh of relief, dish-washing duty is a low price to pay. It seems Jade might actually be merciful to your unfortunate soul.

“I’d get down and dirty with you in some bubbles.”

Deuce’s face pinches in worry. 

“HAHAHA!” Ace full blown cackles, holding onto his stomach. “Oh, this is great!” He exclaims, sneering at both you and Jade. 

That passive mien on Jade’s face has not even dimmed once at your prevetish intents. Polite disinterest is a mask welded firm to his visage. “My, what a crude innuendo. I must inform you, Mostro Lounge is rather firm on its policy on keeping professional conduct.”

You frown at this sentiment. One could even call you distraught over it. But then something sparks in your lovestruck brain, and you lean harder into Jade like you are trying to fuse yourself to his skin. “Well, is there anything else in Mostro Lounge that is fir–umph?” Jade’s hand covers your mouth swiftly. 

You waste no time, pressing a kiss to the glove and staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.

Composure not slipping for a second, Jade turns to your friends who look on with expressions ranging from horrified to amused. Ah, Isn’t amusement most gratifying when found in the horrifying … Jade thinks so wholeheartedly. With a slight incline of his head, the vice-housewarden says, “As per our contract, I’ll take (Name) for the time being. You three are welcome to stay and enjoy our new spring menu.”

Your friends give various grumbles as Jade guides you away. Deuce even yells out a quick, stay safe, which makes sense when one is in the presence of a predator. However, your entire body is lax and void of tension. You follow after Jade, looking like you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

It is world-altering, tray slipping and dropping glassware type of world-altering, accidentally burning their hand on a hotplate type of world-altering to the staff of Mostro Lounge to see their second boss (and to some their own vice-housewarden) walk arm in arm with the Ramshackle Prefect. The rumors will infect the school for at least a whole semester. Yet despite the obvious euphoria flowing out of the Ramshackle Prefect as they cuddle up to Jade Leech, the side profile of the eel-mer is frozen in polite apathy. 

His cheeks aren’t even pink when the Prefect presses close to him. And you are attractive to have a few admirers who would enjoy having you cling to them. Courteous, Jade opens the VIP room up to you, but you drag him in, refusing to be separated from him for a moment.

When the door clicks shut – thankfully Azul happens to be either in the kitchen or on the floor – with you pulling Jade’s hand and stumbling backwards towards the couch like it is a bed and you two are on your honeymoon, Jade’s stone composure fractures. It all comes spilling from him like an ocean free from the hold of a petite water bottle.

“Fu-Fuck (Name),” his voice trembles against his unoccupied gloved hand. Jade’s skin hue rockets from pale to pink to a red that makes him seem like he is overheating. Resolve wavering, Jade allows himself to be magnetized down to the couch. 

In the sweetest voice that would put sirens to shame, you croon in his ear, “Jade; my lovely Jade; my strong Jade; mine, mine, mine.” You start to press deliberate kisses over his neck, seeing how much resistance his bowtie is going to give to your ministrations.

Jade is on his knees for you. His hands may be planted by your shoulders, but his lower body is completely off the couch. Amorously, you wrap legs around a slim waist and wrap hands around a forest of teal locks. He won’t kiss you back; he cannot find it in himself to, not when you are under a potion’s effect at least. However, he moves his head to an angle like a pleased cat to allow the kisses you litter on his neck.

“Take this off. Jade, off.” Vexful, your fingers pry at the bowtie fastened properly to his uniform. The white article is unapologetically firm against your inexperienced tugs. “Please.”

Something alive wiggles in Jade’s stomach like a spiral. Air crackles with a snap of fabric; the speed Jade rips his necktie off is intense. He undoes his silly bowtie with the eagerness of a highly anticipated Christmas present – good; because, under this potion, you are so eager too.

“(Name), you’re so …” He stops himself, not knowing whether you will remember this later.

As kisses burn his skin, Jade hopes he never scares you off. During Idia’s overblot, he had been so selective with how he fought to protect you – not wanting to mimic the ugliness you say you found in people who overblot. You, with a magic broom in hand, had asked him to abandon his post as vice-housewarden to help you find Grim; he would have abandoned his entire education for you like how the Mermaid Princess abandoned the sea all those centuries ago.

That train of thought is so dangerous though.Your friendship is so incredibly dear to him. Jade wants to take it slow. 

Human courtship works in such mysterious ways that he sometimes feels like a failure at the methods and execution on his end of things. If he were to be truthful with you, pull back the floorboards of his facade to show you the concert of lovebugs thudding in their moshpit underneath … ah, he hopes so passionately to never scare you off. 

As two of his dress-shirt buttons are undone, Jade leans his cheek against your temple. Like an efficient undertaker, he will bury himself under pleasantries to make himself appear more human and subdued. Even in dishonesty, he will love you honestly.

Your teeth are dull. His are not.

Said teeth burrow themselves into the juncture of his neck. Groaning, Jade is ashamed to feel his toes curl in his socks at the bite of such a prey. Sevens, he is stronger than this. 

With spit and teeth, you start to suckle and break the blood vessels in his skin like they are merely thin glow-sticks. He feels each thread of his self control break with them. Serrations from his clenching hands are made in the VIP couch as Jade lets you paint a hickey on his neck. 

The violet in his future bruise is sure to make a perfect matching garish for the color scheme of his dorm uniform.

You take exceptional care to hold your protector gently in your hands as you bite like a rabid animal. Like squishy dough, his skin rounds itself up and into the empty space of your mouth. It is a warm sensation that causes even his knuckles to tingle with the blooming heat.

“(Name)?” Your name falls husky out of Jade’s mouth. He did not think his vocal cords could wither to something unprofessional. “Uuh,” he moans from the sarcophagi of his throat when you chomp harder. 

“So beautiful, so gorgeous, so … so Jade.” You punctuate these sentiments with pecks that move up to his cheek. When you say the last one, you cradle the left side of his face in your hand. You press your lips to his cheek as if trying to fuse with him. 

He kills sentimentality from his voice thoroughly, but Jade has to know, “So Jade? Is that good?”

“It’s perfect.”

Jade drops you off at Ramshackle when your body slips into sleep. When he arrives at his dorm, he lands hard, supine on his mattress. Floyd glances up from his phone, not used to seeing Jade lie in bed so haphazardous without doing his whole routine. Lying in bed, the eel-mer takes his finger to press on the growing bruise on his neck – your own personal attack on him.

“I just had the best day of my life,” Jade muses. A smile wide and wicked blooms on his face as he looks at the ceiling. It only disappears when a pillow is thrown at him.

Reversed I. Jade rarely makes mistakes, but he had forgotten which came first: the live, squawking chicken begging to not be killed or the still, docile egg which could not voice the same plea, begging to not be killed.

Walking out Crewel’s class, having just aced a potion with your lab partner Ace (no pun intended), your eyes expand in surprise when you see one of Octavinelle twins stalking on the opposite wall. Grim bristles in your arm cradle and Adeuce falls silent in their conversation. Tension paints the air. Especially when said twin says:

“Ya breakin’ contract terms, Shrimpy. Can’t believe I gotta do the chase-and-catch act with ya.” His bored look morphs into a smile. “Though Shrimpy’s probably super fun to squeeze. Too bad Jade won’t let me.” His look morphs right back into boredom at his last sentence.

Whiplashed by his chameleon-ing expressions, you stand there numb. His words also make you pause because as far as you are concerned, you are not breaking any terms. The potion you just made went off without a hitch. Bsides, if it went wrong, you would be heading to Octavinelle, obedient to your terms. 

“How am I breaking the terms? I haven’t messed up a potion since …” Since that time you were acting like a spellbound lovestruck fool, “since you know.” 

You trail off. All you know about the last incident comes secondhand from your trio, having woken up in Ramshackle the day after with no recollection of the events. Stricken by only the prologue of a story you do not know, you went about classes in Night Raven College with a lingering sense of uneasiness for two weeks. You think to yourself, Jade must be livid, and start anticipating his revenge at any time. Yet, in the interlude of this horridly put together fantasy comedy that you have been thrown into, teal hair and sharp teeth never make an appearance until now. 

… And the appearance is flipped like a mirror and yawning out, “Uuuh, yeah ya did. If one of you messes up a potion, you guys gotta be with each other.”

“But I haven’t messed up –”

Grim leaps out of your arms when you are grabbed but you do not have the luck to make your own escape. 

Floyd ignores your words. ��So, ya get to come with me, lil Shrimp,” he exclaims with a happy lilt, pulling you hard by the forearm. How the hell does a guy of his stature have the strength of a bodybuilder! “Tired of Jade being all boring and not comin’ to find ya. So, I thought I helped!”

“Oh, no, Floyd, that’s not our contract terms. The terms are –” You are cut off abruptly.

“Ya callin’ me a liar, Shrimpy?”

“EEK!”

The face in front of you – that leans down and covers you in a heavy shadow – is reserved for breakers of Azul’s contracts and those who have messed up majorly in Floyd’s book. Unbeknownst to you, you are the breaker of Jade’s sensitive little heart – he has been bemoaning how he probably scared you away two weeks ago, much to Floyd’s annoyance – and that means you have majorly, in behemoth portions, messed up in Floyd's book. 

Staring into those pin-prick eyes and open mouth leer, you almost feel your bladder go slack in fear. With how nice, although a bit devious, Jade expressions have been around you, seeing this twisted version of those features makes you shudder. Don’t forget how vulnerable you are, it warns.

Luckily, there are three glorious idiots in this world that love you dearly. So, when one of them goes, “Hey, my Henchman ain’t no liar, liar!” you relax just a bit. Though Grim’s bravery quickly vanishes with a squealing EEK! when Floyd looks over your shoulder to make eye contact with him.

“Now, you’re someone I can squeeze, Sealy. Don’t get so noisy, ‘kay?” Those hostile eyes land back on you. “Don’t make me drag ya, ‘kay?”

“Hey, you can’t just talk to them like that!” Deuce defends.

“Ya tellin’ me what to do, Little Mackerel? I can talk to anyone however I want.”

“No, you can’t –”

“You can talk to me like that!”

Everyone, even you turn your own head, stares at Ace with wide-eyed expressions. “Hey! Sue me for having self preservation. I for one wouldn’t make such a stupid deal.”

Bristling, you bite back, “I literally devised a plan to save you from a deal with Azul months ago, asshat.”

“That was Azul; not one of the twins. ‘Sides, I’m sure Jade is so eager to see his little boyfriend/girlfriend again. Probably needs another kiss,” Ace teases with a shit-eating grin. 

Your eyes go small in anger, a poor rendition of Floyd’s but still powerful. For these past two weeks, Ace has been referring to you as Jade’s partner and been hinting at more below-the-belt activities. Who knows what could have happened in Octavinelle, you and him all alone for a full day, he teases for the duration of fourteen days, hands steepled in mischief. Just as you open your mouth, ready to rip Ace a new one, you are lifted off the ground like a mere household pet.

“See! Crabby gets it!” You wrestle and twist in Floyd’s tight hold. “Ya both just need to kiss it out!”

“I think the phrase is talk it out,” Deuce adds helplessly as you dragged off by a 6’1” eel, screaming:

“Ace. Ace! When I get my hands on you! ACE!” 

Thus, you are once more brought to Octavinelle against your will. Instead of being cradled by a cauldron full of water and Azul’s magic, you are held tentatively in Floyd’s arms as you wiggle and thrust in hopes to escape. He does not break your ribs or your arms luckily. You whack Floyd with all your might the entire way.

Heels dragging across linoleum, you watch the ground move under you like an escalator. Floyd is still effortlessly dragging you, much like a body-bag. Already, you have tried to bargain with Floyd on getting your tedious freedom. Offering up pieces of candy you have in your pocket, labor you could perhaps do in the Lounge; offering up one day to ransack Ramshackle of any objects he wants, labor you could perhaps do by helping him complete parkour tricks or basketball. 

His mouth twists in contemplation when you offer to let him use the rocky, uneven terrain of Ramshackle’s backyard. Offer it for what? To Floyd for free-use to test ride for his new Blastcycle. You thank your very low population of lucky stars that Jade mentioned offhandedly Floyd was planning to join one trip of the Mountain Lovers Club to test the motorcycle on new environments for tricks. 

You can deal with another deal with an eel! As long as you can avoid seeing the eel you were trying and probably failing to seduce due to a botched potion! Thinking you have Floyd hook-line-and-sinker, you completely stop struggling. 

Until he hums, “Naaaaah!” and you two are jumping through Octavinelle’s mirror in the Hall of Mirrors. If the world has decided to give all its troubles to one person, the world has picked you from the pile. A part of you hates how much this cursed, twisted world has knocked you down repeatedly.

When the bubble pops, Floyd finally lets you walk with him. Though the arm looped around your shoulder feels more like a pillory than a friendly gesture. Devil-toothed, he smiles at you and says, “Sooo you and Jade, huh?”

“Huh!” You shout indignant. 

“Hey, it’s cool. I approve so no sweat. Just unexpected ‘cus I thought this was just an experiment for Jade; then he got serious so I was thinkin’ wooow, weird, ya know?”

Confused, you just blink at Floyd’s words. This contractual agreement between you and Jade is more cat hunting the mouse then cat watching the mouse navigate a maze. It has a very hands-on experiment with you as the main test subject. But serious; why would it be more or less serious now? 

The smile drops off Floyd’s face. “No way you’re this dumb, Shrimpy. I know ya suck at potionology but c’mon.”

“I just don’t understand what you mean by serious.”

“Sevens, you two would be pinin’ till your fourth year without me.”

“Pining?” … That involves your feelings being mutual? Jade doesn’t – “EEK!”

Floyd’s eyes go back to that pin-prick size again. He even halts both of your walk towards his and Jade’s dorm. Without your trio here, you sincerely doubt how much Floyd is going to uphold his decision not to squeeze you. Instead, he just throws back his head and groans. “He owes me a month worth of pickin’ up my shifts after this.”

You have numerous questions on what Floyd is alluding to but you are suddenly pushed into a more brisk walk. Floyd’s hand steers you. “‘Kay, I’ll give ya the rundown so ya don’t act like an idiot. Jade messed up a potion. And, your guys’ contract says you have to be around each other when that happens.” Incorrect but you let him continue. 

“Jade … ya know him, Jade, my brother? Well, he’s the secretive typa-guy. Has a hard time lettin’ people get close. Mama calls him super shy. But, you, got to go hikin’ with him, see our dorm, and even eat a meal with him. Jade doesn’t do that with just anyone.”

Even though there is no botched potion ingested right now, you feel something fluttering around your stomach like a bubbling elixir at Floyd’s words. He continues, “And, right now, my oh-so-tight-lipped brother is under a truth serum potion.”

The world stops. One, because you come to the world-halting epiphany that you have been seeing a side of Jade that no one other than Floyd and Azul might be privy to view it. Two, because Floyd stops steering you in the direction of the dorm due to arriving at the very designation. The guy who keeps his real thoughts tucked behind layers upon layers of purple prose is under a truth serum; the guy who would rather shrivel up like a beached fish than reveal his heart is under a truth serum; the guy whose Unique Magic forces people to tell the truth is under a truth serum. The irony is not lost on you, and thus the world stops.

“Jade’s under a –?”

“Yeah,” Floyd laughs, tickled pink with amusement. 

In sync, you both glance at the dorm’s door like it is a monolith dropped out of the skies. Who knows what might be held inside it? Venturing in might reveal some eldritch secrets that primitive extraterrestrials hid away thousands of moons ago. 

“You can go in there, ya know. Contract says it’s fine.”

A part of you wants to finally clear up the confusion between Floyd and yours and Jade’s contract. Yet, a bigger part of you, oh that part has to see what is behind Curtain Number One more than anything else. An honest Jade Leech is like finding life on Mars. Deluding yourself, you think: Well, the contract never outlined the terms for the other party being compromised by a potion sooo … You glance at Floyd.

“I don’t understand what you get out of this.”

“Hehe, entertainment.”

That tracks well enough that you do open the door. 

Hand on the knob of the monolith, you glance into rather tenebrous darkness like looking under the bed for monsters. Behind you, Floyd flicks up the switch with his index. Light floods the room. On the bed to the right, Jade lies peacefully on his side, hugging a pillow. 

“You’re gonna need to shake him awake. Jade sleeps reeeal deep.” Slack-jawed, you turn around with indignance on your tongue. As a mouse, you refuse to be sent in to poke a slumbering cat. Yet, Floyd has already departed without another word.

“Asshat,” you mumble at the closed door. It is completely unlocked and you know you could leave anytime but … well, let's just say Jade is not the only one who likes to lift up rocks and see what squirms underneath. Besides, you have contractual terms that keep you protected. 

“Okay … okay.” You steel yourself in your resolve. Despite this, you tiptoe your way over to Jade’s bed, hyper aware of what floorboard looks like it could possibly make a creak. Floyd is not under a truth serum; he could be lying about Jade being a deep sleeper.

Jade looks quite innocent when asleep. It is probably the last adjective anyone would ever use to describe him but it is the bone deep truth. Facade and stress melted from his features, there is this alien beauty resting peacefully on pallid skin. His hair is a bit more unruly; teal wisps all still flow in the same direction but they separate more openly. It kind of looks like someone took a balloon to his head and rubbed until static engulfed it. Oh, and his nose is so cute when he has his cheek depressing down on a pillow like that.

Smile stolen, you blink once in surprise from your own thoughts, despite knowing they have become like that overtime. “Aaah forget about it,” you murmur. 

Reaching over, you gently grasp Jade’s shoulder. You have had a question on your mind for a while. Quiet as a mouse, you urge, “Jade. Jade, wake up.”

Nothing. He is sound asleep like a rock. “Jade?” However hesitant, you still try to shake him a bit more forcefully. “Wake up, Jade.” 

Ugh, this is getting you nowhere. Part of you thinks he is putting up another identity and pretending to be a deep sleeper. Jade is rarely truthful. He always speaks in rhymes and half-truths. For a simple potion to untangle his tongue so thoroughly wants you yearn to discover just a bit more about him. 

In this uneasy friendship of mouse and cat, you have found yourself enjoying discovering the hidden, earnest parts of Jade Leech. It is an unexpected development. 

Though, it stings that he only keeps you around for entertainment and abuse.

Cringing, you think you stumbled upon what will finally rouse him from his sleep. You lean down to his ear and lie, “Jade, I was wondering if you would feed me some of the new mushrooms from your hikes? Pretty please?” 

Unamused, you watch Jade’s eyelashes serenely flutter open like he is Sleeping Beauty. Asshat. Groggily, a pair of eyes stare up at you in disbelief, probably anticipating his brother or his housewarden. But, those blissful words you said seem to have him arouse as he stretches from his bed like a rising cat.

“(Name)?” He asks, sitting up in bed. “What are you doing in my room?”

A sheepish hand travels up to cover your pulse. Leaning heavy on your right foot, you lie with a chuckle, “Ah, Floyd dragged me here. Said you were sick with a fever. I’m not sure how he expects me to help though, heh.”

You know you should not … but you want to play with this. A sadistic part of you wants to watch him squirm and wiggle. Under the guise of coming over to assist him with a fever, you can only imagine Jade will try to hide the fact he is under a truth serum. 

“Ah, Floyd is mistaken. I am not sick.”

That response is unusually curt for Jade; it seems he is going to try to conceal this as long as possible. You cannot wait to stretch out his resistrant like it is a stringy ligament you are drawing and quartering until it snaps. “Oh, that’s just unusual because you are sleeping when you should be in class. Slacking off?”

“Yes, I should be in class.” Jade remains firm in his bed, giving you a polite smile. Additionally, he is firm in his resolve to not give up any information. Even under a botched potion, his self control is strong; you wonder if there is anything that could ever make him act out.

Once again ignorant, you do not know that answer is quite simply: you.

However, there is one question you have been burning and yearning to know. Coy, you ask, “Well, that’s no good. Skipping classes like that. Though, you know I was wondering …Did you put mushrooms in that beef wellington a few weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

Something in you snaps. “AH, I knew it! You asshat!” You raise a fist, throwing yourself at Jade. “That’s disgusting, Jade! A violation of friendship! Where was it!”

As Jade bats away your flying fists, he says without much resistance against the truth serum, “In the duxelles sauce.”

You punctuate each time you call him a donkey wearing a tophat with a hit to his shoulder. Stronger than you, as natural of your protector, Jade is able to evade your hits well. The ones that land he lets land. Yet, having had enough, Jade soon grabs your wrist and with a laugh says, “Fufufu, you are so utterly adorable with your instinct to hit things.”

Blank-faced, you blink at Jade. “... Adorable?” It is not a world altering sentence; you bet Jade finds the prey that skitter away from him back home in the Coral Sea pitifully adorable too. Still, the revelation is a bit of a shock to the heart.

“Well, not solely adorable. No, there is a whole library in my soul dedicated to describing you. There are moments when you are irresistible as  –” Whatever poetry Jade was going to wax, he halts it by slamming a hand over his mouth, horrified. Your eyes lock in shared terror.

“Wh-what,” you stammer, pulling away from Jade.

He grabs you by your shoulders before you get too far. With desperation, he pulls you right back to him. Then, Jade appears stricken, dueling in his head whether he should force you to stay or allow you to leave. It is like both of you have stumbled upon something horrifying and left speechless. Speechless at least until Jade grits out, “I … I think you should go.”

Having the upperhand of remembering he is under a truth serum, you ask softly, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. I ache when you leave. I wish I had the foresight to length out our contract terms, so I could see you more.” The sheets look like they could tear like paper mache under Jade’s grip. With wobbling lips, he forces a smile full of teeth onto his face. “Don’t you think this humiliation is quite enough?”

To be honest hypotheses have been forming in your head quite some time ago. However, after your last botched potion, embarrassment ate up your speculation on if Jade reciprocated what you felt growing in yourself over time. Now, variables are tipping in your favor. And he has been such a mean cat to you so …

You sit yourself on the edge of Jade’s bed; the first sadistic grin you have ever shown him blooms on your face. “Why, no, I hardly think I’ve done enough.” Leg now up on the mattress, you hook your arms around the body part and lean forward, teasing, “You’re never this honest with anyone, Jade.”

“Best to keep one’s cards close to the chest, don’t you agree? With the way you were acting last time we saw each other, it was like you fumbled the entire deck.”

Your left eye twitches. Cracks appearing in your confidence, you grit out, “Oh, did I? I actually don’t remember all that happened; perhaps you can enlighten me. How did it feel to be so … seduced?”

“I have never known such bliss … Really, (Name), this is painful for me.”

As sheets tear under Jade’s twisting fists, your confidence refuels itself. Being in control like this is exhilarating, you can see why Jade enjoys it so. His squirming is so cute! Smug, you purr, “Oooh I see~” You take in Jade’s grimace with satisfaction and ask, “So, me? Really? When did that start?”

“Since that day in the botanical gardens.”

Your smile drops. “Huh?” Slowly, the landscape of your flesh succumbs to geysering blood. Flustering heat rises and lives on each inch of your face. Because – “Ha … heh, huh?” – you started feeling something naturally after the potion incident where you were turned into a mer. To know his emotions have been kept classified, under lock-and-key for so long; it leaves you dizzy with a blush. Perhaps you aren’t fit for the role of the cat.

However, Jade misjudges your sudden silence for fear. He does not dare to reach out. “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”

“Jade?”

“The very thought that you could makes me sick.” 

You take in Jade’s cumbersome words, speechless. They soak into you like blood to a sponge. Fragile and human, your eyelashes twitch over your eyes, jittery until you half-lid your vision. A charmed chuckle escapes your lips, “oh Jade.”

His skin is so smooth. Cradling his cheek in your metaphorical claws, you smile lovestruck without the love potion. His face starts to beam a light, delicate pink. Cute and delicate and innocent … These are things that Jade is not. But under your warped vision, and through countless new experiments, you can squeeze him to fit the description. 

“I could never be afraid of you. After all you’ve done for me … How you protected me? I don’t care about the teeth; I don’t care about the biology. I don’t need deep sea knowledge to know I like you … and I hope you like me too?” 

You do not let him answer, fearful of the raw truth that could possibly be not what you want to hear, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

His answer –the solution to the hypothesis – is given in his kiss.

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:24」 — l.jihoon

» seventeen menu | woozi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ yuki-otoko!Jihoon × fem!Reader wc: 3.4k summary: As a snow demon, Jihoon can’t stand the heat and takes to staying in his apartment he shares with his roommate, Y/N. When the AC breaks down, Jihoon asks Y/N for help in keeping him cool. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller, roommates to lovers; non idol au, roommate au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, roommates; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a LOT of fun to write. I enjoyed the ice aspect of it. It’s not heavy on the spitting but it is there lol it’s more heavy on the temperature play and now I wanna tie Jihoon down to my bed and tease him with ice cubes. Hehe anyway, thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging and supporting my ko-fi, linked on my pinned post! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), temperature play (m receiving), spitting (m receiving. Yeah, I know. That’s different haha), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do dis), use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. his: babe, baby, Hoonie, etc.), that should be everything but I might have missed some. Let me know if I did! kinks: Temperature play + spitting dialogue prompt: ❛❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜❜

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Jihoon let out a grumbled curse as he hit the hard plastic casing of the AC unit once more, as if that would magically make the blasted thing function. It rumbled for a moment before sputtering and dying, all the cool air blowing from the vent ceasing in an instant. He let out a groan of frustration as he stepped down from the step ladder.

“Stupid, fucking, thing,” he mumbled as he picked up the ladder, folded it, and put it away.

It was October and while most of the time, the world around him was starting to cool, summer was holding on, its claws embedded as he tried to stick out for as long as possible. Jihoon hated the summer. The unbearable heat, the unrelenting sun beating down on the world, scorching everything in its path. He hated all of it.

Which is why he was thankful for the fact he worked from home and hardly ever had to leave the apartment. He was even able to order the groceries online when you, his roommate, weren’t able to pick them up after work.

Jihoon walked into his room, grabbing one of the small hand held fans he kept in case of emergencies and turning it on, sighing as the fan whirred to life, blasting him with a small breeze. He started a search through the apartment, gathering every single fan he could find. He was on a mission.

Summer had been unbearably hot this year, the heat rising up near the hundreds almost daily. The humidity was no help, sitting comfortably in the eighty to ninety percent range, making it not only scorchingly hot but sweltering. And if you were dying, you could only image how the heat was affecting your roommate.

Jihoon was not accustomed to such high temperatures, having come from a very cold climate and built to withstand sub zero extremes. He always had a hard time with the summer but this season had been particularly hard on him and he had spent most, if not all, of his time in the apartment, unable to leave because of the extreme heat.

And you knew it was about to get worse. 

When you had woken up that morning, it was in a pool of your own sweat. The AC had stopped working and you only had your fan to cool you off which was not nearly enough. You tried to fix it yourself but you only had so much time to devote to your attempts before you had to get ready for work. Upon leaving, you left a note for Jihoon explaining that the AC was out and that you couldn’t fix it.

Upon arriving at work and after your morning meeting, you called the apartment complex manager, got transferred to maintenance and called in a work order. The woman answering the phone promised to put in the order and expedite it due to the climbing temperatures the coming weekend. You had sent a text to Jihoon, informing him of this and all you had received back was a sad frowning face.

As you finished up your work for the day, you checked your phone to find a few texts from your roommate. You checked them as you got onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

Hoon: i tried to fix it

Hoon: no luck )):

Hoon: it’s so hot ;^;

Hoon: i’m going to die

Hoon: help

You chuckled as you typed a response, letting him know you were on your way home and you would stop to get some ice cream on the way. You jokingly told him to stick his head in the freezer before slipping your phone into your purse as the elevator arrived at the lobby and you headed out the door onto the busy sidewalk.

The bus ride to the train station was uneventful and you were thankful to be out of the heat of the setting sun, underground where it was much cooler. The AC of the train didn’t even help with all the bodies crammed into the metal tube, heat radiating from one person to another. Upon arriving home, you were thankful for the AC in the lobby and elevator. Even the cool air of the hallway felt nice but entering your apartment, it felt awful.

You shut the door, turning to set your keys on the small table next to the door as you pulled your shoes off. Walking further into the room, you noticed the fans first and stared curiously at them. At least five fans were sitting in front of the couch. The three smaller desk ones sitting on the coffee table while two tower fans stood on either side, pointing directly at your roommate.

Jihoon looked like he was melting into the furniture, a small handheld fan in his hands pointed directly at his face. His brows furrowed, face twisted in what you could only assume to be agony. A thin layer of sweat coated his pale skin. He’d taken off most of his clothes, wearing only a white tank and a pair of gym shorts. “You look awful,” you scoffed as you leaned over, resting against the back of the couch.

His eyes fluttered open, head tilting back to look up at you. “I’m dying,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. You sighed, reaching down to feel his clammy skin. “You’re a little warm,” you said softly. “You want me to put a wet towel on your forehead?” you asked. He nodded weakly and you stood up straight, walking down the hall to the linen closet, grabbing a washcloth and walking back to the kitchen, turning on the cold water tap.

Once coating the cloth and wringing out most of the liquid, you returned to the couch, folding the cloth in half before setting it on Jihoon’s forehead. He let out a sigh of relief, eyes shut as he basked in the cool feeling of the wet cloth against his skin. “Have you tried taking a cold shower?” you asked, leaning against the couch again. Jihoon nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “Twice!”

You clicked your tongue, reaching down to brush his dark hair back. “I need an ice bath,” he murmured as you stroked his hair. “If you had said something, I would have gotten a bag of ice from the convenience store on the corner.” You perked up, standing suddenly. “Speaking of…”

You walked over to the black plastic bag and pulled out two boxes of Melona, moving to the freezer to put both boxes away. You tore open one, grabbing a popsicle and shut the door before returning to the couch. “Here,” you said, holding the frozen treat out for Jihoon. His eyes opened halfway and he reached out for the popsicle. “You’re an angel,” he murmured as he gave you a weak smile.

“Have I ever told you that?” he asked. You shook your head, resisting the urge to smirk. “Well,” he said, tearing open the wrapper. “You are.” He opened his mouth, placing the frozen melon treat on his tongue, humming contentedly. “I’m gonna go shower,” you announced. “Did you take my fan, too?” you asked, glancing at the fans in front of him. He shook his head.

“No,” he replied, removing the popsicle from his mouth, licking his lips. “I left yours alone.” You patted his head before heading down the hall to your room, pushing open the door to find like he said, your fan was sitting in its usual place. You shut the door, moving to your bathroom to strip and get into the shower. You turned on the stream, stepping under it before it even heated up, enjoying the cold water against your hot skin.

You rushed through your shower, keeping the water warm enough to wash yourself but not scalding like you normally liked it. Once finished, you stepped out, drying off and pulling on clean clothes. A pair of shorts and a lightweight tank top. You headed back into the living room to find Jihoon hadn’t moved an inch. His popsicle had been consumed and he was breathing slowly as he basked in the fan generated winds.

You shook your head, moving to get a bowl from the cabinet. Jihoon perked up as you moved about the kitchen, peeking up over the back of the couch as you moved to the sink. You turned on the faucet, filling the bowl halfway before turning it off and heading to the fridge, opening the freezer and scooping some of the ice out into the bowl. 

You started back towards your room and noticed him peering at you over the back of the sofa. “You good?” you asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. “What’s that?” he asked, lifting his head more to see the bowl in your hands. “It’s an old trick,” you replied. “I’ll show you,” you added as you started for your room, stopping to look back at him.

“Bring the fans.”

Jihoon followed you, carrying the two tower fans with him to your room. You set up a stool from your vanity with the bowl on it near the bed before setting the fans up behind it, facing the fans towards the bowel and turning them on high. “Lay down.” you instructed. Jihoon climbed onto your bed, laying across it. You joined him and smiled as he sighed.

“The fan blows across the cool air that settles on the surface of the ice water and blows it out. It’s something we used to do when I was a kid. We didn’t have AC when I was growing up,” you explained. “It’s really nice,” he murmured.

The two of you lay there in silence, eyes shut as you enjoyed the cool air. Jihoon soon started to squirm and you opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him. “What’s wrong?” you asked. He sighed and turned to look at you. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong,” he said softly. “But it’s not enough.”

You glanced at the bowl of ice and then back to Jihoon before an idea popped into your head. “Wait here,” you said as you got up, walking into your bathroom and returning with a towel. Jihoon watched as you placed the towel down on your bed. “Lay on the towel,” you instructed. He got up with a groan and started to move as you walked around to where the bowl of ice sat. 

“And take your shirt off.”

Jihoon froze, turning his gaze to look at you as you pulled the stool closer to the bed. “Take my shirt off?” he asked, watching you with wide eyes. You nodded. “Trust me,” you said as you sat on the edge of the bed, the stool with the bowl of ice between your thighs. Jihoon hesitated before slipping his shirt off and setting it aside. “Lay down,” you told him. He did as you said, laying on his back.

You dipped your hand into the bowl, scooping up one of the ice cubes and turned to Jihoon, placing it against his skin. He let out a gasp which turned quickly into a sigh. “Feel better?” you asked. He nodded wordlessly, licking his lips as you started to run the ice all over his chest, first across his collar bones and then down his sternum to his stomach.

You could see the beads of water rolling down his skin to the towel under him. The ice cube melted pretty quickly and you soon grabbed another, sliding it over his skin, up to his neck, letting it pool slightly before running it along his shoulders until it too melted. You continued this, going through a few ice cubes. “How do you feel?” you asked as you grabbed a smaller cube, popping it into your mouth.

“G-good,” Jihoon said, swallowing thickly. As you grabbed another ice cube, you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. Raising a brow, you turned back to look at his face. “Someone’s getting a little excited,” you said with a hint of amusement. Jihoon’s eyes opened and he glanced down, quickly covering himself with his hands. “S-sorry,” he muttered.

You smiled slyly. “Don’t be,” you said simply as you brushed another frozen cube over his skin, paying special attention to his chest, dragging the ice around one nipple before moving to the other. He let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering shut as you continued to tease him with the frozen water. “Y/N,” he moaned softly as you pressed the ice against his skin, placing your palm over it and sliding it around, drops of water rolling down his skin as you guided your hand lower and lower until the ice was gone.

You grabbed another cub, pressing against his stomach with your hand, sliding lower and lower until your fingers worked under the waistband of his shorts. Jihoon’s eyes snapped open and he met your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly. He shook his head, holding your gaze.

Without taking your eyes off him, you slipped your hand into his shorts, finding him completely without underwear as you guided the ice down his groin. Jihoon let out a groan as your hand pushed the ice down to his cock, finding it already completely hard. “S-sorry about this,” Jihoon whispered as you let the ice melt at the base of his cock. “Don’t apologize,” you said as you grabbed another ice cube with your free hand, popping it into your mouth again.

You pulled your hand out, sticking your hand into the ice water for a few seconds before pulling it out and slipped your hand back into his shorts, your cold hand wrapping around the shaft of his cock. Jihoon groaned, hips bucking slightly. “What?” you asked, sounding slightly condescending. “Does that feel good?” you cooed. Jihoon nodded, biting into his bottom lip as your hand started to stroke him slowly.

You grabbed another ice cube, popping it into your mouth and climbed onto the bed, moving to kneel beside him. “What’re you doing?” Jihoon asked as you grabbed the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down. This was crossing so many lines but at this point, neither you nor Jihoon could be bothered to care. He lifted his hips as you tugged his shorts down, freeing his cock.

You wrapped your hands around him again. You glanced up at him before taking his cock into your mouth. The ice had melted already but your tongue had a lingering coolness to it and it made Jihoon groan as his head fell back, your head sinking down as you took more and more of his cock into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,” he gasped, his hand resting on the back of your head.

“Feels so good.”

You pulled back, letting his cock fall from your mouth. You moved to grab another ice cube, popping it into your mouth under your tongue before taking Jihoons cock back into your mouth. He let out a guttural moan as your head bobbed, your cold spit dribbling down his shaft. “F-ah. Holy shit!” he groaned as your tongue shifted, the ice under it slipping out and pressing against his cock.

Jihoon bucked his hips, thrusting up into your mouth and hitting the back of your mouth. “Don’t stop, god please don’t stop,” he groaned as you pulled off him, grabbing another ice cube before taking him back into your mouth. You slid the ice over his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles twitched. You glided the ice down past his cock, pressing it to the base of the underside of his cock, beads of cold water rolling down past his balls.

He bucked again, his cock making you gagged but you made no attempt to move back instead letting him set a steady pace, thrusting shallowly into your mouth while you let the ice trail over his skin. “F-fucking hell. M’gonna cum if you keep doing that!” he gasped. You pulled back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock as you let the ice finish melting.

“You wanna cum in my mouth or inside me?” you asked, your voice low and seductive. “Inside you, please,” he begged, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “C’mere,” he added as he pulled you towards him. You crawled over him, letting your tongue run up his stomach and chest before he pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

You pulled back, tugging your shirt off over your head and then shimmying out of your shorts and underwear. You grabbed two more ice cubes, popping one into your mouth as you straddled his lap. Jihoon grabbed his cock, lining it up with your slit as you hovered over him. “Wait shouldn’t I — oh fuck!” he gasped as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking it into your cunt.

Once his cock was nestled inside your walls, you pressed the other ice cube against his chest. His hands moved to your hips, eyes rolling back as you started to move slowly, rolling your hips as you glided the ice over his skin. “Oh fuck that feels so good,” he groaned, hips bucking slightly as you rode him at your own pace.

You leaned over to grab another cube, popping it into your mouth and letting it melt on your tongue. Once it was gone, you leaned over, hips continued to roll as you grinded against Jihoon. His cock throbbed and twitched inside you as he matched your movements, thrusting up into you.

“Open your mouth,” you whispered, grabbing him by the jaw. He hesitated before obliging, parting his lips. You surprised him by spitting into his mouth quickly before kissing him roughly. It was much different than he was used to but with all the ice cubes you had let melt into your mouth, he would let you do anything if it meant you’d keep using the ice cubes.

His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin. “M’close,” he groaned against your lips. You grabbed another cube from the bowl, most of it water by this point. “Open your mouth,” you whispered, pushing the cube past his lips when he parted them. Your lips met his, tongue slipping into his mouth, making the ice cube swirl around his mouth.

You change the roll of your hips for lifting them, bouncing on his cock and driving you both towards the edge. “M’gonna cum,” he groaned against your lips. “Do it,” you urged. “Cum inside me.” Jihoon devolved into a series of curses, moans, and whimpers as he chased his high, hips rutting up to meet yours as he tumbled over the edge, his cum releasing into your walls until it started to spill out of you.

Your walls spasmed around him as you came, moaning against his lips as your hips started to falter. Jihoon held you in place as he thrusted up into you, riding out both your highs until he finally stilled, letting you sink down on his spent cock, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.

You let out a sigh, collapsing onto his chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Jihoon’s hand rested on your back, fingers trailing up and down your spine as he stared up at the ceiling. “That was…” you trailed off, searching for the right word. “Incredible,” Jihoon finished your sentence. “That was fucking incredible.”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, a smile spread across your face before you both broke into laughter. Your laughter lasted a few minutes as the reality of your situation settled on you.

“So,” Jihoon said, moving a hand to the back of your neck. “Where does this leave us?” he asked. You shrugged. “Where do you want it to leave us?” you responded with your own question. Jihoon’s other hand moved to cup your cheek, eyes dipping to your lips as he brushed over them with his thumb. “I kind of want to make this a regular thing,” he muttered. “Especially if we include the ice.”

You pressed a chaste kiss to the bad of his thumb. “Well,” you replied, pushing his hand back and leaning in to kiss his lips. “The AC won’t be fixed until tomorrow,” you reminded him as you reached up to brush his hair back off his forehead. “So we have the rest of the day.” 

A smile spread across Jihoon’s face. “You want to go again?” he asked. You nodded as you pushed yourself up. “Can you grab a new towel?” you asked as you climbed off him and off the bed entirely. “Where are you going?” he asked as he sat up, watching you grab the bowl from the stool. You turned to look at him as you moved towards the door.

“We need more ice.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[normansnt]

Ace

(Alastor x male reader)

Explain to Alastor what Ace means

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you

"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.

"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"

Now to this you looked up.

"What?" You answered very confused

"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.

"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"

Now he got confused as well.

"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"

"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"

"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.

"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"

He sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."

Alastor just stared at you.

Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??

Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.

He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?

"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.

"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"

"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.

"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."

"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"

You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.

Alastor kissed you.

You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.

His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.

"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.

You were a blushing mess.

You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.

Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.

This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.

It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.

"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.

"I would love to" you smiled back at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹

BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM

I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀

Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[jay-joy113]

First headcannons, might as well go all in

Twisted wonderland

How would the characters react to you being an absolute menace to society? Part 1

Riddle

Please stop, youll give him an early grave. Or dont, im sure Ace will find it funny as fuck to see you get collared for painting all the roses yellow or eating all the sweets end switching them for Meat rolls. If you end Riddle are dating he might ask if you have something

"My Rose, are you sure you dont have OCD or something?"

It might come off as very offensive if you are just a natural harbinger of chaos, or youll have a great day pranking him by telling that you DO have something, end if really have he will try his best to be more... *patient*

"Sigh... no, no, i wont scream, deep breathes control yourself they cant help it"

Leona

Are you **sure** you want to be near him when all you do is enough to wake the beast?

Might hate you at first if you go down on the "*lets prank a literal lion with magic whos also buff*" route, so your best choice to get on his good graces is annoying the teachers so they wont disturb his sleep, or annoy people he doesn't like.. wich is almost everyone.

"Herbivore, what did you do this time? Make it quick, im not in the mood to chat"

"Impressive for a herbivore, if i ever need an jester ill be sure to consider you... nah, you make a better pillow"

If you guys date he **WILL** make you calm the fuck down for cuddles

Azul

Youll give him an early grave 2.

Please never meet Floyd, hes begging you-

Too late, now he has 2 walking tornados full of too much energy.

Might make you banned from the lounge, if you dont behave or at least lock you on the VIP room.

"Pearl- Floyd- please stop breaking everything!"

Kalim

You are so fun! Wont you join his next feast-

Jamil hates you with all his guts, give him a break he already is almost a single mother at this point-

If you end kalim are together he will find you very lively, but youll discover sooner than later that he doesn't like when the joke goes too far.

"Why were you so mean to them? You should apologize so we can all be friends"

Not very funny to prank since hes almost never too scared of it end wont get too angry.

Vil

"POTATO, DID YOU PUT DYE ON MY SHAMPOO?!"

Does not enjoy your pranks end will demand you to stop them before he has to put you on watch by Rook.

You might find yourself on good manners lessons with Epel, who will break you out so he can ditch the class since Vil will be too busy with you.

Idia

You are NOT allowed in his room, even if you guys date. He cannot bet on the life of his precious merch end tech, even if he loves you a lot.

Will not hesitate to put a security system especialy for you if you ever do come to his room, wich will probably only make you unable to mess anything but wont hurt you.

"Nyshishi... my win, reader-sama"

Malleus

Are you related to Lilia?

He likes how lively you are, end does like your mischif, it feels very familiar end it shows you are comfy enough to do that with him.

That being said, the gargoyles are off limits.

DO NOT HARM THEM.

Or you might find a very pouty Malleus at your door in the middle of a storm.

"Beloved, i belive we talked about limits"

Thanks for reading

[sigmasemen]

WHEN THEY GIVE YOU THEIR COAT. (1/2)

multiple blue lock characters x reader

tags: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, short headcanons.

taglist: n/a currently.

characters: jingo raichi, meguru bachira, yo hiori, kurona ranze, sae itoshi, gin gagamaru, michael kaiser, kenyu yukimiya, alexis ness, gender neutral!reader.

word count: 2348

extra notes: reposted from my wattpad ^—^ !! older work… you cannot get me to read this shit. had to post it in multiple parts sorry y’all!!

JINGO RAICHI:

- He's definitely the sort of guy to get embarrassed that he did it. However, he'd also do it for the sweetest reason. Even if it comes at his own expense.

- Probably something simple. A sudden snow storm during your date, he realizes you're shivering as you walk home. At first, he tries just giving you his mittens but your shivering gets worse.

- "Just- Just take this." He throws his jacket over you in seconds, not making eye contact as he does it. You smiled like an idiot when he did it but he just played it off.

- You end up keeping it for a long time, and even though he's embarrassed about the story behind it, he thinks you look really nice in it. He's even got a photo of you in it that he gushes over! 

- "Gushes over" mostly internally. He tries his best to never gush aloud about you. A hard but needed challenge.

- One of his friends tease him about the jacket though (Probably Bachira) and he ends up shouting at him to stop laughing. 

- The walk of shame to Ego's office to ask for a new coat because his old one was "lost" was known amongst all teams for months.

MEGURU BACHIRA:

- Another sudden storm on your date, except you're both out of a restaurant. (McDonalds, specifically. He took you there because he knew it was gonna rain and he wanted somewhere closer to home. You ended up spending too much time fooling around on the kids area (got kicked out because you're both teenager.))

- Bachira doesn't notice at first. In fact, he's shivering himself. He loves thunder and even attempts to jump in puddles with you. 

- Even though you're cold, you try your best to focus on your lovely boyfriend's smile and how happy he seems doing this.

- And not the freezing feeling you feel in your hands and thighs.

- Except after one of his louder and harder splashes, you shiver quite intensely. 

- "Oh? Oh!" He probably looks so shocked, but immediately gets close to you and throws his jacket over the both of you. Even if a good portion of Bachira is sticking out of it, he doesn't care.

- "First one to my house wins!" And even though you made it, soaked beyond belief (mostly your lower halves from bending over/standing on tippy toes to each other) you're both more than happy.

- For a while, then you realize you're both sick the next day.

- And even though Bachira's teammates tease him for making a mess of himself and getting sick because he wanted to please someone? He smiles and laugh. "It was worth it!"

YO HIORI:

- Hiori is deemed the prettiest and one of the most "gentlemen-like" people in Blue Lock due to how nicely he treats you. This story was actually quite expected and really not a shock at all. They all sort of shrugged it off as they heard and told the others, "Yeah, not a surprise.

- It was a nice day in Blue Lock, the birds (Ego) were chirping (yelling to get to work) and everything seemed to go soundly. Until a certain coach decided that it was too warm and chose to turn up the AC as high as he could.

- So, almost immediately? You were shivering in your spot and holding onto yourself.

- Until a certain pretty boy walked up behind you and tapped your shoulder. He smiled for a second and asked if you were alright.

- "Oh! Yeah, I'll be fine." 

- Hiori pauses and smiles, then wraps his coat around you. "Does that feel better?"

- You pause, then quickly nod and tighten your grip on the zipper of it. "Thanks!"

- Almost immediately does he sit next to you. He isn't a super social person, but that's fine. You aren't one either.

- It's the rare comfortable silence you get around here.

- You fumble with the jacket in your hands, feeling at the pockets until you grasped something. You glanced up at a distracted Hiori, already staring at the corner of the room. So, you dug through your pockets and noticed something.

- "Is this 9S?" It was a small can badge.

- Hiori looked your way and gave a short laugh, "Ah, it is. It's a self indulgent purchase I made last year..." He scratched the back of his head, "Sorry about that!"

- "No! I love 9S!" Your eyes practically lit up as you leaned towards him, "His design, his character, his lore, he's so investing!"

- A pause came from Hiori, before a smile spread across his lips.

KURONA RANZE:

- Kurona is the more silently romantic type. He's not the sort of guy that'll be super PDA like, but he will do a lot of romantic things in private. Like giving you his plate, or letting you touch his shark plush. Hell, he'll even let you feel his teeth and show them off them you ask about them.

- However, the most notable experience of all with him and his private displays of affection are when you two were having a casual walk through Blue Lock. You were just discussing how you wanted to become the best strikers together and your plans for the future, then he paused.

- "Are you cold?" He pointed at the bodysuit, ignoring the fact he was in an identical one. Maybe it was because sharks were secretly warm blooded...

- "Just a bit, I'll be fine!" You smile, then resume your conversation where you had left off.

- Though Kurona was physically present for the entire thing, he seemed to have more on his mind.

- And this somehow led Kurona into your dorm late at night, dropping his jacket off at your dorm along with a note. You knew it was simple, but the small shark doodle with a thumbs up along with his slightly sloppy hand writing made you smile.

- From there on, even if it inconvenienced you, you would wear his coat constantly. During matches, in public, whenever. Every time Kurona sees you with it, it makes him nod. He doesn't smile much, but he always has a slightly less neutral expression his face and occasionally is more touchy.

SAE ITOSHI:

- Sae isn't a particularly romantic person, he only acts romantic when he's dating someone. He's significantly more subtle with his romantic actions. You have one of his jerseys? You probably took it from his locker.

- You've actually given him more of your clothes than he's given you his. He doesn't wear your clothes unless you really nag him about it. Then he'll do it just to make you smile.

- However, there are rare instances where he'll give you just a bit of attention. It's not super pampering, but he will give you his stuff. Specifically his coat if you look cold. It's rare, he does end up asking for it back, but he loans you it a lot.

- You've told him countless times he doesn't have to, but he keeps doing it.

- It's nice. Honestly? It smells just like him. It's surprisingly clean 90% of the time.

- On more often occasions, you're wearing his jersey to surprise him. He always tells you to take it off because he doesn't want it to be messed up (he trusts you, just... Not with his clothing.). He still thinks you look nice in it. 

- He gives you one of his coats and jerseys more permanently after you get married, and then has to pry his eyes away. It just makes you want to wear it all the more. 

- He has a small photo of it that you gifted him in his bottom drawer. He sometimes looks at it but hides it for the most part.

GIN GAGAMARU:

- Gagamaru has a hard time realizing when hems actually being romantic or nice. He does try really hard to make you happy and do all the romantic things in the world for you.

- However, jackets.

- He never understood why partners were so into giving each other coats because he could only imagine how the smell of the jacket would be. Not that you smelled bad, of course not. He thought you smelled great. It would just be foreign.

- However, that all changed when you first offered him your jacket. It was after a chilly day and you wanted to be romantic, so he took it for your approval.

- He wore it for a few days without complaint. He even asked Isagi to wash it a few times. It was a lot different than he'd thought. It was like carrying a bit of you around everywhere you went. Like he had your arms constantly around you. A constant memory of you in his mind, no matter what he was doing.

- He took a lot longer than necessary to give it back, but he gave it back when you needed it again since you were cold.

- You even when he did it, "Isn't this my jacket?"

- "I thought we were sharing it now." He reached over to pat your head gently.

- Well, you accepted pretty quickly that you were going to be sharing a jacket with Gagamaru from now on. Not like that was an issue though. You enjoyed it.

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 1 : A Taste of their Downfall

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warnings : Morally Grey Characters

A/N : I need pics for future scenes so im faceclaiming Sofia Carson as Y/N ~

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious

‼️Read Act 1 First

<Previous Masterlist Next>

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Y/N, where were you? “ You and Lewis were back in his driver's room inside Mercedes.

You were still in shock about how you just quit your position as Lewis’ Engineer. You cannot believe that they had tried to demote you after all the successes you’ve brought to this team.

“Y/N? Are you even listening? “ Lewis had once again tried to catch your attention.

“Toto demoted me from being your race engineer” you suddenly said, you waited for Lewis to react. But there was nothing. You tried to gauge his face. Suddenly, realization stuck right through you. He knew. Lewis knew.

Horror and absolute terror filled your system. You cannot believe what you were seeing.

“You knew? Lewis, please tell me you didn’t ” your voice broke , as you begged. You again tried to ask Lewis. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe you had it all wrong. You hoped … you prayed that Lewis had nothing to do with any of it.

Lewis was hesitant, he tried to hold your hand. You stepped away from his touch. He looked wounded from your action, but you didn’t care you were adamant to know the truth.

Yet , He was remained silent.

“ LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON TELL ME THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW! TELL ME YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!” You were ballistic as you demanded an explanation

“ YES, I KNEW! HAPPY?! Toto said that you were distracted and that you were becoming soft on Verstappen! We cannot lose this Championship! Y/N! I’m this close to being the best that this sport has ever seen! This close! You will not be the reason that I lost this! “

As you hear his words, life drains from your face. Lewis was in on it. The person that you love had been a part of your betrayal. You cannot believe it. The person that you gave everything to , the person you trusted the most had stabbed you in the back and dug your grave. And for what? For a stupid fucking title.

Angry cannot explain what you were feeling now. You were seething.

“ Oh, i’ll make sure that I will be the reason that you’ll never win that title. You can count on that , Hamilton”

No, you can’t believe it. You didn’t cry, because you could not comprehend what you had just discovered.

Villains are bred, not born. The fine line between a hero and a villain is slim — pull too hard and the line will snap. Blurring the line is far too easy. Everyone and everything has its limits, no matter how vast and far the maximum is, there will always be an endpoint.

The line has been crossed, You have had enough. Six years you’ve swallowed your pride and took beating after beating with a smile, as if it were normal — turning over the other cheek so they can hit it too. For six fucking years, you’ve suffered being belittled and taken for granted by everybody. The numbness you’ve forced yourself to feel to handle the pain had transformed into rage.

Fire, you felt the burning of fury manifesting in your body. Too much, it has just been too much. They had lit the match and threw it into the powder barrel.

The coldness of your apartment held no comparison to the burning you felt inside. The shock and anger electrocuting you still. You cannot comprehend the depth of monstrosity that loomed over the motorhome of Mercedes and the people in it. Till now ,they are continuously celebrating the win as if it is something festive and joyous. Mercedes celebrated the win in Silverstone as if a person was not lying in bed in immense pain due to their driver’s fault. Mercedes dared to set ablaze fireworks and pop bottles of liquor as if they were clean and innocent from all their dirty actions.

They were celebrating as if they did not just try to screw you and your career over. It was as if the years of maltreatment and abuse that they caused you were being swept under the rug. Ravenous, you felt completely ravenous.

They said that revenge is best served cold, but you digress. Oh no, revenge is best served sweltering, blazing and scorching— enough that they feel the heat of the fires of hell with no return. They did not hesitate to hurt you, why should you show mercy? An eye for an eye was not enough, you demanded a corpse.

Vicious, Cutthroat, and Merciless are words that they associated with your name behind your back. These words used to bring you insecurity, now you’ll wear it like a badge — proud and unashamed. They’ll get what they want. Call it petty and deceitful, but nothing good ever came from you swallowing your pride.

They deserve what’s coming to them.

Game. Fucking. On.

***

It was the morning after, and you were seated on your couch, your leg bouncing up and down. Lewis did not come back to your apartment. No, he had partied with the rest of them.

Leaving Mercedes was easy, but Lewis… Lewis Hamilton was another story.

It was different when you’ve spent 6 years of your life loving someone. Your love for Lewis was deeper than you could’ve understood. To you, he was the light that shined through the darkness. You imagined that you’d spend your lifetime with him. Creating a future for both of you. Lewis completed you.

But it seemed that you were alone in the journey that you painted. Because what you saw on that podium is a man not wanting to be tied down. You saw a man that wanted all the freedom and glory that this sport gave.

Maybe at first, He had wanted you, but along with the speed and fame that Formula 1 brought … he no longer needed Y/N L/N, the woman that he loved. Lewis Hamilton wanted Y/N L/N the engineer that gave him his championships.

It was hard to let go. But you knew that you didn’t deserve any of that. You're not someone who should be kept in the shadows. You deserve to be loved by someone who’ll proudly show the world that you’re theirs. You deserve someone who knows your worth apart from what you can give.

You looked at your apartment, letting yourself feel and reminisce the memories that you and Lewis made, for one last time.

One last time, you let yourself cry for everything that Lewis never gave, the empty promises and the heartaches and even the happy memories that you two shared…this was finally goodbye. Because, from now on you’re choosing yourself.

“ Goodbye, Lew”

And you were gone.

***

“Y/N, Baby? Why weren’t you at the party? And what’s Toto talking about you quitting?” Lewis came into your apartment, the headache pounding on his temple from the alcohol from the night before.

He rummaged through the fridge, looking for a sip of water. Lewis expected you to come up behind him and hug his waist, just like how you did every time. Yet, this time you weren’t here with the usual morning kiss and a coffee at hand.

“Babe? Are you still in bed?” Lewis trudged his way to your shared bedroom, only to find it empty.

“Y/N? Where are you? Look I’m sorry, alright!? Please talk to me.“

Lewis searched every part of your house, looking for a sign of your presence.

And then in the living room, on top of the coffee table, a letter you wrote was pressed under a ring — the promise ring that he gave to you on your anniversary.

With shaking hands, as panic started to envelop Lewis, he held up the letter and read.

My dearest, Lewis.

I never imagined myself in the position that I have to say goodbye to you. Despite my best efforts to mend what's broken, I can't shake the feeling that our relationship has run its course. The love that once bound us together now feels like a faint shadow of what it once was, and I can't bear to see us continue down this path.

I can’t forgive what you’ve done. No matter how much I love you I cannot bear to think of your betrayal. But also please know that I am sorry. I had led myself to believe that we wanted the same thing. I thought that we both wanted to build a future together. But now I see that I was wrong. And I don’t think it would be fair of me to force you to want the same. You deserve to follow the path that you choose. I’m sorry, Lew but I also want freedom. I want someone who would shout to the world that they love me. I’m sorry but I can no longer wait on your promise.

You can now run free, Champ. I’m letting you go. Enjoy the glory. Goodbye, Lewis.

- Y/N

Dread washed over him in an instant. Like freezing water was dumped over him. The nausea of his hangover is gone. Lewis felt his chest growing heavier by the second and his stomach had started twisting with fear a sudden pit growing. Tears started to blur his vision as he clutched the paper in his hands.

The memory of your fight replayed in his mind. How could he do that to you? You were the person who was with him through every challenge that life had thrown at him. You were the person who supported him when no one did.

And suddenly his phone vibrated. To Lewis’ surprise — a text from Nico Rosberg

I knew , she’d leave . Y/N deserves better.

Lewis couldn’t believe what was in his hands. No, Lewis couldn’t accept that you were gone. Lewis couldn’t believe that you had left him.

“What have I done?”

***

“Welcome to Red Bull Racing , Y/N! It’s a pleasure to finally have you!”

“ The pleasure is all mine”

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @sam-is-lost @peterholland04 @luckyladycreator2 @lovemesomeescapism @yettobedetermined7 @nikfigueiredo @ironmaiden1313 @alliwantisadonut @uuoozzii @marshmummy @kemillyfreitas @yaesflorist @pretzelcat4-blog @smdrl @zoeyjadetice2010 @splaterparty0-0 @likedbygaslyy

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

[403tarot]

⫬ ⫬ ⊹ . . . SPECIAL MESSAGE FROM YOUR SPIRIT GUIDE — WHAT DO YOU NEED NOW?

hello! today i offer a post about a very important subject: spirituality. take what resonates with you and leave the rest. close your eyes and take a deep breath to choose the pic that calls you the most. feedbacks make duckie really happy <3

PICK A POCHACCO!

IF YOU CHOSE POCHACCO 1 ...

Your personality today is the result of a mix of unique experiences. Life hasn't always been kind to you, and that has directly influenced how you perceive the world and interact with people around you, which may have caused some important aspects of your character to retreat. Nevertheless, lately, you've been actively seeking to rediscover yourself and recover from the damages of your past.

Ah, the past. When you were going through such a delicate moment and felt your heart burdened with sadness, perhaps no one extended a hand to help you stand up. Although it was painful, you can't let those wounds keep bleeding and staining your path going forward. It's time to put a stop to that.

Your subconscious is actively working to help you find emotional balance in your life again. Problems, fears, and anxieties can't prevent the blessings destined for you from coming your way. You have a strong spiritual protection that never leaves you alone, and it calls for your success and peace.

Prioritizing yourself is essential in this new stage of your life. Know that not everyone will understand your actions — they might call you selfish, distance themselves from you, or say that you've changed. But you must stay strong; taking care of yourself is not a selfish act, but an altruistic one: by tending to your needs and reaching your goals, you become a better person and an inspiration for others to pursue their own happiness.

DIRECT MESSAGE FROM YOUR SPIRIT GUIDE:

ROSEMARY — PURITY, HEAL, REMEMBER

When rosemary comes into your reading, it's time to cleanse and purify. Don't hold onto things or people that aren't beneficial to you or your path. Let go and rid yourself of unnecessary energies. Be wise and take note of what you are purifying and why. This insight can help you continue to grow. Repeat to yourself:

" I remember, I cleanse and I heal"

cards pulled: the high priestess & the empress | ace of cups & 5 of pents | 6 of pents & knight of swords | 5 of wands, the moon & queen of swords | rosemary

IF YOU CHOSE POCHACCO 2 ...

What is draining your energy and willingness to move forward? The burden on your shoulders has always been heavy, but still, you persisted and remained strong. The stones on your path, no matter how heavy they may seem, cannot gain enough strength to prevent you from reaching what you desire. It's time to look back, see the entire journey you've already traveled, and allow yourself to be proud of things you achieved til now.

Your peace has been disturbed. It seems you can never stay stable for long, and just when you think things will improve, something appears to trap you in anxieties again. You wonder, "If there really is something or someone divine regulating all things, why does the scale of justice never seem to tip in my favor?"

I know you've been trying hard and would like an immediate return, but unfortunately, that's not how things work. Your heart needs to calm down and accept that not everything will always be rosy because life is built on ups and downs. It's necessary to see things from another angle and distance yourself from negative energies as soon as possible, as they will only drag you down further.

Everything you want and desire will be within your reach because nothing beneath the sky is impossible. You have everything to achieve happiness, even though you often forget that. Confront your negative emotions and free yourself from what troubles you. Scream into your pillow, cry, release it all. You are always so kind and understanding with other people's problems... why aren't you the same with your own problems too?

DIRECT MESSAGE FROM YOUR SPIRIT GUIDE:

SPILLED SALT — RELEASE, CONFRONT

If spilled salt shows up in your reading, it's telling you to be aware of the evils that maybe trying to creep in your life. Take time to confront this issue or person. Don't allow yourself to be held down to people or things that are not beneficial to you. Take control, confront and release these energies from your life. Make a wise wish and repeat to yourself:

"Blessed be"

cards pulled: strength, 10 of swords & knight of wands | 2 of wands, 4 of wands & justice | the hanged man, 10 of cups & 6 of wands | the devil, the magician & queen of cups | spilled salt

IF YOU CHOSE POCHACCO 3 ...

You are insatiable with your goals. Your desire to grow, evolve, and achieve shows that you have been striving to present a better version of yourself. However, excessive self-demand and perfectionism may be disturbing your mind too much and, worse, hindering your climb to the top.

You often lament, "I could have done things differently," "I didn't do enough," "I wish I could go back in time to start over and try harder," ignoring the fact that everything you've achieved today is the result of your own merit. You did exactly what you should have done and undoubtedly gave your best within what was possible at that moment. Keep moving forward. Strive to make the future better. Don't wait until next Monday... start taking action now.

Accept and understand that you are the one responsible for the good things in your life. Treat yourself and what you have with more kindness! Instead of always thinking about what you can achieve in the future, look at what you have now. Don't become obsessed with what the next days, months, or years hold for you. Live in the present. What is meant for you will never escape you and will come at the right time.

You have been dedicated to being on the right path, and that way, you have a bright future. Nevertheless, it's necessary for you to still celebrate the little things happening in your life today. They might not be as grand as what you aspire for your future, but they are still important and part of who you are. When was the last time you took some time for yourself? When was the last time you wore your favorite pajamas, ate popcorn, and watched your favorite series without worrying about the anxiety that thinking about the future brings? Reconnect with your inner child who was delighted with a simple bag of candies (even if they were mostly bad). Sometimes, all we need is a bit of simplicity.

DIRECT MESSAGE FROM YOUR SPIRIT GUIDE

EARTH ELEMENT — GROUNDING, SURVIVAL

The element of earth invites you to slow down. With earth comes bring stability and growth. Earth can also bring light to your current work and money energy. When this card shows up in a reading, ground yourself, connect with Mother Nature and take into consideration the material aspects of your life. Connect with her nurturing energy. Earth is here to support you in all that you do. It's time to grow. Repeat to yourself:

"I grow with the earth"

cards pulled: 8 of wands, 9 of cups & knight of swords | 10 of pents, 3 of swords & temperance | 4 of cups, knight of cups & the devil | king of wands, 3 of wands & page of cups | earth element

deck used: rider waite-smith & inner witch oracle

you can book a reading with me!

• twin flame / soulmate - $18 • future spouse (+18) - $25

• spiritual advice - $15 • one question - $3.50

dm me if you're interested or want to know more of my methods <3

check my pinned to find out more of my free PAC readings!

[peterparkersnose]

Three Years

pairing: Javi Pena x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: anxiety, reader has a child, angst if you squint, re connection of the two characters, reader has a liking of photography, out of character javi but who cares (i crave this man domestically)

a/n  babies! the pedro wave recently has me worried. i dont want them to make him into eddie munson/joe quinn bc i cannot loose pedro (ive been a fan since march ‘22) and i will be heartbroken if it becomes embarrassing to stan this wonderful man. tell me he doesnt look good in that gif god damn. any narcos inaccuracies I apologize I havent watched it since the summer

summary Javi reconnects with his former fling (the ambassador’s daughter) and finds out a secret

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 6 mins 15 seconds

His palms were sweating. Maybe it was the Texas heat, or maybe for once in his life Javier Peña was actually nervous.

He sat parked on the busy street of San Antonio trying to muster up the courage to knock on your door.

2213 Ace Street, San Antonio, Texas. Y/N.

The crumpled up post it note Steve had hastily written your address down on. It was his final goodbye gift to Javi, handed over to him secretly through a handshake.

Javi figured he pulled it from a classified document. You were the ambassador to Colombia’s daughter anyways, it’s not like your address would just be laying around in the Colombian embassy.

He felt a bit out of place in the expensive neighborhood. Everyone around seemed to glare at him in his tight jeans. Maybe it was all in his head, he wasn’t sure. Anxiety seemed to overshadow his unbeatable confidence that day. He stared at the house numbers trying to figure out which one was yours.

2205, 2208… 2211

2213

Your townhome was nice. Natural brick house, a bit large for just yourself.

After all these years, you have had to move on. Three years with no contact. There was no way you were still single. And the size of this house was just living proof that you had moved on.

Three years. Javi stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down the avenue at the setting sun. When the secret relationship was exposed, it had all been swept under the rug. The facade of close friends the two of you had been putting on was figured out by your father. One of Javi’s biggest regrets was letting you leave and go back to the states. He didn’t want to admit it then, but he knew.

He was in love.

Three years. Javi couldn’t believe it.

He swallowed sharply. Three years, he had to at least see you. Be in your presence one more time, even if it was just to say a proper goodbye. The crumpled up post it returned to his pocket as he made his way up your steps.

The doorbell was an antique painted white; typical for these upscale neighborhoods. He rung it, and prayed you weren’t home.

His stomach dropped when he heard your sweet voice.

“Coming!”

The door whistfully opened. Your hair was tied back and you had an apron on over your outfit. Flour was smeared over the apron along with other various baking ingredients Javi couldn’t name.

Your expression fell from ‘I think my package I ordered is here’ to a face Javi couldn’t even explain. Confusion mixed with such an unannounced wave of hurt.

Silence and stares became the moment as your soft radio in the background ended its song and switched to a commercial.

“Hi,” Is all that he could manage to say. He let out a breathe of air he had felt like he had been holding for years.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, giving him one more glance to make sure this was real.

“What are you doing he-” you began to say, but you were interrupted.

“Mommy!” said your son, trotting in from the kitchen to find the two of you standing there. Your back stiffened as you took in a sharp breath. “The cakes, there big! Too big.” the child exclaimed, waving his hands in the air to tell the story.

“Shit, Grant!” you scolded your son, scooping the boy up in your arms and whisking him back to the kitchen.

“One second, Javier!” you called from the kitchen. His stomach seemed to turn at the use of his name. His full name.

He stood dumbfounded at your door. So you had moved on.

Javi slowly entered your house. Pictures hung on your wall; he recognized one from a date he took you on. He hated hiking, but the beautiful sights were just too good to miss in Colombia. He could see the corner of the picnic blanket in the photo, remembering the nice time together. Pictures of the boy were hung, of course. Baby photos and photos looking like they were taken yesterday of Grant were in various frames around the house.

His heart stopped when he saw the one picture sitting on your fireplace. An easy one to miss, but he spotted it.

You, himself, Steve, and Connie all smiling at the bar you used to frequent. Wouldn’t your spouse be mad about those pictures being on display?

“I see you let yourself in,” you said, entering the room once again. “I can go, I’m sorry but… you still have these?” he asked. Your eyes widened as he mentioned leaving.

“Your welcome to stay, please, have a seat if you’d like.” you offered, taking off your apron and hanging it on a hook. Javi could sense your shock. “Wouldn’t your husband be upset? I mean with our history…”

“No husband.” you said with a tight lipped smile. “Just me and Grant.”

“Your son?” Javier asked, looking down the hallway leading to your kitchen. There he saw the boy peeking out behind the wall. Once they made eye contact, he gasped and retreated the kitchen.

“How did you find me?” you asked, ignoring the question. “I… had help?” he said, trying not to throw Steve under the bus. He took the post it note out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Steve’s handwriting,” you chuckled to yourself. His distinct chicken scratch was hard to not recognize.

“I saw that you finally got that bastard,” you scoffed. “I was so relieved when I saw Escobar was killed on the news. It was strange, though. Seeing you and Steve through a screen.”

“Yeah,” Javi awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to meet him?” you asked, biting the bullet. “Escobar?” Javi asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “No,” you chuckled, turning around to see your snooping son again.

“C’mere,” you said sweetly, giving into the child’s interest in this stranger.

Grant came running and hit your form so hard you almost fell forwards on your knees. “Careful baby,” you chuckled, caressing his dark brown hair as he hid behind your legs.

“This is Javier,” you introduced your son to the mysterious man.

“From stories?” Grant asked, peeking out behind your legs. “Yes, baby. Like from the stories.”

Javier’s heart seemed to drop. This kid has heard stories about him before? No father around, no husband? Tell me why this kid was starting to look more and more like his mother.

He didn’t want to admit the very possible truth to himself.

“He got the bad guy?” Grant asked, now holding on to your hand. He was still very obviously weary about Javier. “Mhm,” you said, crouching down next to Grant. “Remember the TV a few weeks ago? When they caught the bad guy?” you asked your son. He looked at Javi intensively.

Your eyes met Javi’s and you felt the guilt consume you. You had to do it; even if the pit in your stomach was about to erupt out in vomit. You had to.

“He’s yours.”

“No,” Javi immediately responded. He didn’t mean to give such a negative response, he was just stuck in a haze in this new reality.

He was a father.

“Your kidding?” he asked, a hand coming to his forehead and sliding down his face. “Your the only guy I slept with in Colombia.”

“What’s his name? Full name,” he asked. “Grant Javier Peña.”

Grant looked up to his mother when she said his name. “He turned two in April,”

A silent tear rolled down Javier’s face as a hand moved to his mouth. It was early January. He had about a two and a half year old son. The little boy that had now moved to playing with action figures on the floor in front of him was his; his own flesh and blood. Half of him, half of you.

“And your father?” he anxiously asked, rubbing his hands together. “He wasn’t pleased. Doesn’t visit much anymore anyways,” you scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, trying to keep his tone steady. “I wasn’t allowed. I promise, I begged my father through my whole pregnancy. I tried letters, ways to get to Steve or Connie. Nothing. I had given up hope after his first birthday.”

“And you did this all alone?” he asked you, standing up to embrace you. His hands took yours as you shook your head yes. You bit your lip, trying your best not to cry. You wrapped your arms around his chest and felt his heartbeat. It was beating fast.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.” he whispered in your ear. “What can I do?”

“Whatever you need to,” you said, breaking the hug. “I know it isn’t easy. It’s a hard decision. I’ve been doing it alone now for almost three years. If you don’t want to be involved, Javi, I completely understand.”

“No, no.” he said. “I… if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

“Javi-”

“No questions. My decision, I’m here for you two. Emotionally, financially, whatever you need from me.” “That’s asking too much, just maybe give it some time to think about-”

“I’ve been thinking about you every day for three years, Y/N. I am absolutely sure about my decision.”

“Mama,” Grant asked, turning around to look at the two of you standing above him. “Play?”

Grant approached Javi cautiously, holding a G.I. Joe figurine in his hand. He offered the toy to his father. “Play?” he asked once again. Javier looked to you; you shook your head in approval.

The sight of your son and his father playing together was enough to make you happy for a lifetime.

Javier was cautious. His experience with children was basically non existent. “Who is he?” he asked in his softest voice he could think of. “Joe! This Jack, Jasmine, Kevin, Gumball and…”

Javi listened as his son named off all of his action figures along with some stuffed animals strewn across the room.

You slowly crept to your bedroom where you kept your camera hidden away. Adjusting the settings, you hid behind the couch to get a perfect angle of this moment you never wanted to forget.

Snap!

Both of the boys turned around to see you standing behind the couch. “No picture!” Grant complained, stomping his tiny fist on the ground. A smile spread to Javi’s lips as he saw his son squirm.

“I’m sorry baby. Keep playing.” you said, placing the camera on a desk in the living room.

“Mommy take pictures a lot.” Grant sighed, picking up another action figure and kept on playing.

This was definitely going on your wall.

all posts ​ @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise

[am-i-interrupting]

Alastor ideal type in partner headcanons? I've been thinking about this and your one of the few writers I see that write alastor as close to canonly possible as can be and I really appreciate that in your writing so I knew I'd get a pretty close and accurate answer on this😭 hopefully you can get to this when it's okay for you but when you do thank you so much!!❤️

Aw, thank you, I’m so flattered!

Now, we know Alastor is for sure in the ace spectrum in canon and potentially on the aro spectrum as well and as someone who is on both of those, I have thoughts.

I think that Alastor would fall under the aegosexual category and be slightly sexually repulsed. He’s not completely thrown off by the idea of sex but I don’t feel like he would be very comfortable viewing himself in a sexual light and even others.

As someone who relates to Alastor on several levels, I feel like he would have a similar view to sex as I do. Kind of the opposite of projection here because I do think it makes sense for his character. Where it’s less about the act of getting yourself or someone off and not even about pleasure but about the ability to cause a reaction from someone that not everyone can cause. That will obviously play into any sex life you may have and thus you’d have to be okay with him not viewing you sexually even within a sexual context and more like a test subject.

Then his possible aromantic orientation. Whoever would be with him would have to be okay with him saying the words “I love you” and not being able to describe what that means. Once again, less projection and more if I feel like this thing about me also fits him. The lines between romantic and platonic in society are so rigid and the things he feels fluctuate. He knows he loves you differently than say Niffty, Rosie, or Charlie but it wouldn’t necessarily be romantic, more so bordering on it, if that makes since. Again, hard to describe.

Now in terms of a partner, some absolute musts:

Must be willing to cause chaos.

Must test his limits/challenge him occasionally.

Must have a similar moral code to his own.

Must be able to find entertainment outside of modern technology.

Must be alright with not knowing everything about him.

Some preferences:

Enjoy jazz.

Knows how to dance or be willing to learn.

Join him in hunts/killings.

Be strong headed.

Have traditional manners.

I think generally he would like someone who is very stubborn which will both provide him with entertainment and cause him to become his own. To be challenged in how to do things or how he sees things.

He’d need someone who would be willing to indulge and encourage his behavior. But perhaps due to that stubbornness be able to also reel him in.

Alastor has been described several times I believe as having a moral code to his killings. Obviously this will be a strong moral code as it tells him who to kill. This is not something he would budge on and if you do not agree with his moral code you can say goodbye to being romantic with him.

Being able to find entertainment outside modern technology isn’t as hard as some people believe. Whatever happened between him and Vox was at least the final nail in the coffin for him about modern technology and it would not be allowed in any of his spaces or when he’s trying to be intimate with you in any form being emotionally or physically.

He will not tell you everything. Some things (like his emotions towards you) he cannot describe. Other things (like his deal) he will refuse to elaborate on if you even know at all. The same is true for you. He knows when to not push. He’s good at reading people but he also trusts you to come to him if you need help and he expects you to return the sentiment.

[mia-martian]

I wanna bring to the Death Note and Lawlight community a take that I have and rarely ever hear about.

A lot of people seem to look at or even just remember L as an unfeeling apathetic weirdo- and this is coming from people who haven't seen the anime in years or just see a couple scenes of him. And that's a fair enough assessment to make- dude is detached in his own way.

But it's really ironic when he's put next to Light Yagami, a character who I believe literally doesn't know how to love.

Not in the aro/ace way- dude doesn't even know how to love anyone platonically. He doesn't love his family, he doesn't love his friends or his romantic partners, he doesn't love anyone. If he shows any small signs of it, I am not inclined to believe it.

When his father died and he cried, it looked like the most half-assed performance to me. As if he used it to framework and test how he would act for L's death. (Edit: Apparently Soichiro's death was after L's i think? I remembered that incorrectly. But at the same time, I think he copy-pasted his fake reaction to L's death and reused it for his dad. Point is, I don't believe he even grieves sincerely.)

And I don't think the Death Note itself exclusively did this to him. Sure, it influenced him a LOT. When you find yourself in a place of power, your brain chemistry LITERALLY changes. Of course the ability to kill with almost no consequence would influence him.

But even in the Yostuba amnesia arc, even when he's doe-eyed and defending the innocent and fighting with L about the people who died for the Kira case, I am not convinced that it's the truth. I am not convinced that he isn't just saying what he was taught to say and believe by his father. I am not convinced he fully believes his own words, even subconsciously. At least in the context of the anime and manga, he is the most insincere character I have ever seen. It's nothing but bullshit coming out of his mouth.

I'd argue the Death Note only gave him a feeling of authority that caused the mask to slip off. I'd argue that he was always this lost and was just waiting for an excuse to cut to the chase on 'justice'. To build his guillotine and finally start collecting the heads he wants to put on his mantle. He is the unfeeling, apathetic and cold freak that I've seen people assume L is. All the Death Note did was foster it.

Because while L tries to be a character for the necessary evil and gray area (i.e. Lind L. Tailor), Light is just evil. He is blindly writing names and filling pages the moment he realizes that the notebook works. He is placing a bomb in his house without thinking of the risks he'd place on his kid sister or his well-meaning parents. He is manipulating women and using them like tools. I simply cannot imagine a reality in canon where Light Yagami can love.

And obviously my point isn't to say "Lawlight wouldn't work in canon !! You can't ship them !!" The canon of a story isn't some kind of divine set of rules, literally have all the fun you want. Canon isn't real. This story isn't real. Literally make it all up and turn Light Yagami into a pining, simping mess. If anything, that's justice.

But it's interesting to think about. I used to ship Lawlight so intensely. But then years later, when I rewatched the anime, my feelings changed drastically.

Now I can't fucking stand Light Yagami, and I wish the same fate he places on all his victims. As ironic as that is.

If he was a real human being, and I had the notebook in my hands, his name would be one of the first that I would write. Call that a sign of my bias.

Now I can't imagine a single scenario where Light loves L.

I mean, I think L definitely would have feelings for Light. L has shown that he has the capability to care, despite how the writers tact on things like in the How to Read manga where his line about Light being his first ever friend could've been a 'coldly thought-out strategy.' (Eye roll)

Even in the scenario that L doesn't truly consider Light a friend, he shows that he cares for people even a little bit. When a member of the task force decides to quit and leave, L says he appreciates him and makes sure he and his family are well paid and protected. When he witnesses a member die, he's shaking in fear. He is capable of being vulnerable and caring for others. He just doesn't do it often. It's half a choice to protect himself, and half his unmasked autism. (And bro IS autistic i don't gotta defend that point)

L is capable of loving Light if L allowed himself to. If that "you're my first friend" line is sincere, he's opened his heart up to a monster. And the unfortunate thing is that there is no possible way Light is reciprocating. Light is the unfeeling, lying monster, uncapable of even concieving what love feels like. Light doesn't care for other people. His motives might be driven by a sense of justice, but that is just the flavor. That's just the color that his true intentions are thinly painted over. The true intention of power. The only thing that brings him joy is the authority he believes he has over humanity.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

Regarding #465: No, there shouldn’t be more fat people shown in star trek/starfleet. Showing fat ppl in the future isn’t body positivity. Currently, the food industry is screwing us and we are fat due to that mainly. Fat ppl exist only in rich capitalist countries with the social fabric in tatters. We are massively struggling with anxiety and stress and using screen n food addiction as a coping mechanism, making us more fat. In the future, we would have overcome all these problems. Truly nutritious food isn’t addictive and it’s impossible to grow fat on it. Ppl would be healthy, happy and have a ‘range’ of body types sure, but fatness is not a body type.

I am so upset about this that I ended up blocking yesterday's queue cold-turkey.

People should have a range of body types just as long as it's not fat? This is not future body positivity, this is plain and simple fatphobia and I don't need any of your transparent disgust of fat people in my blog, implying that all fat people are, either or in combination, poor, miserable, mentally struggling, etc.

It's also rather telling that you couldn't conceive that some people love being fat, and don't want to lose weight even if they could.

If in the future we will have good food and no capitalism and good enough medicine to eradicate obesity-related issues like bad cholesterol and such (crew forgive my ignorance on the matter), fat people would prosper because doctors and fatphobes would lose the ace card you played here that they love so much: that fatness is in itself a threatening medical condition and, depending on which is more convenient, the root cause or the consequence of countless medical problems that at long turn out to be not really related to body weight at all.

Also, who the fuck cares what really happens in the 23rd century? We won't be here to see what the ideal body type will be by that point. We are speaking representation in the now, not what if scenarios. Fat people don't owe people like you anything because they never let us have anything. They certainly don't owe you the comfort of living in your eugenic-flavored fantasy where nobody has a body shape that upsets you. There are more overweight, fat, and downright obese people than there are thin in this world, and the film industry should fucking grow a spine for once and actually reflect that. Yes, we shouldn't encourage bad eating habits, but that's not what the original confession was talking about. It was about how it's great to see a beautiful, healthy woman whose body weight doesn't take anything from that beauty and that healthiness, and that it would be even greater to see more of those type of characters. You having an issue with that speaks a lot about yourself, and the absolutely disgusting levels of fatphobia in the world.

Fat people deserve and belong in the camera, and in the future. Accept us or turn your screen off.

Footnote that the absolute clown levels it take to say that healthy food cannot make you fat, newsflash asshole, the healthiest, most organic food you can think of will make you fat if you eat it too much too often.

[physalian]

I think being an ace writer lets me write sex and romance with less of my own biases/wants/what-I-think-is-sexy getting in the way, to better incorporate these scenes into the story as a method of plot and character development instead of just gratuitous, among other things. In the same way being atheist lets me write real and fantasy religions without my own beliefs interfering, because I can respect religion academically and objectively, as a tool, not a given.

I write my characters in tons of situations that I myself would never enjoy, anything from bathing together or having kinks or even making out. I know why people enjoy these things and I’ve read enough romances to know how to write the proper buildup and the right tone to strike and all that jazz and I do enjoy reading romance.

There’s absolutely other factors at play here and I can’t speak from experience for a lot of the situations I put my characters into (nor do I write smut, I’ve tried, I’m bad at it because I’m ace) but I’ll beta read sex scenes for original authors, especially cis/het authors, and while “writing to satisfy yourself or your readers” is different than straight up just writing a story that includes romance, I seem to keep finding myself stuck with a constant stream of author wish fulfilment, a lot of newbie original authors seem… narrow-minded when it comes to sex.

Like they can only imagine what they find kinky or romantic or sexy, like the subtext is saying “this is sexy because I think it’s sexy and if you don’t think it’s sexy something’s wrong with you”. Which isn’t at all a problem in fanfic for whatever reason (probably because these authors also tend to think sex=romance thus smut=character development).

So I have a character with a medical kink, for example. I haven’t had readers gushing over him or that scene (haven’t had that many readers period, mind you), but I haven’t had any complaints, either. Heck, my protagonist in ENNS is a frustrated virgin in a vampire romance who at one point realizes “hm yeah I definitely don’t hate teeth anymore pls do it again” meanwhile I’m sitting back with my metaphorical coffee going “you have fun now, enjoy”. Maybe because it’s not just an 111k word fantasy smutfest but his self-discovery is part of his arc.

But I think the difference is, either in just skill at my craft or being on the outside looking in, is that I think “what would he think is sexy? And how would I go about writing that?” vs “what do I think is sexy? And how do I go about contorting my characters to fit that?” I spend the time making sure he’s in character, it makes sense for his character, and that he’s acting authentically.

Or at the very least, I think aceness (and possibly aro-ness we are undecided in that department) gives you a baseline of 0, clean slate, not that aces can’t enjoy the idea of sex, the idea is that sexuality is self-contained. But when your whole life is sex-favorable/allonormative I think it puts blinders up.

Or, I just keep reading heterosexual romances that leave something to be desired. Not just beta-reading, the romances in like, Maas books, for example—no kinkier or more wish-fulfilling than a fanfic with the same tags, but there’s something so cheap and artificial about those sex scenes. The first time I read… I think it was book 3 or 4 of the TOG series and I realized just how much sex there was, I legit got bored and scanned ahead until I could get back to the story—and I have sat through fanfics that surpass 100k words with as much smut and I am fine and entertained. Is it because she’s not a great author, or because she’s a cis/het author with blinders up, or some mix between the two? I have enjoyed poorly written but sincerely written smut in fanfic, so it can’t be that, either. If this was a science experiment and I’m controlling for all other variables except the sexuality of the authors and/or characters, I’d have my answer.

That’s not at all to say allonormative authors cannot write beautiful romances and hot sex scenes. There is only one (1) romantic scene in Maas's books that I used to go back specifically to reread, and it was just two characters finally tossing decorum aside to make out. She lost me completely after that.

Just in my experience, inexeperienced allonormative authors vs queer of any kind tend to be worse at making it compelling and sincere and my theory is that they can’t escape their own ideas of what sexiness is, because they've never had to, and can't get in the minds of characters and readers who don’t all think like they do.

—

Interested in a queer vampire fantasy novel? Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is out now!

[wttcsms]

listen, i'm not normally into concepts involving two potential love interests, but i cannot stop thinking about tennis prodigy!reader; even though you're making a name for yourself, between travel costs, paying your agent, and also footing the bill for your father's gambling habit, by the time you get to your fair share of all your hard work you get nothing but loose change. the professional sport industry is a small circle, and pro tennis is its own incredibly tiny niche. people talk, and everyone knows about the current state of your finances; hell, most of them are in the same boat too. but this makes you a very viable target for someone who knows how to make cash quick.

sports betting. you familiar with it? of course you would be; your dad spends most of your winnings betting on other athletes. when you receive an anonymous text asking you if you want to make triple the prize money this tournament is offering, you almost think it's spam mail. almost — but again, the tennis world is small. you've heard rumors of an unknown man, known only to the players as 'The Ace', who pays players good money to throw their game. you like to play things safe, though. getting caught purposely throwing a game to manipulate sports betting? you could be banned for life. normally, you would decline.

but just a few days prior, you're approached by character 1; he's a special agent, and he's asking for your help so he can finally catch this mysterious Ace. he won't tell you all the details; that's one annoying thing about him (besides the way he's always teasing you, always giving you stupid nicknames, always wanting to jump in to come 'to your rescue' when he thinks a guy is being too handsy with you...), but apparently, shady sports betting isn't the only way Ace makes his money. he's considered a king in the criminal underground + this special agent is hellbent on catching him for any and all crimes he can. your mission? go undercover, get some money, but more importantly, get some intel. become so good at manipulating the game that the Ace will have no choice but to meet with you in person.

and you do capture the Ace's attention. there's something about you that character 2 is suspicious of, and he's keeping a close eye on you... it's one thing for this stoic, scarily quiet, intimidating man to get his personal driver to take you to his estate after every one of your games so he can "discuss" it with you and "personally reward" you for a job well done. it's another thing entirely when it evolves from awkward conversation in his office to a private dinner in his massive dining room. he's keeping you close — but hopefully not too close, because your special agent is listening in on the micro device he always tells you to tag underneath your clothes.

[tloupride]

TLOU Queer Fic Recs

Happy Pride! Admin Zoo here, with some of my favourite queer fics, please share your own recs, I'm looking for more to read!

🏳️‍🌈 🩷💜💙 🖤🩶🤍💜 🏳️‍⚧️

Late October, 2022 (Or The Last Time Joel Saw Bill and Frank alive), 5k, T, by Springandastorm, @spr1ngandastorm

Joel and Tess and Bill and Frank hang out and find community in each other. This devastated me in the best way, I have not stopped thinking about it since I read it. Beautiful and bittersweet and hopeful all in one.

trace my fingers across your frozen veneer, 2k, E, by fromthewhales @deervsheadlights

Bi Joel gets pegged by Tess, as he deserves. Like all the best explicit fics, this is a character study and really gets into their relationship. 10/10 no notes.

some sort of private conversation, 2k, M, by fromthewhales. @deervsheadlights

Bi Joel tries to have a hookup on the road but Ellie cannot mind her own business. So in character and hilarious, RIP Joel hope the next time works out better for you.

Eternal Love Bullshit, 3k, T, by @sedumlineare

STOP THE PRESS, ASEXUAL JOEL IS ON THE SCENE. Lovely fic where he bumps into an old friend in Jackson (who's a lesbian!), remembers past community, and it's just so sweet. Neare aced this one.

The Trans Joel Universe, series, 27K, G/T, by @sedumlineare

NEARE THIS GIVES ME LIFE. This series has everything: gender euphoria and mentorship, trans Joel through the years, and nonbinary Ellie! Stunning, lovely, special mention to Took a While But I Don't Mind (How Do I Look Now?) which is full of joy and is named after one of my favourite songs

I know, I know the sirens sound/Just before the walls come down, 2k, M, by @donttouchtheneednoggle

Trans Bill AND Frank!!! Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus. This fic left me in a puddle on the floor. Beautiful, stunning, please read it, it's gorgeous.

making yourself up as you go along, 6k, M, by awenswords, @awens-words

Trans Joel!! Really brilliant fic, I especially love the detail given to his smuggling operation and how that doubles up as a way to get hormones. Him trying to come out to Ellie is a particular highlight.

Different Shades, 773, G, by mandocule, @theydjarin

Ellie asks about Bill and Frank, and she and Joel come out. Really sweet little fic with lesbian Ellie and bi Joel doing their best to be #Vulnerable. One of the first queer TLOU fics I read last year!

mellow is the man who knows what he's been missing, 15k, G, by flannelfeelings, @boopernatural

The happy AU where Joel gets to meet JJ and Ellie, Dina, and Jesse have a polyamorous relationship! We love love, we love community.

Watch Me Bleed, series, 24k, M/E, by Fiachra, @consultingzoologist

Apologies for the self-promo, but writing this changed my life due to the people I met as a result. TLOU but Joel is trans, with an Ellie-centric sequel exploring her queer feelings, and a t4t TessJoel installment (that gets the E rating)