#but if you can i do think it makes a french curve a bit redundant

[historybounding]

In Nicole Rudolph’s q&a video with Abby and Morgan, someone asks the question “what sewing tool do you think is the most overrated” or something like that anyway I thought that was a very interesting and excellent question so I am asking it here. They said French curve, which I second, I also will add rotary cutter and cutting board.

[lovemecharlie]

The wives vs. Dom Charlie. A series.

Bastion

A business trip to Wakanda and Nigeria had Erik caught up and unavailable for two entire weeks. He’d call from time to time but only for a minute or two to speak with one wife or another. This left Bastion to pout, left to deal with the havoc of her hormones without him.

Over the course of her day, she’d already masturbated twice in various public places but somehow she was still sexually frustrated. Walking into the house, her initial thought was run to the vibrator. She planned to go to her room to smackdown her cooch for the third time when a lightbulb went off in her mind. She found Charlie eating in the kitchen instead.

“Bast, hey,” Charlie greeted, her mouth full of homemade pizza fries. "Want some," Charlie offered.

“Hey. No... I actually came looking for you here because.. I miss Daddy," Bast paused. Charlie's heart broke for the girl. "..And I’m horny," Bast continued, "..But I can’t have him. So what’s up with King Jade,” Bastion asked, seemingly out of left field. It caught Charlie off guard. She paused, her cheesy french fry hanging in the air, nearly forgotten.

“You for real,” Charlie's brows arched in surprise. “Hm. Well, King Jade is always ready when you are. Let’s take it to my room though.. You go up and I’ll be there in a minute.” Watching Bastion exit, she put her fries in aluminum foil to be reheated later. A wicked smile crept onto her face as she grabbed a cold bottle of water. This is the first time I’m domming Bastion, she thought incredulously, propping herself up against the counter. Thoughts of Bastion’s brattiness, submissiveness, and level of kink flowed through her mind as she considered what she could do to and for the bratty baby. What do I wanna do, Charlie asked herself. King Jade responded. I wanna turn her into a desperate mess. I wanna make her forget Erik for just a short while. I want her to drip for the next week every time she thinks of what I did to that pussy. I'm gonna fuck her till she forgets her own damn name.

Water in hand, Charlie knew for a fact she'd need it. Jade might take a while. Ascending the stairs, she sauntered toward the room, her fingertips gently brushing the wall and increasing in sensitivity. Every step she took, she allowed herself to fall deeper and deeper into a spell of lust. By the time she entered her bedroom and spotted Bastion on the bed.. fully clothed.. she was pissed. Jade was ready to leap out. Charlie exhaled.

“Two things, doll,” Charlie stated closing the door gently behind herself. She felt like if she didn't move slowly, she'd attack the poor sub and they still needed to talk first. “First of all, you don't wear clothes on my bed. Okay? Take them off.. Now.” Immediately, Bastion sat up and began stripping off her green, white, and black striped twin set. She sat in her black lace Agent Provacature lingerie proudly. It was beautiful and sexy, but it was still clothing. Charlie took another breath to calm the King. Easy girl, she whispered inaudibly, without moving her lips. "Two. Make no mistake, Bastion, I’m perfectly aware that I’m not nor can I replace our beloved Daddy, but for the next hour,” Charlie said setting the timer on her phone, “I want you to submit completely to me. For the next hour, there is no Charlie. You will address me as King Jade. Do you understand?”

“Yes, King Jade,” Bastion replied. Charlie grinned, absolutely floored. It was the most submissive she'd ever seen Bastion. It was way too easy, Charlie thought. She was suspicious because she'd expected a struggle. This was the brat of the house.

“You acting different, what's up," Charlie asked, looking around the room before advancing forward to stand in front of a confused Bastion. There was a peice of lint caught in her hair that Charlie gently removed, smoothing her strands back into position. "I'm not used to your cute ass being so submissive, it's weird." Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"I'm bratty with men, but I'm more submissive with women," Bastion clarified looking up into Charlie's shiny dark eyes.

“So there's nothing negative going on with you right now and you're in a healthy mindstate,” Charlie asked only partially joking. "Yessss," Bastion grinned, humored. She squeeked when Charlie snatched her by the throat, the gold rings of her right hand pressing into the skin of her neck.

"Good," Charlie breathed digging her left hand into the front of Bastion's black thong. "Green light then." Her fingertips collected the beaded wetness from Bastion's bald Godiva peach, pushing it back inside roughly with two fingers going downwards, straight back, and curving upward. Bastion huffed as she felt Charlie's soft lips press into hers. Charlie's tongue invaded her mouth before taking hers captive with a suction and a nibble. The second Bastion began to release a soft moan, she was shoved backward into the bed.

"Take that cute black lace set off if you want to keep it." Bastion struggled to reach and remove each article, her movement and breathing limited.

"You wanna cum, I'm a help you cum." Charlie's grip on her throat tightened eliciting a gasp as she felt along Bastions front wall, pressing on her g-spot in a quick, consistent motion. "You feel that in your bladder?.. I know," Charlie smiled into Bastion's mouth, moving around to her ear. “But what took you so long to come to me?”

Bastion shivered, the gust of air tickling the skin of her ear while her hips moved, her entire body tuned into the pressure building down below. Her strong heartbeat could be felt at the base of her neck. Charlie eased up not wanting to choke her out and Bastion let out a deep gasp followed by deep exhales.

“Words, girl. Breathe on your own time,” Charlie warned, her attention set on getting the Godiva peach to squirt out more juice. Charlie's quick fingers were finally starting to drip how she wanted. She wanted Bastion to be extra wet for what she had planned. "Answer me!"

A light slap brought words from Bastion's mouth. "What," she breathed, her stomach tensing and releasing. She was so focused on her nut, she hadn't been listening. Charlie repeated the slap twice more on her other cheek, the second a bit harder. "Did you just what me?" The next slap was rough, but Bastion ate it like nothing. Charlie gripped her chin. "I said what took you so long to.. what the fuck," Charlie gasped looking down to watch the spurt of liquid spring off of her fingers. It caught her directly on the lip and on the arm and she kept up her motion, bringing out another high spurt. "Ohh you like getting slapped like that huh," Charlie said slapping her a few more times. Slapping and fingering, who'd have thought. Every time she whipped her fingers out of Bastion's peach, Bastion would squirt and Charlie would jam those same fingers right back in. "I SAID what took you so long to come see me," Charlie repeated. Bastion picked up her head and dropped it again to stare at the ceiling, panting.

"Oh you just mute now, huh?" Charlie's brows rose. King Jade wasn't having it. "We'll make you talk. Spread your pussy open and hold it open," Charlie commanded slapping her clit. "Don't move,” she said once Bastion was in position. Walking to her drawer, she pulled out her black strap-on. It was long and wide and she strapped it on, coating and stroking the shaft with her favorite lube. Had it been inside Erik? No. It was entirely too big for him. Charlie had been waiting on an opportunity to use it. Bastion was lying on her back already wet, her bald Godiva pussy lips glistening with the essence of her arousal. The lube was redundant, but thanks to Erik, Charlie was used to working with extra EXTRA slip. Something about the glide made things more pleasant for all parties.

“Hold it.. there you go,” Charlie repeated staring at Bastion's wet fingers and the two holes lined up in front of her. She held Bastion by the kneecaps as she slid deep into her peach, gliding out and diving back in. The sound of macaroni stirring mixed with Bastion's uneven grunts and random high pitched cries bounced off of the walls. I bet the anyone here can hear me effing this girl up, Charlie thought cheering herself on, throwing her hips at an angle.

"Oh shit.. Oh shit," Bastion bleated. Finally. She'd been stuck on silent for way too long.

"It's about time. You act like my dick giving skills ain't shit and we both know that's a lie."

A string of curse words spilled rhythmically from Bastion's mouth at varying volumes.

"Add a King Jade to that."

"Y-yes, King J-ade..," Bastion struggled.

"Good girl! Hold up, watch this.. You're gonna love this one," Charlie grinned climbing on top of the bed and flipping Bastion's legs back with her. Flexible. Squatting over Bastion's entrance, Charlie lined up her shaft up and dropped down deep into her guts, bouncing up and down.. up and down.. drilling her like a jackhammer.

"Say my name while I drop this dick in you."

"King Jade," Bastion whispered, close to cumming again.

Dropping a leg, Charlie reached down to smack her again. "If you're gonna cum, cum." She refused to stop even when Bastion did cum, her nails scratching at the bed.

"Shit.... Okay... Okay, I'm done," Bastion finally rushed. Charlie's legs were tired.

"Nah, turn over." Pushing Bastion into her stomach, Charlie held her down and plunged back into her peach, thrusting roughly from the back. She wrapped her hand around her hair, pulling it to control the distance of Bastion's movements as the force of her strokes forced Bastion's body to shake, thrown back and forth. Bastion's head was stuck in position.

"Oh.. nfuck," Bastion squeaked. "Okay!.. Okay.."

"You talkative now," Charlie spoke over Bastion's groans. The cold plastic water bottle laid on the bed and Charlie got a wicked idea. Freeing Bastion's head, she picked up the bottle and twisted the cap off, pouring it between Bastion's asscheeks letting it shock her. She jumped from the abrupt temperature change as the cold water dripped down her peach, but Charlie kept pouring until the bottle was empty, her free hand grabbing Bastion's hair again to keep her from running. She smacked the empty bottle against Bastion's ass before throwing it. Bastion sounded like she was done, all cummed out and at this point it was crossing a line from pleasure into torture.

"Don't act like that.You ain't fragile," Charlie teased. "You wanted to cum. I'm a make sure you get all your nuts so take em."

For the next half hour Charlie took her duty seriously, stroking Bastion nonstop in various positions. They were both sweating. Bastion's sex drive was high, but she needed a break. She was begging for a break. Charlie pulled out.

"Suck it dry," she commanded, waiting for Bastion to sit up and get to it. That's exactly what Bastion did, sucking all of the residue from the strap. "You like that, don't you," Charlie teased. Bastion came up off of the fake dick with a pop.

"Yes, King Jade."

Charlie chuckled, "You suck that like I can feel it. I can't feel this shit girl! I'm about to go finish my fries. But I want you to take the blanket and sheets off my bed and wash them since you squirted all over them and they're soaked. Do that and then session over. I'll make you some pasta."

Taking her leave, Charlie was still sticky with peach juice on her. It didn't bother her in the least. While reheating her food, her phone rang and after seeing who it was, she answered excitedly.

"DAKA!!"

"Heyy ChaCha, what's up. Checking on you. How you doing?"

"Better now that you called, how's the center in Lagos? Is it anything like yours?"

"They've got some things in place I want to incorporate at home. They have a banking system and I wanna take that and push it a little further, teach kids to keep the wealth amongst themselves and in their own communities."

"That's a good idea. That means we would also do well with a directory of local black businesses. I can never find a good list so let's make one."

"Pretty and smart. That's why I married you. Look, I gotta go. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I love you too.. And call Bastion, she misses you."

"I know she does. I'll call her in an hour when I leave this next meeting."

"Okay. Good luck in there."

"I don't need luck, I got my wives behind me. Y'all all the luck I need."

"Okay," Charlie laughed, "Bye. Go be great."

He hung up and so did Charlie. So with all the cameras in the house, he didn't know about what she and Bastion just did and as long as she didn't say anything he wouldn't know. Not that Charlie cared. She didn't fear Erik, but him being oblivious made her feel a little sneaky and she loved it.

@killmongersprncss @amethyst1993 @allhailnjadaka @bidibidibombaclaat  @blackpantherismyish @panthergoddessbast @eriknutinthispoosy @thehomierobbstark  @youreadthatright @iamrheaspeaks @wifeyofnjadaka @tgigoldie @hidden-treasures21 @forbeautyandlife @vikkidc @tiava143 @teheeboo @destinio1 @theunsweetenedtruth @leahnicole1219 @whoramilaje @ange-sensuel

[mistawolfie]

Marcus

( As promised, here’s part 1 of Jim and Marcus’ backstory. Enjoy ^^ )

Three gentle knocks, and he knew it was here. His chair groaned loudly in relief as he stood up, his knees slightly giving in to his weight. He shuffled to the curtained door to be greeted by a silhouette of a small womanly figure; upright, confident, relaxed. The figure behind the wood-framed and curtained glass door patiently swayed, her short demeanor fit perfectly with the width of the narrow window. He expected a sort of cold chill, a tinge of malice in the air, but this all seemed so routine, serine. He rested his hand on the cool brass doorknob and pulled the white wooden door open.

“Hello.”

Lime green eyes lit as their gazes met. Her long, wavy black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, the ends curving sharply at the ends, thick and barbed like soft needles. She wore a casual black suit with her white button up opened right above her small breasts, just enough for a brief thought of temptation. Her lips were curved into an all-knowing smile, the gloss of her blushing lips parting slightly as she continued.

“You called, I believe.”

He backed his hooded body inside and let her in. Her low heels clicked like light hooves as it hit the dusty floor. He pulled his hood over his eyes as if to cover his face deeper as he hastily closed the door.

“I was expecting something...flashier,” he audibly mumbled.

“Elaborate entrances aren’t really a thing anymore,” she sighed disappointingly. “We have to abide by the ‘preferable’ style of the ages. An unsaid rule to be honest, but I guess you wouldn’t believe me being so.” She twirled and tugged at her bouncing hair with her thin, delicately sharp fingers. “But you don’t have to.”

Her eyes followed a fly making small circles near the entrance and buzzing into the room next door. It rested on a paper plate of dried brown liquid and a stale slice of partially eaten pizza. The medium-sized pizza box sitting in the middle of a cheap plastic table was partially open, showing that only one slice was missing, and the rest were in a similar state.

“So, how long will it take?” He tried to suppress his voice to sound calm, but it was obvious, even to him, that he sounded impatient.

“As long as you have the equivalent item of exchange, I can do it right here, right now.”

His heart leaped. No, you knew this, you know this, he told himself. He felt his throat dry and sour, the stickiness in his mouth making it hard for him to form words. He tried to fill his lungs as much as possible, but only felt he barely inhaled a quarter of its capacity. You’re going to say it, you know what it is. Now, with authority!

“I...think I do.” Dammit!

“Wonderful,” she grinned, her orange-tinted teeth gleefully gleamed. With a playful pirouette, her low ponytail undid themselves and were now freely flowing waves of thick, shadowy water. They bounced up and down as she skipped effortlessly up the stairs with the rhythmical clip-clop-clip-clop of her heels. He was about to tell her that he didn’t say her where Jim’s room was, but he figured that that would be redundant. She probably knows. He slowly heaved heavy knees up the stairs. He watched each of the scraped paint on the steps form from a typical shoe print into large hoof marks.

“Oh, where are my manners!” She dramatically cried from the top of the stairs. She tossed her head from the end of the staircase, her head tilted to face his with a hand over her forehead. “Pray tell, where art thou friend?”

“On my right, the last door down the hall,” he mumbled. The little devil flipped her hand into a thankful salute and disappeared behind the wall. “And don’t run,” he muttered under his breath.

The hall was empty and quiet as he left it. Floating dust glimmering in the sunbeams reminded him of the time he watched the livestream of the ocean depths. Marine snow, he remembered Jim saying. Even dead fish have beautiful names after they decay. The two sat in front of Marcus’ oversized laptop screen and watched the video streams from the Rover while the marine biologists gleefully tossed around trivia about frilled sharks and dumbo octopus. The tiny smile on Jim’s face was probably the happiest he had ever seen his friend be.

“Marcus, my boy,” her voice rang, “reminiscing sweet memories takes far too much time. Your friend awaits.” She hummed a throaty giggle. “Or should I say, you are?”

Marcus’ eyes glared at the open door at the end of the hall from behind his hood, saying nothing. He picked up his pace and entered the gaping void of Jim’s bedroom. He felt for the switch, but thought against it and strode towards the animated shape of the small, now slightly horned, woman. She stood over Jim’s body lying on his dark blue and white striped bed, stroking his black, matted hair lovingly. The line of light leaking from between the closed curtains traced her cheeks and curved, rosy lips.

“Such a pitiful, loved boy,” her lips purred. He said nothing and thinned his eyes at Jim. Her lime green iris pierced into his forest ones, her knowing smile unmoving. “All of this for your own sake.”

Her legs were now shaped into a goat’s leg, coarse hair long and frizzed with large hooves glistening in the limited light. Each step she took were like heavy hammers on the carpeted floor. She walked to the middle of the room and traced her thin fingers on the bottom lip of the noose. Marcus watched as the rope gently swayed back and forth, the stain on the floor probably still damp and Jim’s pants still crumpled on top of it. He told himself that he left it because the knots were too tight, the ceiling was too high, but it was just a reminder to himself. He peeled off the green hood from his head and shook his dirty blonde bangs out of his face. They felt oily and heavy, and he remembered that he hasn’t bathed in days. He took a deep breath and stepped towards her.

“I’m ready.”

---

“H-hey Jim, aren’t you always hot wearing th-that t-turtleneck all the t-time?”

The beating summer sun was quickly melting their Extreme-Orange-Pulp-and-Creme-Swirl-of-the-Century-Hyperboost-Juicicle. Jim slurped loudly as he tried to catch all the escaping liquids from making a mess on his hands while Emile was dripping a small orange puddle of Extreme-Orange-Pulp-and-Creme-Swirl-of-the-Century-Hyperboost-Juicicle on the ground between his legs while timidly licking the tip of the icicle.

“Mm, never really thought about it,” he thoughtfully slurped. “I guess I’m kinda cold all the time...because I’m such a chill dude.” He winked and finger-gunned the skinny priest. Emile replied with an awkward chuckle and sadly looked at his half-melted icicle.

“I-I don’t think I can finish th-this,” Emile sighed.

“I’ll take it if you want,” Jim offered while sliding the remaining bits into his mouth.

“Y-you sure? I-it’s mostly melted because I eat s-so s-slow.”

“Bah, it’s fine! Fork over your Orange-Swirl-Centurion-Jucicle!”

“I-It’s e-Extreme-Orange-Pulp-and...”

“Oh hey Emile.”

The priest lifted his head to be greeted by a lean, built man with a crooked grin. Besides him was a woman with a shoulder-length bob and a beaming smile.

“Long time no see little man,” she said while rolling her sleeves. “Whatcha doin?”

“W-we just saw each other in class yesterday Lulu...a-and hi Mitch,” he nervously grinned. “I-I’m just hanging out with Jim here.” Mitch looked at his girlfriend’s lanky classmate with one raised confused brow.

“Jim…?”

“Y-yeah, I don’t th-think you guys met on campus because we’re in different buildings.” Emile scooted his body toward Jim and guided his palm toward the black-haired man. “Th-this is Jim. J-Jim, th-these are my classmates from anth-anthropology.”

“Howdy my dudes,” he grinned. Lulu looked in his direction and tilted her head in a greeting manner. Mitch glanced his way and looked back at Emile with a concerned expression. He opened his mouth to say something when Lulu tugged at his sleeves.

“We actually have to go now,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I want us to get some good seats for the movie.”

“O-oh, yeah, right. I-I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

“Right, later.” Mitch scratched the back of his neck and hastily waved good-bye to the pair while Lulu pulled his other hand.

“Have fun!” Jim shouted at their backs as they disappeared into the crowds of moviegoers and outlet shoppers. “Cute pair,” he commented as Emile shyly passed the nearly gone icicle.

“S-Sorry.”

“No worries, it’s still delicious. Go wash your hands in the bathroom or something, I’ll watch your stuff.”

The skinny priest hastily jogged towards the men’s room between boutiques behind their bench. Jim leaned back onto the steel bench and absently sucked on the stick which still somewhat tasted like Extreme-Orange-Pulp-and-Creme-Swirl-of-the-Century-Hyperboost-Juicicle. He gently touched his neck and felt a wave of nausea layer his mind and body in a thin, familiar veil. He flinched his hand away and took a deep breath to rid the sensation. The stick dropped from his mouth, bounced off the seat of the bench between his thighs and settled onto the ground in front of him. Sweat beaded from his face and saliva dripped from the corners of his lip. What the hell…?

The nausea slowly subsided as he tried to adjust his eyesight. His eyes followed the stick to find a pair of dirty sneakers standing in front of him. Faded jeans fell to the heels and were frilled at the end. He followed up the green torso of the hoodie to find a familiar dirty blond-headed face with the usual bored frown looking down at him.

---

“So, you know that I know what you want, but I need to hear it from your lips to make it official.” Baphomet dragged her French nails across the rim of Jim’s bed as she paced across his body, as if making an invisible line between him and Marcus. “So I simply ask you, my dear boy Marcus; what do you wish for, and what is your offer in exchange?” Her heavy hooves thumped rhythmically while she locked her eyes on Marcus, her pupils now unsettling, goat-like horizontal slits.

“I…,” Marcus swallowed and wet his mouth once more, “I want him...Jim, to have a long, happy and life filled with love.”

“Vague. Boring.”

“I offer you, or him, my emotions of love and care...if, you can call that an offering.” Her curved lips split into a toothy grin as she stopped pacing and stepped towards Marcus.

“That’s such a dangerous offer you make, my boy,” her voice was velvet and thick with a delighted undertone, her suited torso leaning forwards and looking up at the taller human as her chin barely touched his chest. “You know we like to take as much advantages as we can.”

“So it counts?”

“But of course. I’m also obligated to tell you that your other emotions will be enhanced due to the absence of the ones you’ve offered, in this case greed and lust. You will never be able to love, and you can only pretend to care and never feel true joy.”

“If Jim can have what I can give, then so be it.”

“Gallant boy.” Baphomet flicked the tip of his nose and twirled around to face the body. “You are one lucky dead man, aren’t you?” She giggled with her shoulders and hopped onto the foot of the bed. Her large hooves barely made the sheets rustle. She closed her eyes and made simple gestures with her fingers while whispering incantations under her breath. Marcus stood over Jim’s body, staring into his closed eyes. He knelt and reached for his hand, cold and rigid, and held it in his as if to warm it.

“Marine snow,” he whispered, gently squeezing his stiff fingers. “You compared yourself to fucking dead fish flakes.” That’s not what he meant to say. The days passed like a blur, he wasn’t sure if it flew or crawled. Maybe the world was moving faster than him, or maybe he has slowed. He didn’t remember if he ate or shit. All he knew was that Jim has stopped, and so has he.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, but nothing sounded right. Marcus pressed his lips on Jim’s forehead, the cool flesh on his skin imprinting a cold spot like a bruise. The color was gone from Jim’s cheeks, and heavy bags under his eyes sunk his thin eyes deep into the hollows of his sockets. The blond stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers, and he slowly leaned in.

---

Marcus first noticed Jim always sitting in the back corner of the classroom. He never realized that they had quite a few classes together because he was so quiet. Not like a fearful mouse holding its breath as to not attract any attention from predators, but more like a ghost apologizing for his existence. It was as if being invisible was the closest he could do to compensate, and he was very good at it.

He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned for this lonely classmate, but he decided to sit next to him one day and tried to start a conversation. The green hooded freshman was startled and could only mumble out broken sentences that even he could barely hear. Marcus only caught the constant “sorry” between shallow breaths.

“Hey man, it’s cool. We got a whole semester ahead of us to talk more.”

Jim hardly nodded and continued to sit like a statue. His breathing was so quiet that Marcus was worried that he was going to fade away without him noticing at all. After class, Jim would quietly and swiftly float away before Marcus could catch him. This continued for weeks: Marcus tries to make small talk, Jim evades him like a mist. Other students didn’t seem to acknowledge his existence either. Marcus even considered that maybe Jim was a citizen of the paranormal realm, and somehow he has gained the ability to see ghosts (although that was quickly debunked during the occasional roll call).

The day they finally interacted was when they happened to enter the same apartment complex at the same time.

“I...didn’t know that we lived in the same building,” Marcus awkwardly chuckled. He saw Jim’s body squeeze inward, trying to get smaller.

“……...yeah…..”

“What floor?” Jim dug his chin into his chest, obviously hesitant to answer. Marcus scratched his head and searched for a different topic to talk about. Maybe all of this chasing is like...stalking? He’s clearly avoiding me for whatever reason, I should probably sto-

“...3rd…..room 305...” Marcus’ forest eyes widened.

“Uh, coincidence, I’m 405.”

“………..yeah….”

“You...wanna do homework together?”

“…...ok.”

Although he was shocked that Jim would comply so easily since he had taken every opportunity to avoid interaction, Marcus happily led his hooded classmate to his room. The two stood silently in the brightly lit elevator, listening to the buzzing hum of the old motors and the loud DING of floor numbers lighting up. The door clumsily slid open as they reached the 4th floor, and Marcus was quietly relieved that Jim followed him out. His hooded head was still looking down at the dirty blue carpet when he shuffled out, his long black bangs hiding his expression. Marcus dug into his pant pockets for his keys while leading Jim down the dimly lit dorm halls. The lingering smell of old weed and unshowered bodies made the air so thick and musky one could even taste the sour odor. Marcus unlocked the old, shriveled door and pushed it open with his weight.

“Welcome to my…,” he paused as he looked at the piles of unwashed clothes, plastic bags filled with garbage, unopened school supplies and partially-eaten food, “...dwelling.” But even seeing this, Jim’s brown eyes barely faltered as he let himself inside with a very small “excuse me.���

Marcus dug open a place for them to sit on the old sofa facing his 24” screen laptop resting on a small plastic table. He still debated whether this was a good idea or not, but his guest didn’t seem to show any signs of protest so far. In fact, Jim just sat quietly and shallow-breathed as usual with his backpack on his lap. Marcus invited him to sit around the table and they worked on their assignments in silence while a video with a comedian angrily commenting on the absurdities of the current state of their government played in the background. Marcus snickered every now and then at the jokes, but Jim was unfazed and never looked up from his notes. His letters were small and scrawled, barely legible to the untrained eye. Marcus wondered if he was really reading or if he was just staring at the scribbles to pass the time.

Jim’s phone vibrated. He flinched and quickly dug around the side pockets of his huge backpack. He wasn’t exactly a small man, but Marcus thought that if Jim kept up his curled stature, he could potentially contort himself inside. Jim pulled out an old flip phone, opened the screen and sighed in relief. He turned it off with a soft beep, eyed Marcus warily and looked back down at his notebook.

“….sorry...my…...alarm went off….,” he mumbled as he apologetically stuffed the phone in his front hoodie pocket. Marcus looked at the clock and cocked his head questioningly.

“At 7:30 in the evening?” Jim timidly nodded. “For what?”

“….um….a...a livestream….I….watch…..” His voice trailed off as he noticed that he was shamefully exposing himself. “………..i….it’s a weird….hobby…...” Marcus reached for his laptop and moved the pointer to the web bar.

“Give me the name of the site.” Jim raised his head, his brown eyes wide with surprise. Marcus’ heart leaped.

“you...you don’t have to...do that…” Jim’s head lowered.

“I wanna watch too.”

“….no you don’t….” His head lowered with his voice.

“Yes I do.” The dirty blond eyed Jim’s paper. “I’ll help you with problem 5-a if you tell me.” Jim looked confused at the remark, but then looked at his paper and stifled a snort at this. Marcus didn’t miss seeing the corner of his thin lips curl a touch. Jim gently moved Marcus’ hand aside and typed. A deep ocean blue screen appeared with a large black rectangular box in the middle. White bubbles floated and popped in the middle of the black screen with the words ‘Diving to the Depths...’ fading in and out of the screen.

“It….it might take a while…,” Jim mumbled.

“Well, I’ll help you with 5-a while we’re waiting.”

It didn’t take long for the two to get immersed to the underwater world and forgetting to finish the rest of their assignment, but Marcus thought it was worth it as he saw Jim’s dry, dark brown eyes glint as he listened to Dr. Valor and Dr. Simone having a heated debate about which is cuter, the flapjack octopus or the bobtail squid.

“I vote octopus,” Marcus chuckled. Jim slightly opened his mouth, paused, and looked down at the lighted keyboards.

“….I do too,” he mumbled.

---

Jim’s sunken eyes shot open. His chest heaved as he choked in air into his collapsed lungs, his dry mouth flapping open and shut like a fish out of water, his nails digging into Marcus’ hands trying to lift himself from an unseen cliff. The body twitched and shook, the rigor mortis making him awkwardly flap and bounce on his bed. He looked up at Marcus with panicked fear and rage.

“What’s happening?!” Marcus shouted at Baphomet who was still reciting incantations under her breath.

“Finalizing our contract,” she simply answered. “You should tell him what you can now, he’s gonna come out a clean slate once I’m done.”

“What?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, confessions, deeply held secrets, you know, whatever. It’s not like it’s going to matter on the long run, but maybe one less regret might make this easier for you. Just a suggestion.”

Marcus winced as Jim’s nails dug deeper into his hand and broke his skin. Blood pooled and seeped into his nails as he continued to twitch and flap painfully, his mouth now letting out whistles of dry windpipes wanting to scream.

“This really doesn’t look or feel like the right moment to confess anything!”

“It’s your only chance, now chop-chop.”

“Fine! I…,” Marcus winced and gritted his teeth as Jim’s nails dug for his bones. His brown eyes never left his forest ones, now watery with tears. “I think I loved, love...I love you. I never thought I would ever tell you this, but-”

“FUCK YOU.”

A hoarse, enraged whisper screamed into Marcus.

“HOW DARE YOU.” Jim’s body shook the bed like an earthquake. Baphomet was floating now, eyes closed and continuously chanting. Marcus shook his head in confusion.

“J-Jim, wait, I, I just-” He cried as he felt a bone in his hand crack.

“FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU.” Baphomet clapped her hands gleefully with an orange-tinted smile splitting her face.

“Confessional is closed boys, say good-bye now!”

“Wait-” Jim pulled Marcus toward his face and glared into his tearful panicked forest eyes with blazing rage.

“I HOPE I WATCH YOU BURN.”

Marcus felt Jim’s nails leave his broken hand. His body crumbled into the bed and lay like a marionette snipped of its strings. Dust floated and surrounded the three bodies as Baphomet squeaked a sneeze, her hooves landing on the floor like low, distant thunder.

“Oof, better open the window or something honey, these are some potent bunnies.”