IM FINALLY FINISHED WITH THIS OH MY GOD IT TOOK ME LIKE 15 HOURS AND 54 MINUTES. THATS ALMOST 16 HOURS OF WORK BUT ITS WORTH IT FOR MY AMAZING MOOTIE @rizdoodles YOU WONDERFUL OERSON MWAH!!!!! CONGRATS ON 2K YOU DESERVE IT RAAAHHHH!!!!!
Just know istg I'm never drawing jade again HE PISSES ME TF OFF /J atleast pepito looks pretty, that's all that matters in the end <3
As promised, Miss rizy, @rizdoodles here ya go, the Jadito dtiys I promised you weeks back, life has been busy, I could hardly find time to draw, and I almost lost motivation twice, annnddd also did one halfway but hated it and redid it. But today, I finally finished it so hehe, I really hope it was worth the longgg wait…..
“Come along Miss Pépito, let me show you a place where the fireworks are closer and even more beautiful” <- tis the caption of the art…
I really loved drawing this piece and I hope you like it Miss Rizy :333 I don’t expect to win anything cuz my competitors are so strong so just take this as a gift of appreciation for how nice you have been to me… 🥹🥹🥹🥹
a/n: made for @rizdoodles
words: 2579
tags: @oya-oya-okay @itstiredtime @lilstrawberryghost
[choco's there too since chozul is long gone]
Jade was being normal again.
Not “normal” for a Leech twin—she’d long accepted that “normal” with them often meant weird smiles and cryptic comments about poisonous mushrooms—but normal in a way that made her feel like she could breathe easy.
The kind of normal where he gently corrected her knife grip during Culinary Club without teasing her wrist strength. The kind of normal where he explained how a specific mushroom only bloomed after a thunderstorm, and she could actually take notes without second-guessing if it was a trap.
Pépito liked that Jade. He was still a little weird, but he was calm, kind, and—okay, a little too good at explaining things. Like he enjoyed watching her try to figure stuff out. But she appreciated it. Really.
So of course, the very next day, he shoved a whoopee cushion onto her chair and casually acted like nothing had happened.
She’d screamed.
Then punched the table. Then yelled at him. And then—ugh—he had the audacity to look delighted.
“Your reaction was even better than I imagined,” Jade said with a gloved hand over his mouth, not bothering to hide his laughter. “I must admit, I’ve missed hearing your voice at full volume.”
“You are an actual gremlin,” she hissed, cheeks burning. “What’s wrong with you?!”
“Terribly sorry, Pépito. Consider it payback for the time you mistook truffle oil for soy sauce and nearly destroyed the risotto.”
“That was ONE time!”
“It was one time I’ll never forget.”
She groaned, grabbing her apron and storming off to grab ingredients. She could hear him humming behind her, infuriatingly pleased.
But… she didn’t really mind. He hadn’t messed up her dish. He never actually hurt anyone. And honestly, he was one of the few people here who didn’t treat her like some alien transplant from a girl’s school. Even if he had the maturity of a toddler with a chemistry set.
Still, his “normal” and “goblin” phases were exhausting to track.
The next week, he was normal again.
No traps. No weird experiments. No comments about how she'd react if he swapped her sugar with salt. Just quiet companionship in the greenhouse, where he taught her how to pinch off mint leaves without bruising them.
“You’re very good with basil,” he said, tilting his head. “Most people overwater it.”
She shrugged. “I kill succulents. Basil’s just more forgiving.”
He chuckled softly. “Forgiving, yes. But it still needs the right hands. You're more capable than you give yourself credit for, Pépito.”
That time, she didn’t answer. Her ears were hot, but she stared hard at the pot, pretending she didn’t notice.
Then came the prank war.
Apparently, Jade had decided “normal phase” was over.
First, he swapped the labels on her spice jars, so her cupcakes turned into an unexpectedly savory adventure. She nearly made Ace cry with those things.
Then, he planted fake mushrooms in her locker that released a puff of glittery spores when touched. That had been an actual mess.
But he never teased her too much. It was always just enough to fluster her. Just enough to throw her off balance. Just enough to make her throw a spoon at him (which he caught, smugly, every time).
“Why do you keep hanging out with him if he’s so annoying?” Deuce asked one afternoon.
Pépito hesitated.
“Because,” she muttered, staring into her tea, “he’s... not always like that. Sometimes he teaches me cool stuff. And I dunno... he’s one of the only people here who treats me like I belong.”
Deuce blinked. “Oh.”
“…Plus, he helped me hide when I blew up the club blender last month.”
“Ah. There it is.”
Later that week, she caught Jade waiting for her by the courtyard stairs.
No tricks this time. No flour bombs. No weird smile. Just... Jade. With a book under one arm and a relaxed posture, like he belonged to the scenery.
“I brought that field guide you asked about,” he said.
“Oh. Thanks,” she replied, taking it from him.
They walked together toward the greenhouse in silence.
“You haven’t pranked me in two days,” she mumbled.
“Hm. Are you complaining?”
“…No,” she said quickly. “Just... suspicious.”
His lips curved in amusement. “Your guard is impressive.”
“Well, someone made me this way.”
“Fair,” he admitted, chuckling.
It was strange how easy it was, being with him. When he wasn’t being an absolute pain, Jade was… calming. Smart. Kind of cool, if she was honest with herself. A little too good at getting under her skin. But maybe… that’s what made her feel seen.
Still, she had rules.
Rule #1: If Jade started acting like a cartoon villain again, she would retaliate.
Rule #2: Never trust mushrooms in unlabeled jars.
Rule #3: Absolutely never let him see her flustered.
Too bad she was already failing Rule #3.
“Are you cold?” Jade asked casually, though his scarf was already off and halfway around her neck before she could answer.
Pépito froze, staring up at him in horror. “What are you doing?!”
He blinked, amused. “Lending you my scarf. Your hands are shaking.”
“I—They’re not—!” she shoved the scarf back at him. “I’m fine!”
“You’re blushing.”
“No I’m not!”
“You are,” he confirmed, smiling with infuriating calm. “Though I admit, it suits you.”
She yanked her parka hood up, flustered beyond reason, and speed-walked toward the greenhouse. Jade followed at a relaxed pace, hands in his pockets, still smiling.
Lately, he’d been acting weird.
Weirder than usual.
He still helped her in culinary related subjects. Still dropped off interesting books in the greenhouse with little notes in the margins. Still teased her every chance he got.
But now there were… comments. Looks. Casual brushes of fingers when passing tools. Mysterious glances held just a bit too long.
Once, he’d said: “You always look so focused when you’re cooking. It’s charming.”
Another time: “If I were the jealous type, I’d have to eliminate everyone who made you laugh like that.”
WHAT WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT??
“Stop flirting with me,” she had snapped one day.
He only tilted his head and said, “Oh? Was I?”
SHE DIDN’T KNOW. THAT WAS THE WHOLE PROBLEM.
She tried asking Floyd for help.
Big mistake.
“Ne~! So my brother’s flirting with you, huh? About time.”
“What?! NO! That’s not what I—!”
“Do you like him?”
Pépito opened and closed her mouth like a beached fish.
“…I—He’s—He’s Jade. He’s annoying! And smug! And weird!”
Floyd smirked. “That’s not a no.”
She left with a migraine and no answers.
One rainy afternoon, they were assigned greenhouse duty together. Pépito was crouched over a pot of creeping thyme, adjusting the soil, when she felt a presence behind her.
Jade leaned down slowly, his voice soft near her ear.
“You smell like lemon balm.”
She yelped and nearly dropped the whole pot.
“What is wrong with you?!”
“Just a compliment,” he said innocently, though the glint in his eye said otherwise. “I find your presence rather refreshing. Like a sprig of herbs in summer tea.”
“Are you quoting romance novels at me now?!”
He merely smiled, tapping the watering can like a metronome. “Would that work?”
“IT’S NOT WORKING,” she lied.
To be fair, Pépito liked being around him. She liked that he talked to her like she mattered. Liked that he never treated her like some novelty transfer student. Liked that he remembered what she liked without being weird about it.
He made her laugh. He always noticed when she was frustrated and subtly distracted her. He knew her coffee order. And he always saved her the last dumpling.
But also.
He was a menace.
A tall, cryptic, eel menace with a voice like honeyed seaweed and a fondness for watching her squirm.
It wasn’t romantic.
Right?
Jade, meanwhile, was having the time of his life.
He had discovered something even more delightful than rare fungi or new seafood dishes: the way Pépito’s eyes widened in horror when he said anything remotely flirty.
He wasn’t sure when it had started. Somewhere between her storming out of Culinary Club in a flurry of expletives and her proudly presenting him with a hand-picked jar of pickled daikon she made herself.
Now, he couldn’t stop smiling around her. He lingered after meetings. Found excuses to “casually” bring her favorite pastries. Teased her because he liked her—the real her, chaotic and shy and fiercely stubborn.
He knew she didn’t know. Not really.
But maybe that made it more fun.
A few days later, they sat on a bench after club duty, watching the moon through the glass ceiling.
“You’re not going to pull a prank on me right now, are you?” she asked suspiciously.
“No,” he said, amused. “No tricks today.”
“Hmm.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
He laughed. “Would it be so terrible if I were simply enjoying your company?”
“…Yes,” she muttered. “Because then I wouldn’t know what to do with that.”
He turned his head, watching her curiously. “Do you often doubt sincerity?”
“From you? Yes.”
He went quiet. For once, not teasing. Not smiling. Just watching her with that sharp, unreadable look.
“I mean—" she backpedaled. “Not—like, all the time. You’re just hard to read. You mess with people for fun!”
He nodded. “I do.”
She turned to look at him.
And he smiled. A different one, this time. Smaller. Almost… nervous?
“But I don’t lie about the things that matter,” he said.
“…Oh.”
“Just something to remember,” he added lightly, stretching. “Now, shall we head back?”
“Y-Yeah. Sure.”
She followed, heart pounding and very, very confused.
Later, lying awake in bed, Pépito replayed everything he’d said. Every glance. Every offhand comment.
“You smell like lemon balm.”
“Would that work?”
“I don’t lie about the things that matter.”
And worst of all: She liked it. She liked him.
It hit her all at once.
She buried her face in her pillow.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “I’m doomed.”
They were dating now.
Pépito was 97.67% sure of that.
Jade had asked, after a particularly quiet afternoon tending to some temperamental herbs in the greenhouse. There had been no teasing that day—just soft conversation, a rare moment of peace, and then a simple question:
“Would you like to make this official?”
And because she liked him—liked his weird jokes, liked his calm voice, liked that he remembered her favorite drinks and knew when to back off—she’d said yes.
Immediately followed by spiraling into a catastrophic panic spiral the second she got back to her dorm.
“Okay,” she whispered to her reflection. “Okay. Okay. You have a boyfriend now. A boyfriend. This is fine.”
Her reflection looked dubious.
She gripped the sink tighter. “You’ve got this. Just… be cool. Be normal. Do romantic stuff. That’s what couples do, right? It’s not that hard.”
It was that hard.
The next day, Jade found her outside the cafeteria with two ice cream cups and a determined look on her face.
“Hi,” she said. “I got you something.”
He blinked, clearly amused. “What a surprise. Thank you.”
They sat on the nearest bench. For once, it was a normal moment. Quiet. Sweet. Nothing going wrong.
And then it hit her—romance! She was supposed to do something romantic!
Panic surged. Her brain short-circuited.
Without thinking, she dramatically scooped a spoonful of her ice cream and shoved it straight into her mouth, fast and wide-eyed, like she was trying to mimic a love confession in anime form.
She immediately regretted everything.
It hit the back of her throat like a frozen brick.
She choked.
Hard.
“Pépito?” Jade’s eyes widened. “Are you—”
She wheezed, face red, waving him off as she coughed violently into her elbow. A little ice cream dribbled down her chin. Jade instinctively moved to pat her back, clearly trying not to laugh.
Once she stopped hacking up her dignity, she looked up, mortified.
“I thought I was supposed to—y’know—do something romantic,” she mumbled, voice hoarse. “I panicked.”
Jade covered his mouth, shoulders shaking.
He was laughing.
“Glad to know I have that effect on you,” he said between chuckles.
“Shut up,” she groaned. “I’m never trying again.”
“Please do. This is the most fun I’ve had all week.”
Things only got worse.
Because then came the Headbutt Incident™.
It was a quiet evening. They were alone again, just the two of them—Pépito replanting succulents that had been knocked over during Ace’s failed flirtation attempt (don’t ask), and Jade silently reading from a book about edible underwater plants.
It was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
Which meant her brain had space to think.
Which meant she thought: I should kiss him.
A normal couple thing. Right? That’s what people did! They kissed their boyfriends!
She could do that!
...Right?
She spent the next ten minutes working herself up. Her heart pounded. Her palms got sweaty. She tried imagining it over and over. Lean in. Tilt head. Quick peck. Easy.
Except it wasn’t easy. Her legs were jelly. Her stomach was eating itself.
Jade looked up just as she shot to her feet.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes,” she said loudly. “Totally. Fine. Don’t move.”
He didn’t. But his brow arched slightly.
She took a deep breath, tilted her head back to gain momentum, and launched forward—
—straight into his forehead.
CRACK.
“AGH—?!”
The world blurred. Jade staggered backward, eyes wide.
Pépito reeled back, horrified, realizing she hadn’t kissed him.
She’d headbutted him.
He swayed once. Then crumpled.
She. Had. Knocked. Him. Out.
He woke up five minutes later with a cold compress and a panicking Pépito hovering over him, rambling like her life depended on it.
“I didn’t mean to! I just—I was trying to—oh my god, are you okay?! Please don’t die, Azul’s gonna kill me—”
Jade groaned softly, blinking as her face came into view.
“Did you… try to kiss me?”
She immediately turned bright red. “NO—well—YES?! I mean—I was going to, but not like that!!”
A beat.
Then Jade laughed. Long. Loud. Unapologetic.
He laughed so hard he had to sit up slowly and lean against the table for balance.
“I swear,” he gasped. “You’re going to kill me. And I’ll die happy.”
“DO NOT BRING THIS UP AGAIN.”
“Oh no,” he said, grinning. “I’m never letting this go.”
From then on, every time she got flustered, Jade would simply rub his forehead and say, “Careful now. I’m still recovering.”
She threw a spoon at him every time.
He caught it. Every time.
In public, things were different.
Not that they weren’t still them, but Pépito struggled. Couples at NRC were all weird PDA monsters. Hands everywhere. Gross kissing in hallways. Blegh.
Pépito wanted none of that.
She sat an extra inch away during lunch. Refused to hold hands in the hall. Froze anytime Jade so much as brushed her arm.
“Affection in public makes me want to crawl into a locker and never come out,” she explained one day.
Jade only smiled. “Understood.”
He didn’t press it.
But she still caught him looking at her sometimes. Not teasing. Not smug.
Just… warm.
And when they were alone, he’d still bring her tea. Still tie her apron behind her back. Still catch her in soft silences when she didn’t know what to say.
She wasn’t good at this.
But Jade never asked her to be.
He just laughed when she tried, picked her up when she flopped, and loved her exactly as she was.Which made everything—awkward, chaotic, her—feel okay.
