#going to try to have pages out by the end of this month!!!!

[cozycottagetarot]

You & Your Person: Relationship Dynamics

This Reading Covers the relationship dynamics in general and how you and your person show up in the relationship.

This Extended Reading Covers:

The Strengths and The Roles You Both Play

The Challenges and The Roles You Both Play

Bonus Question

Notes:

I loosely used the tarot in this one. I considered the traditional meanings but also factored in what I got from the imagery along with what my intuition was telling me.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

Dividers From X

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Group 1

The Relationship In General

Cards: King of Cups, Five of Wands, Ten of Wands, The Thief, The Assassin

This isn't the best opening line, but this relationship has a dynamic that very easily has the potential to become toxic, however it does not mean it will be. Now stay with me! I've been struggling with how to do this reading but the energy I’m picking up on has been very adamant about me not trying to be all rainbows and sunshine’s with this pile. This relationship is heavy. It is mentally taxing. You’ve both got your shadow attributes and they clash. But at the same time, there is so much love here… it’s almost as if there’s so much love that you end up drowning in it.

You show up in this relationship as The Thief. You’re the sweet talker, I was going to say spontaneous one (that could still be true) but I'm getting that that's not exactly it. You’re the sweet talker here. The Thief has their own agenda and has a streak of luck. I can’t say you’re the dominant one because it feels like two dominant people together, but you’re the outspoken one who kind of calls the shots while your person has a more passive (aggressive) type of dominance. It’s more like you call the shots until your person has had enough of it and then suddenly you don’t.

The Assassin represents your person. They may not be the best at maintaining relationships but they know they have to put in the effort and they do so. I think this is why the relationship works. Yes, you two may clash and the relationship takes a lot of work, but because you’re both able to and willing to put in that work, you’re able to return to that state of love or emotional balance and make it work.

To summarize, you and your person both have strong personalities. These personalities can clash, but when they do you two work it out you come back together closer. There’s also a thick tension here. I think it's a very fiery build-up between you two... If people were watching you two they’d question if you’re going to try to kill each other or have a rough night in the bedroom when you go home.

If you've made it this far, thank you! ♡ If you'd like to see the extended version which includes the strengths and challenges of the relationship as well as bonus question specific to each group, you can check out my Patreon here.

Group 2

The Relationship In General

Cards: Page of Cups, King of Wands, Queen of Swords, The Sailor, The Poet

Your relationship with your person seems like one that is delicate. There's so much potential surrounding what can come of it and I think both you and your person are aware of that and put in the work. There's a levelheaded flexibility here. You're both clear and concise on what you want (seeing where the relationship goes) and because of this you two can take the necessary actions to cultivate this relationship and all the possibilities of what you two can become.

Here you show up as the sailor. I don’t really think you’re the type of person to be tied down easily. It's like yes you'd like to call someone to call home, but you're not calling just anyone you get along with home. Maybe that’s why the relationship seems delicate... because this person is the one person you’d lower your anchor for. I think you bring the adventure to the relationship and not just in the sense of let's try a new restaurant, but as in let's move to a different country for a month! You've got a restless energy. Always on the go. Always curious about what lies beyond. I think it adds an extra weight or importance that you’d settle down with them. Not for but with.

Your person shows up as the poet. They bring the charm and the romance making the relationship seem like the best kind of love story. They're very open and adaptable. For some of you this could be a long distance relationship or there is a distance of some kind between you and your person (it could be like a two hour drive, different work shifts etc)... so whenever you two are able to spend time together your person does their best to make sure there's some wow factor when you two are together. They just have such a beautiful energy I think you'll always find yourself enamored by them.

If you've made it this far, thank you! ♡ If you'd like to see the extended version which includes the strengths and challenges of the relationship as well as bonus question specific to each group, you can check out my Patreon here.

Group 3

The Relationship In General

Cards: Page of Swords, Ten of Pentacles, Three of Wands, The Aspirant, The Sentinel

I feel like you have this relationship with your person locked down! You and your person are all about expanding your material wealth or physical aspects of your relationship (home, car, trips, finances, etc). For some of you, you two could even be in some business endeavor together, but at the very least you two are always about maintaining the stability of your relationship and making sure the relationship is without want. You will always be looking to improve and I feel like you two may end up experimenting a lot within your relationship with different plans for your combined futures.

You show up in the relationship as The Aspirant. You’re the one who has the grand vision for the relationship in a way. You see the final destinations in all the endeavors you and your partner dream up together. You have the keys to making the relationship work and making sure you attain the success you both seek. I’m also hearing generational wealth may be of importance for you as well.

Your person shows up as The Sentinel. They guard these ideas of yours, they guard the relationship and they guard the stability. The aspirant doesn’t see obstacles, only the goal which can end up setting the back but the sentinel does see obstacles and overcomes them and that’s exactly how you two work together as a unit.

If you've made it this far, thank you! ♡ If you'd like to see the extended version which includes the strengths and challenges of the relationship as well as bonus question specific to each group, you can check out my Patreon here.

[wafflefries13]

Double Trouble (Floyd x Reader)

Summary: A certain pair of twins are found roaming around NRC campus. No, not those ones. (AKA, Floyd and your kids come visit from the future.)

AN: This was supposed to be a cute short fic. Now it's 20 pages and three weeks later.

Warnings: Maybe a little ooc near the end. Kids and mentions of how they're made.

It was a pretty quiet day at NRC, which meant (Y/N) was waiting with bated breath for something to go terribly wrong. 

“You worry too much!” Grim complained, hanging off her shoulder as they walked along the main thoroughfare past the Great Seven statues. “We finally have a day off! No work from Crowley, no problems with the dorms, no weird stuff popping out. And! Sam had that sale on canned tuna!” Grim pawed at the can he was holding, trying to rip open the pull tab on top. With a frustrated huff, he reluctantly handed it over.  

(Y/N) quickly popped open the can and handed it back to him. Grim gave a small cry of delight as he buried his face in the shredded tuna. “I know, I know,” She said, absentmindedly scratching him behind the ears. “I think I’m just not used to it anymore. It feels like something should happen, you know? Like, they say right before lightning strikes you can feel the static in the air. And be honest, when was the last time we had a real day off?” 

Grim looked up, licking his lips. “Well, last month we - no, wait, that’s when the fairies stole that magestone and had that fashion show. Oh, what about the weekend when we - no, that was Camp Vargas, huh? Uhh, Port Fest was really fun!” 

“We were working at the food stalls the whole time.” (Y/N) grinned at her feline-type companion. “Or at least I was.” 

Grim frowned. “Hey! Taste testing is an important part of selling food! You have to make sure your product is up to snuff!” 

(Y/N) giggled and took the empty can from Grim, putting it in the plastic bag that held the other odds and ends they had picked up from the Mystery Shop. “Of course, we couldn't have done it without you.” She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting to look up at the sky as if to double check it wasn’t about to start falling. “I just think that-” 

“Mama!” 

Both (Y/N) and Grim jumped, the latter falling off the former’s shoulder with a yelp to float in the air. (Y/N) blinked the white sunspots out of her vision looking around for where the exclamation had come from. No sooner had she started her search than a tiny force threw itself against her legs nearly knocking her over. (Y/N) looked down, seeing a wailing child bury his head into her hip, arms clasped around her in an iron-clad grip. 

“Whoa, hey, hey!” (Y/N) said, trying to get her bearings. She pried the child’s grip away just enough for her to kneel down so they could be closer to eye level. The boy had a cherubic face, big eyes and big cheeks, with big tears rolling down them. He had teal-colored (your hair texture) hair. One of his teary eyes was a stormy gray while the other was (your eye color). A set of sharp almost shark-like teeth bit at his quivering bottom lip. 

‘Do Jade and Floyd have a younger brother or something?’ (Y/N) thought. 

She patted the boy's hair down and whipped the tears off his cheeks. He was taking big gulping breaths, trying to calm himself down. “Hey, it’s okay,” She said in what she hoped was a calming voice. “You’re okay. Did you get lost? This can be a big scary place, huh?” 

The boy took another shuddering breath and flung himself in (Y/N)’s arms. She fell back, sitting roughly, as the boy buried his face in her shoulder. 

“Geez, who the heck is this crybaby?” Grim muttered, floating nearby with his paws on his hips. 

“Grim, don’t be rude!” 

“He’s the one who ran into you! That’s rude!” Grim floated a little closer, cocking his head to look at the boy. “You know, he kinda looks like-” 

“Ah!” (Y/N) yelped, pain suddenly rushing through her hand. She had been patting the boy’s hair, trying to help him calm down, when he suddenly turned his head and bit down hard. Jerking her hand back, (Y/N) could see a fresh set of indents forming a perfect semi-circle around the joint of her thumb, two of the points already beading with blood. 

Grim immediately jumped to the defense. “Hey! What’s the big idea?” 

The boy let out another wail, picking himself up and dashing away before (Y/N) could take another breath. “Hey, wait!” She called after him. “It’s okay! Come back!” 

“Okay?!” Grim said as incredulously as he could manage. “He bit you! Look, you’re bleeding!” 

(Y/N) whipped away the blood from her hand on her skirt. “He’s clearly just scared, Grim. It was probably just an instinct. Come on, we better find him before he gets into any trouble.” 

Ignoring Grim’s grumblings, (Y/N) jogged off in the direction the boy had gone. She wondered why a kid so young would be alone in a place like this. He was, what, maybe seven or eight? Not to mention obviously terrified. And… Wait, had he called her mama? (Y/N) faltered a little when she remembered that. Maybe it was like when a kid called someone they were close to auntie or big sister? But why mama? 

“Say that again and I’ll bite your fingers off!” 

(Y/N) was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a child’s voice yelling some… pretty violent threats. She couldn’t imagine the small crying boy from before saying something like that. Was there another kid wandering campus? Was it a family visit day or something? 

(Y/N) turned the corner to see the boy facing off against a group of students. Or, no, it wasn’t the same boy. Sure, he had the same round face, teal hair, and mismatched eyes, but he held himself in a completely different way. Instead of curling in on himself with fear, his shoulders were back, chin up in defiance, his sharp teeth pulled into a scowl, tiny fists balled with rage instead of anxiety. 

(Y/N)  didn’t want to believe it, but the students looked like they were getting ready to square up with a kid. Channeling into her de facto role of campus peacekeeper, she put herself between the kid and the students, saying, “Hey! What’s going on here?” 

One of them jabbed his finger at the boy. “This kid came out of nowhere and started insulting us! Saying our magic was weak!” 

“It is!” The boy said, peering around (Y/N)’s legs. “My papa’s the strongest guy at Night Raven College ever! He could take you all on at once! Tell ‘em, Mama!” 

“Mama?” Another one of the students said. “Prefect, you know this kid?” 

“Uh, not exactly, it’s kind of complicated. Look, he’s just a kid, he didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just all cool down for a second okay?” 

Another student stepped forward, punching his fist into his open hand. “I think he needs to learn some manners. And if his ‘mama’ isn’t going to teach them to him, we will.” 

Instinct kicked in and (Y/N) scooped the boy up in her arms. “Now, just hang on a second, you’re not really going to fight a kid, are you?” 

“Yeah, I can take all you sea cucumbers on!” The boy shouted from her arms. “You look like a sea cucumber too, and their face is their butt!” 

“That’s it!” 

As the student advanced (Y/N) took a step back. Her arms full, her body reacted without thinking about it. Her leg flew up in a high kick, landing squarely in the approaching student’s face. His face bore a perfect shoe print as the young boy in her arms started cackling. (Y/N) took advantage of the momentary stunning and booked it out of there. 

“Grim! Cover!” She yelled. Grim blew a spray of blue flames at the pursuing students, giving the new trio an opportunity to escape relatively unscathed. 

(Y/N) sprinted through the halls, the boy clutched in her arms, Grim flying close behind them. Dodging into an empty classroom, (Y/N) took deep breaths as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. The boy leapt out of her arms, clapping his hands. 

“That was so cool!” He exclaimed. “Uncle Grim was all like ‘Foosh!’ And Mama kicked like ‘bam!’ He had a footprint on his face! Did you see that, Mama? Did you see?” 

(Y/N) held her hand up, trying to order her thoughts for a second before speaking to the overly excited boy. “I saw, I saw. Did you really just go up and start insulting those guys? They have to be twice your age, you could have gotten hurt!” 

The boy pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I know. I’m not supposed to start arguing with people. I’m sorry.” He recited the apology as if he had done it plenty of times before. 

(Y/N) knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I just don’t want you getting hurt, okay? I know you’re probably really tough but you can’t blame me for worrying, you know?” 

The boy grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. He threw himself into (Y/N)’s arms in a big hug. “I know. That’s why I have Papa and Mama! Nothing bad happens when you’re around! Oh!” He gasped as if suddenly remembering something. “Mama, have you seen Cas anywhere? We got split up! I need to be there to fight anyone who tries to mess with him!” 

(Y/N) rubbed his hair. “What did we just say about fighting?” 

Meanwhile, at the Monstro Lounge, Floyd was having one of his rough days. First, he had to break up a fight between a bunch of customers in the Lounge, which might have been fine normally, except they all cowered and begged forgiveness as soon as he got there, so we didn’t even get a chance to squeeze anyone. Then, Azul had started bothering him for his grades in his history of magic class. Like, yeah, it was easy and he could finish the homework no problem, but it was so boring! Why should he have to put effort into something like that, anyway? He was a great mage. Practical exams were a breeze. Why did the paper assignments even matter? Third, Jade kept talking his ear off about some rare new mushroom someone had sent him. Something about how it could let you see into the future, or bring stuff back from the past, or something. Floyd sort of zoned out in the middle of his brother’s explanation. 

And, worst of all, he hadn’t seen his dear Shrimpy all day! Usually, on days off, he’d go track her down, making himself home at Ramshackle dorm, looming over her while she tried to study in the library until she finally paid attention to him and they could go do something fun, or dragging her to his basketball practice so he could show off. But he’d been stuck inside all day. He was starting to get stir crazy. 

All he could think about was wrapping his arms around her soft, plush form and squeezing as hard as he could, until she gasped and made those cute sounds he liked. 

Floyd giggled, kicking his feet. Maybe he could sneak out? Yeah, he could be sneaky when he wanted to! It couldn’t be that hard, right? He was already out of the Monstro Lounge, past the main entrance of the dorm. All he needed to do was go down the tunnel to the mirror chamber and-

“Well, hello there, Floyd.” Busted. Floyd grimaced, turning around to see Jade smiling at him, holding a huge stack of paperwork. “I was looking for you. Professor Trien gave me the assignments you’ve missed. He asked me to make sure you got these done before your next class. You don’t have anything else to do today, right?” 

Floyd groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Jade, I don’t want to do that! What’s even the point, huh? What’s some paper going to prove about casting spells?” 

Jade gave a faux sympathetic look that Floyd could spot from 10 miles away. “Oh? So you did have plans today? Such a shame that you’ll have to cancel them, then.” 

Floyd grit his teeth as Jade shoved the stack of papers into his arms. He briefly considered dropping them all and throwing a punch, if he didn’t know for a fact that Jade was one of the only people who could actually match him blow for blow. Floyd could count on one hand the amount of times they had physically fought with each other, but man, did no one ever suspect that the more calm and collected twin could be just as brutal. 

Jade took Floyd by the elbow, not so gently leading him back into the main dorm, when Floyd froze, ears perking up at a sound. 

Jade frowned. “Floyd, I said-” 

“Shh!” He interrupted, putting a finger to his lips. Floyd cocked his head to the side, trying to hear that sound again. Suddenly, he shoved the papers back at Jade, bounding down the hall and taking the stairs two at a time down to the lobby. 

The main lobby of the Octavinelle dorm took the same decor ques as the Monstro Lounge, or maybe it was the other way around. The lobby was seemingly empty, but Floyd was able to narrow in to the sound he had made out earlier, the hiccuping sound of a kid trying very hard not to cry. 

Floyd stalked over to one of the couches, peering over. A small boy was huddled against the back of the couch, trying his hardest to make himself disappear. 

“Hey, there, Guppy,” Floyd said, leaning over the back of the couch. “What’s with the sad eyes?”

Most children might have been frightened by the sight of a shark-toothed, manic eyed mer looming over them, the moody lighting on the lobby casting haunting shadows over his face. But the boy looked relieved, jumping on and over the couch to latch himself onto Floyd. 

“Papa!” He wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got lost and I couldn’t find Argo, and then I found Mama, but I had big feelings and I bit her! I know I’m not supposed to bite when I have big feelings, but I forgot and it was an accident! And then I ran away from Mama, and I know I shouldn’t have, and I still can’t find Argo, and-and-and-!” 

Before he could say anything else, and before he had the chance to start crying again, Floyd scooped him up under the arms and brought him high in the air. “Wow, you have strong looking teeth!” He praised. “I bet you  can bite real hard! Show me, show me!” Floyd flashed his own sharp-toothed grin, exaggerating gnashing down. The boy sniffled weekly before giving a half-smile. “Hey, come on, you know what I mean. We want a full smile, right, Guppy?” Floyd tossed the boy into the air, catching him and swinging him around so his legs flew out behind him. Despite himself, the boy started giggling. Floyd smiled, booping him on the nose. “There’s those teeth. Look how strong you are!” 

The boy covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle his giggling. He made claws with his hands, baring his teeth. “Grr!” 

Floyd gasped dramatically. “Oh no! This isn’t a guppy at all! It’s a shark! Jade, help me!” Floyd theatrically collapsed to the floor, making sure to keep the boy at arms length above him so he didn’t get hurt. The boy’s mood had fully switched now, laughing and holding his arms out so he could pretend to fly. 

Jade stood in the doorway, smiling softly at his brother’s antics. But, more pressingly, wondering how a small child had found his way into Octavinelle in the first place. And, possibly, why he happened to have a certain family resemblance? 

“Pardon me,” Jade said, stepping forward. “I couldn’t help hear you say ‘Papa?’” 

“And then, I swung on this rope over the river, and it was probably, like a hundred feet high! And I let go and did a huge cannonball and it made the biggest splash ever!” The boy, (Y/N) had found out was named Argonaut, was regaling her and Grim with some pretty fantastical exploits from the last camping  trip he and his brother Caspian had taken with their Uncle Jade. The name drops were getting much too specific, and (Y/N) still needed to find out what happened to Argo’s twin, so she decided a visit to Octavinelle was the best next thing to do. 

“Wow, you did all that?” She asked. Argo walked beside her, holding her hand and swinging it back and forth in a large arc. “A hundred feet is pretty high. You must be brave.” 

“The bravest!” He said with a big sharp-toothed smile. “Papa said I have to look out for Cas because he gets scared real easy. But he knows tons of stuff and he’s really smart, so that’s okay.” He frowned a little. “I can’t read really good, so Cas helps me out. That’s why we’re a team!” 

“You sound like a very good team. We’ll find him soon, okay?” (Y/N) could tell Argo was worried about his brother. Even if he kept putting on a brave face, being lost in a big, strange place like NRC would put any kid on edge, not to mention that Argo had no idea how he or Cas got there in the first place. 

“My tummy felt bubbly like when I had too much soda that one time and there was a big light and then I was here,” He had said when she asked. 

‘More magic nonsense,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. She decided she was never getting used to it. 

Stepping through the mirror to Octavinelle, the air temperature noticeably dropped at least ten degrees. The light took on the cool blue hue of the water surrounding the glass tunnels around the dorm. Its own little pocket dimension, or however the dorms actually worked, was like living inside an intricate aquarium full of coral reefs, darting fish, and cool temperatures to remind the largely mer-based population of home. 

Stepping into the Mostro Lounge’s lobby, (Y/N) turned to Grim and said, “Okay, you stay here with him. I’m going to try and find-” 

“Argo!” 

“Cas!” 

Argo sprinted away, colliding with his double in the middle of the Lounge floor, almost knocking a poor waiter off his feet. The two boys hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other for years instead of the better part of an hour. (Y/N) felt a pull on her heartstrings at their reunion. 

“Cute,” She muttered. She took a step forward. “I-”

“Shrimpy!” 

Before she could get another word out, (Y/N) was tackled in a bear hug. Floyd pinned her arms to her sides, picking her up and swinging her around. Behind the daze of dizziness and the feeling of her ribs creaking under pressure, she couldn’t help but compare her normal greeting from Floyd to the smaller twin’s reuniting. 

“Urk, hello, Floyd. Good to see you too.” 

“Aww, that’s all you got to say? With our kids here and everything?” 

“With our- what?!” (Y/N) squirmed out of Floyd’s hold and stumbled back. 

Floyd pulled the two careening boys close, beaming like a proud father. “Come on, Shrimpy, you met our little leptocephalus, right? I’m Papa and you’re Mama, right, boys?” 

“Yeah, Mama,” Argo said, “Don’t be silly!” 

“Argo,” Cas muttered, tugging his brother’s sleeve. “Something kinda weird happened, you know? Mama and Papa look different. I think this is where they met.” 

“Yeah, Night Raven College, the best school in the world!” Argo threw his arms up in celebration. He turned back to Floyd and (Y/N). “Cas and I are gonna come here too when we get big. We’re going to be great mages just like Papa and Uncle Jade and Uncle Azul and Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce and Uncle Grim and everyone!” 

“Everyone, huh?” (Y/N) said, starting to feel dizzy. 

Cas pouted at his brother. “That’s not what I mean, Argo.” 

“He’s right!” Grim cut in, paws on his hips with a smug look on his face. “Since I am going to be the world’s greatest mage!” 

Floyd poked Grim’s exposed tummy. “You were last on that list, seal.” 

“Mrow!” Grim started flailing his paws at Floyd, who easily kept him at bay with one long arm pushing his head back. 

“Ah, here’s where you all went.” Jade came up to the group. He was gently cradling one of his terrariums that had a strange-looking purple and silver mushroom with a dripping cap nestled inside. 

“Hi, Uncle Jade!” Argo waved. 

“Hello, nephew.” 

“Is that one of your fancy mushrooms, Uncle Jade?” Cas asked, standing on his tiptoes to try and get a better look. Jade held it down so the twins could see. Cas’s eyes sparkled in fascination while Argo screwed up his face in displeasure. 

“It is,” He said. “And I believe this is why you two came to visit us.” 

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked, picking Grim up to rescue him from Floyd’s teasing. 

Jade turned to his brother. “Floyd, do you recognize this?” 

Floyd stuck his tongue out. “Bleh, yeah. You made that nasty tea from that mushroom the other day and tricked me into drinking it.” 

“Tea?” (Y/N) asked. “Oh, was that the tea in the thermos you had the other day?” She frowned. “You tricked me into drinking it too, Floyd. You said it was tasty and so excited to share it with me, then laughed when I started choking on it because it was so bitter.” 

Floyd had picked the boys up, holding one in each arm. “That’s because it’s funny when it’s you, Shrimpy.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Mmhmm, sure.” 

“I apologize that you were roped into my experiment, (Y/N),” Jade said, not looking or sounding apologetic at all. “But I believe it led to an even more fascinating result than I could have hoped for. This,” He held up the terrarium. “Is an oracleum mycoculous, the fortune-telling mushroom. A very rare specimen a fellow mycologist friend of mine sent me from the Shaftlands. He knew I attended NRC and he asked me to study the effects of magic on this particular species.”

“A fortune-telling mushroom?” (Y/N) asked. “Like, if you cut an apple in half the shape of the seeds can tell your future?” 

“It’s a bit more extreme than that. It’s rumored that when prepared in a certain way, eating an oracleum mycoculous can give one insight into future challenges, typically giving a person a strong intuition into choices they should make in the near future. My colleague had heard rumors that making a tea with the mushroom infused with magic could give the person who drinks it clearer visions of the future. I only intended for Floyd to drink it and record any dreams or premonitions he had, but if you drank it as well, Prefect,” he booped Cas on the nose, who giggled while intently studying the mushroom. “It would seem we were able to bring your future children from your future to our present.” 

(Y/N) gulped hard, finally starting to accept what she had been suspecting this whole time. “Our children?” She squeaked. 

Floyd nuzzled the two boys. “Aww, Shrimpy and I had little guppies!” He smiled wickedly. “How many tries do you think it took before we ended up with these fry?” 

(Y/N) felt her face explode with heat. “Floyd! That - I mean - We’re not even together!” 

“If I may,” Jade said. “The visions associated with the oracleum mycoculous are said to only be possibilities. It shows you options for possible futures depending on certain choices made. So perhaps your boys were drawn from one of these possible futures.” 

(Y/N) felt dizzy at ‘your boys.’ “Okay, wait, hang on-” 

“Mama, are you okay?” Cas asked. He reached out to her. (Y/N) felt a thud in her chest and took him from Floyd. 

“I’m okay, Cas,” She said, trying to hide her anxiety from showing on her face. “Just a little confused, is all. I bet your actual parents are really worried about you.” She turned to Jade. “So, how do we fix this?” 

He smiled slyly. “I have no idea. But wouldn’t it be fascinating to find out?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The Leech family, plus (Y/N) and Grim, although, if the current children were to be believed, (Y/N) would be part of the Leech family in the future, stood in front of an annoyed-looking Professor Crewel in the alchemy classroom. 

“Sorry?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I absolutely do not approve of any relationship of this sort. Any pup of mine could do much better.” 

“Aww, Beakfish,” Floyd pouted. “That’s no way to talk to your future son-in-law, is it?” 

Crewel frowned deeper, his grip tightening on his teaching pointer that often doubled as a whip. He obviously didn’t approve of Floyd commenting on his pseudo-adoption of (Y/N). Although he had been in somewhat of a custody battle with Headmage Crowley in that regard. (Y/N) anticipated a negative reaction from her one father figure, but at least there was a higher chance Professor Crewel would be able to get something done in a timely manner, rather than the crow-coded Headmage dramatically lamenting without much work actually being done. 

(Y/N) frowned, feeling her face heat up again. “Sir, we’re not actually together or anything…” 

Floyd draped himself over her shoulders, trapping her in a backward hug. “Aww, my wifey Shrimpy is so mean to me. Why’s your Mama so mean, guppies?” 

“Mama’s not mean!” Argo defended, taking one of her hands. “Mama’s the nicest! She lets me stay up past bedtime and eat tons of ice cream and watch PG-13 stuff on TV!” 

(Y/N) looked down skeptically. “Do I really do that?” 

He smiled slyly. “If I say it’s in the future then would you?” 

“Nice try.” 

“Grandpa,” Cas said, looking up at Crewel with big puppy eyes. “You’re going to help us get back to Mama and Papa, right?” 

Crewel faltered. Not even he was totally immune to the child’s charms. He crossed his arms, huffing in feigned annoyance. “Well, of course we’ll get them home. But after we’re having a serious conversation about your future prospects, pup.” 

“Like I said, we’re not even together,” (Y/N) protested weakly. 

“Jade,” Crewel said, holding out his hand. “The oracleum mycoculous.” 

Jade clutched the terrarium close to his chest. “But it’s my only sample. I made the other one into the tea that Floyd and (Y/N) drank.” 

Crewel raised an eyebrow. “And we are in this situation because of that. I’ll have to use the mushroom to reverse-engineer an antidote to send these two back.” Jade reluctantly handed the mushroom over. “I’ll start research right away. Hopefully, we’ll get some answers soon. In the meantime, I’ll have to entrust these two in your care.” 

“Not a problem,” (Y/N) said. “You guys can stay at Ramshackle with me and Uncle Grim.” (Y/N) caught herself, wondering when it had become so easy to refer to her friends as ‘Uncle’ as her theoretical future children did. 

“Papa’s gonna come to, right?” Argo said. 

“Absolutely not!” Crewel said, griping the terrarium so tightly (Y/N) was afraid it might break. 

Floyd sniffed. “You’re going to tell me I can’t be with my children? You’re going to separate us?” 

“You’re already on thin ice, don’t push your luck.” 

“I’ll take care of it, Professor,” (Y/N) said before tempers could rise any further. “Thanks for helping us with this.” 

“Of course, dear,” Crewel said, his tone softening. He cast a suspicious eye at Floyd, who was getting a bit too close to the alchemy ingredients along the walls, lifting the boys up high so they could get a better look. “Just let me know if you need any help.” 

In the end, Floyd did end up staying at Ramshackle for the night. (Y/N) could hear the three Leech boys loudly playing in the living room while she tried to make something quick for dinner. Macaroni and cheese would probably work. Kids liked mac and cheese, right? Even if they were mer kids from the future. Or, half mer? (Y/N) wondered how that worked, specifically biologically speaking. Did the boys have mer forms like Floyd and Jade did? Did they look more human in some parts and more eel-like in others? It occurred to her that there was still so much basic mer and beast-man biology she had no idea about. But how do you ask that sort of thing without it being awkward about it?

“Mama!” Cas called, poking his head in the kitchen. “Can Argo and I go pick out our rooms?” 

“I call the big one!” Argo yelled, sprinting past his brother up the stairs. 

“Hey, don’t run inside!” (Y/N) warned. 

“Yeah, and you can’t have the big one,” Cas scolded. “That’s Mama and Papa’s room.” 

(Y/N) gulped. A sly smile stretched over Floyd’s face. “Yeah, where is our room? I should go unpack right?” 

(Y/N) shook her head, trying to get rid of certain thoughts while organizing others. She clapped her hands together. “I know. Why don’t we build a pillow fort in the living room? It’ll be like a big sleepover.” She weakly kicked at Floyd’s shin, more out of show than real malice. “Because that’s all this is.” 

“Like when there was that big storm!” Argo said, racing back down the stairs. “And the lights all went out and we had to stay away from the windows so we made that big tent in the middle of the kitchen!” 

(Y/N) smiled fondly at a memory she hadn’t made yet. “Sure, like that.” 

“I know where the biggest pillows are!” Grim called, racing up the stairs. The boys eagerly followed, making plans for their blanket fort that would stretch all across NRC campus. 

Floyd sighed dramatically, draping his full body weight over (Y/N)’s back as she tried to stir the macaroni and cheese. “How’d we get so lucky, huh?” (Y/N) purposefully ignored him, something that didn’t slip Floyd’s attention. “They’ve got my looks, of course, handsome devils. Hey, do you think we live on land or in the sea? Ooh, or we could do both! Like a summer house! I bet I make a ton of money, I got to take care of you and the guppies, right? Aww, you’d be a cute little house wife. I’ll come home after work and you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’, I can’t do your voice too good, it’s higher than mine, you know? But you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’ and I’ll give you a big hug and say ‘I’m home!’ And I’ll bring you and the kids gifts and we’ll play games after dinner, and when they’re all tuckered out and in bed I’ll pick you up and go to our room and I’ll squeeze you real tight and say-” 

“Floyd!” Floyd jumped at (Y/N)’s sudden exclamation. He felt her body tense and then sag in exhaustion. “Just… You shouldn’t say that kind of stuff, you know?”

Floyd blinked. “Huh? Why not, Shrimpy?” 

“You know why.” She didn’t say anything after that. Floyd let the remark sit. After a minute of silence between them, listening to the cheering and shouting from the boys upstairs, (Y/N) finally sighed and said, “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl. Not when you don’t mean it.” 

Floyd chuckled feebly, his heart not in it. He felt torn between squeezing tighter and getting as far away from here as possible. “How do you know if I mean it or not?” 

“Because you’re always like this. You’ve been like this since we’ve met, you’re like this with everyone. And you know-” She cut herself off. She seemed to be deliberating something serious and finally continued. “And you know how I feel about you.” 

Floyd felt his mouth go dry, his heart started thumping a million miles an hour, and his stomach turned into knots. He had to say something. This was one of those moments where you had to say something, right? Of course he knew how she felt, it was pretty obvious to everyone how she felt, Floyd included. And the garden, especially what had happened at the garden. Or, rather, what hadn’t happened.  

Now, had he taken advantage of that little fact over the school year to wring out some more entertainment out of the magicless Prefect? Well, yes, of course he had. Had he meant to have his own feelings grow into something he couldn’t manage over that time? No, but it had happened anyway, sneaking up on him and socking him in the heart like a mantis shrimp when he least expected it. 

He tried to say it without saying it. He tried to show it without saying it. But why couldn’t he just say it? 

“(Y/N),” Floyd started. “I-” 

There was a crash from the living room, accompanied by a shriek and laughter. 

“Papa!” Cas called. “We need help!” 

Whatever seriousness had come over Floyd’s countenance disappeared in the blink of an eye. His signature wide grin cut across his face. If anyone was paying attention, they would notice his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He quickly reached over (Y/N)’s shoulder and stole a spoon, scooping a chunk of the mac and cheese from the pot to shove into his mouth before dashing out into the living room. 

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at his retreating form before turning back to the stove. As she slid the dish of mac and cheese into the oven to finish cooking, she paused. Had Floyd used her real name? 

“Argo!” Cas whispered in the darkness. 

A large quilt hung over their heads, precariously draped between several chairs. Pillows were stacked on all sides making soft walls and they had layered several duvets and couch cushions below to create an improvised mattress. Mama was on the couch, which served as the left-most barrier of their fort, the quilt draping down close to her head with Uncle Grim curled up on her lap. Papa lay sprawled between Cas and Argo, arms and legs out like a starfish. 

“Argo, are you awake?” Cas asked again. 

He heard his brother mumble something before his head popped up from the other side of their dad, hair flattened against one side of his head and sticking out in every direction on the other. “Wassup?” Argo said sleepily. 

“Did you hear what Mama said with Grandpa Crewel?” Argo rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “She said she wasn’t dating Papa!” 

Argo squinted at his brother in the darkness. “But they are. Mama and Papa said they started dating at Night Raven College.” 

“But they’re not yet. Remember what Uncle Jade said? We’re only from one future. What if Mama and Papa don’t start dating in this future?” 

It took Argo a second to register what Cas was suggesting. His eyes went wide and he gasped loudly. Cas shushed him and Papa mumbled in his sleep, finally turning over on his stomach without waking up. 

“You mean we won’t exist?” Argo whispered, panicked. Cas nodded. “What do we do?” 

Cas smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.” 

The next day, amid a bright blue sky painted with thin wispy clouds, Floyd had insisted on visiting Heartslabyul to “Show off his guppies to his best friend, Goldfishy!” (Y/N) sarcastically predicted that this could only end well. 

The group of five had, as anticipated, balked at the two visitors and their explanation for being there.  But the boys had taken to seeing their pseudo-uncles like, well, like merboys to water. They were outside, near the rose garden maze. Argo was practicing some kind of gymnastics, holding Deuce’s hands tightly, walking up his stomach and chest to flip in a practice summersault. Cas munched happily on a cinnamon roll almost as big as his head while watching in fascination as Ace showed off some card tricks. 

“Have you heard anything from Professor Crewel?” Trey asked, setting down a new plate of danishes on the table.  

“Nothing yet,” (Y/N) said, taking a napkin and wiping off some smeared frosting from Cas’s face. “But I assume something like this will take some time to get right.” 

“And you’re…” Trey waved his hand in a circle. “Doing alright?” 

“I’m… Okay.” (Y/N) looked over at the boys now playing tag. “This isn’t the worst magic thing that’s happened since I’ve been here.” 

“That doesn't mean it makes everything easy,” Riddle commented, gazing over the rim of his tea cup. “Especially given your… choice of partner.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware. Floyd’s not too bad, though. He’s pretty good with kids.”

Riddle huffed. “Considering he basically is one himself I’m not entirely surprised.” 

“Hmm? Are you talking about me, Goldfish?” Floyd said, appearing out of nowhere. He grasped the back of Riddle’s chair, pulling back so Riddle was thrown off balance, throwing his arms out to try and reestablish equilibrium. Riddle scowled, face turning red. He looked like he was going to say something, but bit his tongue as Cas and Argo ran up and started digging into the pastries. “It’s not nice to gossip about people.” 

“Yeah,” Argo said, a mouth full of cherry danish. “It’s impolite. You’re the one telling us about manners all the time.” 

“All the time?” Riddle asked.

“When you come over for dinner!” Cas chimed in. “You come over with Papa cause you work together and we all eat and you help me and Argo study!” Argo stuck out his tongue at the last part. 

Riddle went from red to white. “We work together?” 

“Yeah! You and Papa are best friends!” 

(Y/N) was momentarily worried that Riddle was going to faint. 

“And Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce come over all the time! Uncle Deuce is going to teach me how to ride a blast cycle!” Argo said. 

“We’ll revisit that later,” (Y/N) said, ruffling his hair. 

“Can Uncle Trey still teach me how to bake?” Cas asked. “Uncle Cater was going to help me make a Magicam account to show off the stuff we make! Before Argo eats all of it.” 

“Don’t be so good at baking and I won’t be so good at eating,” Argo replied, stuffing another danish in his mouth before darting off, Cas close behind him. 

“I feel dizzy,” Riddle mumbled. 

“Sounds like you’re keeping busy,” Ace said, watching Floyd duck around the hedges with the twins. 

“When am I not?” (Y/N) said. “But at least it sounds like we’re all still close in the future. I like that.” 

“It sounds like you don’t go home, though,” Cater said, mostly to himself. “Back to your world, I mean.” 

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe home is what you make of it.” 

“Hey, Goldfishy?” 

Riddle growned, shrugging off Floyd’s arm for leaning on him. “What is it, Floyd?” 

Floyd was quiet for a moment, such a rare occurrence that Riddle looked up at him to make sure he had been heard. Floyd was looking out at the rose garden, watching the two children darting around bushes, chasing and being chased by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. (Y/N) stood nearby, watching with a serine look on her face, chiming in every once and a while to make sure the younger boys (and the older ones, too, let’s be honest) were being careful of their surroundings. 

“You know about all that formal romantic stuff right?” Floyd finally asked. 

“I don’t know about ‘romantic.’ What are you getting at?” 

Floyd has a lazy smile on his face. “Do you know how to write a love letter?” 

Riddle felt himself blush. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever exploits you’re up to, romantic or otherwise.” 

“Aw, come on,” Floyd said, poking Riddle’s check, causing Riddle to swat at him like a fly. “(Y/N)’s real nice, you know? She deserves something fancy. And I want-” It was rare that Floyd was at  a loss for words. Riddle looked up at him, seeing determination and focus scrunch his brow as Floyd tried to choose his next words. “I guess I want to prove it to her. That I like her. That I really like her. That I-” Floyd groaned, letting his body go limp and dragging Riddle with him to crash to the lawn. “See? I’m not good at this kind of stuff! Help your best friend out!” 

Riddle yelled, “If you weren’t so cavalier all the time, you’d be able to focus when you had to be serious!” 

Ace stalked through the high hedges of the rose maze, having been called It in the boys’ game of hide-and-seek. “Better watch out,” He called in a sing-song voice. “Uncle Ace is going to find you!” 

“Psst!” Ace whipped around, seeing Cas peeking out from behind a hedge, waving him over. He went over, seeing Cas, Argo, Deuce, and Jade sitting together, huddled under the shade of the maze. Argo had smuggled a few more pastries from breakfast and was tearing them apart to share with the group. 

“Jade?” Ace asked. “What are you doing here?” 

“My dear nephews called me,” He said. 

“Papa let me borrow his phone!” Argo said, holding up the cell, smears of frosting covering the screen. “He doesn't know he let me borrow it, but I’ll give it back before he misses it.” 

Cas put his hands on his hips. Ace had never seen a more serious looking eight-year-old. “That’s still stealing, Argo!” He huffed. “Whatever. We have something super important to talk about!” 

“Yeah!” Argo chimed in. “We need to make sure Mama and Papa kiss!” 

Deuce choked on his cinnamon roll. Jade tilted his head and smiled. 

“Oya?” Jade said. “That’s quite the goal.” 

“We want to get Mama and Papa together!” Cas clarified. “Because they’re in love and stuff! And we want to exist in the future!” 

“I don’t know how much we should be messing with (Y/N)’s love life,” Deuce said. “It feels kind of invasive, you know?” 

“Anyway,” Ace said, crossing his arms. “It’s Floyd’s fault anyway.” 

“Is it?” Jade asked. 

Ace gulped and scooted away a little before continuing. “Well, yeah. Come on, we all know (Y/N) likes Floyd, for some reason, whatever, that’s on her. If Floyd can’t string together 2+2 then that’s on him.” 

“Floyd isn’t exactly subtle with his emotions, either,” Jade said. “He might have issues directing them to a specific conclusion, however.” 

“So, you think he likes (Y/N), too?” Deuce asked. 

“Undeniably.” 

Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, liking is one thing, but we are sort of talking about future marriage and kids here.” He nodded his head at the twins. 

“But Mama and Papa are in love!” Cas insisted. “And the stories Mama tells us says true love conquers all!” 

“That does sound like the sort of sappy thing (Y/N) would say,” Ace relented. 

“I mean,” Deuce said. “We can’t really force anything, right? If they decide they want to get together that’s up to them. But,” He winked at Cas and Argo. “A little push couldn't hurt, right?” 

“Great!” Cas said. “Phase one is complete! Now, we need recruits for phase two!”

It was Day 3 of having Argo and Cas at NRC. (Y/N) was fretting about what to do with the boys while she and Grimm went to class. 

“I can skip class and stay here!” Grim volunteered. 

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N). “Your grades need all the help they can get.” Floyd had offered to spend the day with the boys as well, when he had tried to worm his way into spending another night at Ramshackle. But (Y/N) had insisted he go sleep in his own bed at his own dorm. And it totally had nothing to do with the fact about how her heart had fluttered the morning after his first night there, when he’d woken up with a big yawn, hair a mess, and smiled lazily at her while wishing her a good morning. Nope. Absolutely not. 

“We’ll be okay, Mama!” Cas promised. She had set him and Argo up at the kitchen table with a box of crayons and coloring books she had snagged from the Mystery Shop (Sam really did have everything in stock). “Argo and I will stay right here and not do anything sneaky!” Argo punched his brother’s shoulder. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, even more nervous about leaving the boys in the large dilapidated dorm for an entire school day. 

“Don’t worry about it, Prefect!” Phineas, Ezra, and Gus, the Ramshackle ghosts, said, materializing in the kitchen. “We’ll take care of them.” 

(Y/N) sighed in relief. “Thank you, guys. Boys, you be good for the ghosts while Uncle Grim and I are away, okay?” 

“Yes, Mama,” They both said dutifully. They listened intently for the sound of the front door closing before jumping up and smiling at the ghosts. 

“Okay!” Argo said, clapping his hands. “Phase three of Operation Angelfish is a go!” 

For once, everything seemed to be going as normal. (Y/N) and Grim went to classes, got an update on the return potion from Professor Crewel (Just waiting for it to reduce to a concentrated form), had lunch, went to gym, nothing out of the ordinary. Which, as previously established, put (Y/N) on edge. 

Everything seemed to be normal. Too normal, as far as (Y/N) was concerned. If she didn’t know better (and she did) it would seem like her friends were going out of their way to make it seem like nothing important was going on. There had been at least three times already where (Y/N) had walked up to a group, only for them to immediately stop talking, or very obviously switch topics, all while casting side-eyes at each other. She also couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t seen Floyd all day. Well, maybe out of the corner of her eye, or hearing his voice, but it was always cut off, he was pulled away by his brother, or one of her friends suddenly desperately needed her over there right this second. 

She tried not to take this as some kind of commentary on the possible future relationship the two out of place children suggested. It wasn’t really that bad, was it? Her having feelings for Floyd? She knew Ace, Deuce, and Grim were pretty shocked when she had first confided in them. (“I think I like Floyd. Thought?” “And prayers.”) And while no one had ever said anything explicitly negative, besides the occasional teasing or complaining about her crush, there wasn’t anything actually encouraging either. (Y/N) knew she let Floyd get away with way too much most of the time, and only after interacting realized how moon-eyed she’d been acting. Half the time she thought Floyd might return her feelings, and the other half felt like he was taking advantage of her swayed good graces. It made her head spin and chest ache. 

And now, with Cas and Argo appearing out of nowhere? Saying that they were married in some possible future? Happily married with children? The picture the boys painted was idyllic. The kind of thing (Y/N) had only seen in magazines or at the end of some Jane Austen novel. (Y/N) felt herself blush every time she thought about it, whether it was out of embarrassment or longing, she wasn’t sure. Dinners together, people from NRC coming to visit all the time, (Y/N) bringing traditional holidays from her world to celebrate, a beautiful house by the Coral Sea where the boys would learn to swim in their human and mer forms. 

Was there a lingering darkness in the back of her mind that told her this meant she would never go back to her own world again? Sure, of course. Was there a nagging that this was only a possibility, and her own future still had a chance of being completely different? Yes, definitely. 

Did that stop her from planning how exactly she would formally confess to Floyd once she made sure Cas and Argo got home safely? Not a chance. 

Finally, it was the end of the day. (Y/N) was already planning in her head what to make for dinner when she heard someone call her name. Well, sort of her name. 

“Child of man,” Malleus called, raising a hand in greeting from the quad. 

“Oh, Horton,” She said, jogging over to him. “Hi, I don’t usually see you around now. How are you?” 

Malleus puffed up with pride, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “I’ve been recruited.” 

“Recruited?” 

“By my future nephews. I’m meant to distract you.” 

“Future-? Ah, I see.” (Y/N) had an adorable image flash in her mind of the twins and their doting Uncle Horton. “Any particular reason I’m being distracted?” 

“I’m not meant to say.” 

If they had managed to wrap Malleus into whatever they were doing, (Y/N) thought it couldn’t do that much harm. Why not let the boys have fun while they were still in the past? But just to be sure…

“Grim, you’ll make sure the house doesn't burn down while I’m gone, right?” 

Grim saluted, giving a conspiratorial nod at Malleus before flying away. 

Malleus offered his arm which (Y/N) took while they strolled away. “Should I be worried about what you’re all planning?” She asked. 

He hummed. “Not at all. Now, have I ever told you about the controversy surrounding bat-styled gargoyles versus griffin-styled gargoyles in 15th century cathedral architecture?” 

Floyd was mad. Actually mad. Sure he got annoyed or frustrated every once and awhile, but actually angry? That was a rarity that no one wanted to witness. 

Not only had Shrimpy not let him stay the night at her dorm again, which, fine, it was her house, but he’d been trying to see her all day to no avail. Either someone would pull her away, Jade would appear out of nowhere and stall him until she was gone, or they’d just keep missing each other. It would have been one thing if circumstances kept them apart, coincidences were coincidental after all, and it’s not like they had never gone a day without seeing each other. But this was intentional, pointed and deliberate. He was in a Shrimpy drought and the people around him were building a dam. 

And he couldn’t find his phone anywhere. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight and all the lights were too bright and he wanted to scream. He cut his last few classes and returned to Octavinelle. He had already started tearing off his jacket and shirt as he walked through the mirror portal, leaving clothing in a scattered trail as he marched his way to the decompression chambers that let out into the surrounding water around the dorm. He jumped into the water, the icy chill shocking his human system. He felt his muscles stretch and a comforting pressure encase his body as he shifted back to his mer-eel form, legs melding together as one as he whipped through the water. He shot through the water, scattering fish as he went. He didn’t have the patience to play with any of them today. He was finding he didn’t have the patience for a lot of things. 

She’d try to tell him, once, that she liked him. That maybe she loved him, or that could have been him projecting. (Oh, dear Seven, did he love her?) She’d asked him to meet him in the gardens after school. She said she’d been thinking a lot and there was something extremely important she needed to tell him. He’d poked her, saying she should just tell him now, in the passing period between classes surrounded by curious and eavesdropping classmates. She’d said no, that she still needed to get her thoughts in order. She’d written a letter, she said, that she was holding firmly in her hands, but she thought he would appreciate a more direct approach. So. Garden. After school. She’d be waiting. And then the bell had rung and she’d run off. 

And he’d left her waiting. 

He hadn’t shown up. He’d heard later that she’d been there so long the grounds keepers had to ask her to leave so they could lock up the bio-dome at night. He’d seen her the next morning, eyes red and puffy, huddled with her first year friends who were speaking in low, comforting tones, trying to be affectionate and reassuring in that awkward way teenage boys did. And he had waltzed right over, picking her up and spinning her around. And she hadn’t mentioned the garden. She hadn’t mentioned the letter. She never mentioned any of it again. They fell back into their old rhythm, the one Floyd knew, the one he was comfortable with, the one he could predict. 

He should have gone to the garden. 

Why the hell hadn’t he gone to the garden? 

Floyd burrowed into a reef section of a shallow, tearing at floating kelp with his claws and snapping jaws. He was trashing and writhing, kicking up the loose sand so it created a hazy cloud around him. The sand started getting in his mouth and eyes but he didn’t care. He welcomed the sting of it. 

Argo and Cas being here meant everything was okay, right? If they had kids in the future, it meant everything worked out, right? 

Floyd was mad. He was angry. 

And he didn’t understand why. 

“Floyd!” Floyd looked up, seeing Jade swimming towards him. 

He scowled, turning away to focus on wreaking havoc on the underwater flora. “Not now,” He said through gritted teeth. 

“Floyd, this isn’t the time-” Jade tried to reach out and touch his brother. Before he could make contact, Floyd whipped around with a snarl, swiping at Jade with his sharp claws.Jade quickly jerked out of the way, his surprise quickly melting to aggravation. Jade surged forward, catching Floyd around the stomach and tackling him to the sea floor. Floyd gnashed his teeth, clawing at Jade’s back. “What exactly do you think you’re going to accomplish here?” 

“Get off!” Floyd writhed, wrapping his tail around Jade and spinning to loosen his brother’s grip. Momentarily free, Floyd took the opportunity to lunge at Jade again. 

A fight, good. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to do something physical, something violent, something to get his mind out of whatever stoop he was stuck in, something so he didn’t have to focus on how bad he felt, something where the outcome could be predictable and certain, even if the certainty was pain. That was better than not knowing. That was better than letting feelings he couldn’t control take over his mind. 

He and Jade wrestled, throwing each other into the sand, striking with teeth and claws, whipping with their tails. They didn’t cast any spells, which is the only way each twin was able to understand the severity of their fight, even if it was a subconscious understanding. Fighting was one thing, using magic against each other was another. 

Finally, the two faced off, gills heaving with underwater breaths, scratches and gouges bleeding, eyes locked. Jade pushed back a little, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

“Do you really think this is the best use of your time right now?” He asked.

Floyd snapped his teeth. “Who asked you? What do you know about anything, anyway?” 

“I know (Y/N) tried to confess to you.” 

Floyd froze, then felt another surge of anger bubble under his skin. Why did Jade know? What right did he have to know (Y/N)’s inner thoughts when Floyd himself couldn’t even have them? 

“She told me,” Jade continued. “Or, I gathered from context clues. She asked if you had ever dated anyone back home, what sort of person you liked. She wanted to know if you prefer meeting in person to discuss important things or if she should leave a letter. Not that she really needed to discuss much. I would say it’s been rather obvious to anyone paying attention for the last few months. The real issue, I find, is why you haven’t confessed yourself.” 

Floyd yelled, grappling Jade and sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Jade bit his lip to keep from crying out. He took advantage of the grapple to twist and pull Floyd into a headlock. 

“I went there,” Jade continued through gritted teeth. “I went to the garden. I was planning on spying, I thought it’d be fun. But you never showed up. I kept waiting, and so did she, and you never appeared. Why in all of the deep blue sea didn’t you come?” 

“I don’t know!” Floyd confessed. He went limp in Jade’s grasp, all the fight going out of him. He let out a choked cry, something Jade hadn’t heard from his brother in who knows how long. “I don’t know, I don’t know!” 

Floyd sank to the rocky coral outcropping, collapsing. Jade observed him for a moment. He swam down, curling up next to Floyd. 

“She still has feelings for you, you know.” 

Floyd groaned deep in his chest. “I can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” 

“Can’t tell her. I can’t hear her say it. What happens after that, huh? What happens after we both say it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s the problem! How do I know what to do? Do I change, does she? And what if neither of us do? I can’t risk it, I can’t lose her!” 

“You’re losing her anyway.” 

Floyd felt his anger flash again and lashed out with a claw which Jade easily dodged. The fight drained out of him again and he flopped back down. 

Jade regarded Floyd. When he determined that Floyd wasn’t about to fly off the handle again, he came closer. “Don’t you think it’s selfish, keeping your feelings all to yourself?” 

“Eels are cowards,” Floyd mumbled.

“But humans are brave.” Floyd peaked up at Jade. “They can’t survive long in water, they don’t have the heightened senses of beastmean, nor the longevity of fairies. They don’t have claws or teeth or endless magic supplies. But they’re brave and stubborn. That’s how they’ve lasted so long, become such a force in the world. And there’s a certain human we know that is exemplary in that regard.” 

Floyd hummed. “She’s amazing. She’s pretty and smart and clever and strong and… What if I mess up, Jade?” 

Jade patted Floyd’s back. “Then I’m sure she’ll let you know and you’ll figure it out together. Relationships require two people, after all.” 

“You think she’ll forgive me? From before?” 

“If you apologize, I’m sure she will. And, brother dear, I have the perfect setting for such an apology. Come on, we need to get you fitted with your suit. And maybe some stitches there above your eye.” 

“Ow!” (Y/N) cried as she banged her shin for the third time. 

“Sorry, Mama!” Argo said, pulling her hand to maneuver her around the low table. 

“It’s fine. Are you sure I have to keep this blindfold on?” She reached up for it. 

“No!” Cas gasped. “It’s a surprise!” 

(Y/N) sighed and let herself be pulled along, gritting her teeth when she stubbed her toe on the side of a chair. 

After Malleus had brought her back to Ramshackle after their walk and gargoyle lecture, she had immediately been set upon by the boys who kept insisting that she absolutely not look anywhere near the backyard. Almost immediately after walking in the door, Vil appeared seemingly out of nowhere and shoved a garment bag in her hands. The dress was beautiful, of course, and probably worth more than she could ever afford, in her old world or this one. It seemed like almost everyone she knew was bustling around the dorm, being extremely secretive. Finally, her boys had come to get her, giving her a blindfold to wear and gingerly escorting her down stairs. 

‘Her boys.’ When exactly had she started thinking of them like that? 

(Y/N) felt a cool breeze as she stepped outside. She could feel the boys walking her up the hill in the backyard, stopping suddenly. 

“Okay, Mama,” Cas said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “You can look now!” 

(Y/N) removed the blindfold and gasped at what she saw. The large oak tree in the back dripped with tiny string lights and paper lanterns. Fireflies gently bobbed around in the oncoming twilight. A small table, (Y/N) recognized it from the Heartslabyul rose garden, had been set up underneath the glowing bows, decorated with a candelabra. 

“Oh, boys,” (Y/N) said, taking each of their hands. “This is beautiful. Is this what you’ve been up to all day?” 

“Mostly!” Argo said. 

“Yup, now it’s phase 4!” Cas said. 

“Phase 4?” (Y/N) asked. The boys just dragged her over to the table and pulled out the chair for her. They made to rush away before Argo hastily corrected himself and pulled out a wireless speaker from behind the tree trunk. He took out what suspiciously looked like Floyd’s phone, sinking it up to the speaker. Soon, it began to play a string quartet. Argo smiled triumphantly, he and Cas taking hands and rushing back to the dorm. 

(Y/N) smoothed her dress and sat down, watching the fireflies and sunset with the calming music in the background. There was a tea set on the table and she poured a cup. She paused for a moment before filling up the cup across from her as well. As she sipped the tea, she saw the silhouettes of Cas and Argo dragged someone around the side of the dorm. In the low light, she couldn’t exactly tell who it was, but based on the lanky form and fond body language, she guessed it was Floyd. She sighed inwardly, half excited to see him and half dreading it, especially in such a romantic location. So this way the boys’ real plan. She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. 

She stood up as Floyd came closer, stepping into the circle of light around the tree, ready to disperse whatever plot the boys had set up, before gasping. “Floyd! What happened?” Although Floyd was wearing a nice suit and tie, he had a black eye, a split lip, and a cut above one of his eyebrows that looked like it had been hastily patched with stitches. She rushed to him, her hands hovering around him. “Are you okay? Should we go to the infirmary? Who did those stitches - why do you have stitches!” She frowned. “Honestly, I keep telling you to stop getting into fights! One day you’re going to fight someone stronger than you and then where will we be? Look at you, you’re still bleeding!” 

Floyd only grinned, leaning down so his forehead touched hers. “Shrimpy’s worried about me.” 

She weakly pushed him off. “Of course I’m worried. Gosh, did the boys see you like this?” 

Before she could take a step away, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in a tight hug. “I like when you’re worried about me.” 

“Is that why you keep doing stupid stuff?” 

Floyd hummed. “Maybe. If it makes you pay attention to me, then it’s worth it, right?” 

(Y/N) didn’t know how to reply. She felt heat building up in her checks, a mixture of embarrassment and longing and something else she couldn’t quite place. 

“Floyd, I-” “I like you, (Y/N).” She froze at his words. “I couldn’t say it before. I mean, I could, but I didn’t. And that’s my fault. It was bad, I was bad, I still am bad. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just - You’re so much of everything. And I want that everything. I want us to share it, forever. I want to see you all the time because you make me so happy and I want to make you just as happy. I think we can be, together. I promise I’ll try, really hard. And I-” Floyd sniffed as (Y/N) pulled back. His face was flushed, tears dotting his lashes. He was trying to keep up his usual confidant grin, but it crumpled at the edges. “I’m sorry, Shrimpy. I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I acted like nothing was wrong, that nothing happened. I love you, you know that right? You know it now. I love you.” 

“Oh, Floyd,” She muttered, brushing his hair away from his face. “If I kiss you now, is your lip going to start bleeding again?” 

Floyd broke out into a real smile, letting out a choked laugh. He crushed (Y/N) to him, picking her up and spinning her around. He peppered kisses on her face while she giggled too. She took his face in her hands, gently lowering him closer and kissing him. 

Back at the dorm, spying out the windows, Cas and Argo high fived. 

The next morning was bright and sunny and (Y/N) couldn’t help but think it was all for her. 

Cas and Argo were making their rounds in the quad, saying goodbye to their uncles, many of whom grew misty eyed and the imminent departure. Floyd was squeezing her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. 

“Alright, pups, everyone settle down,” Professor Crewel called, waving everyone over. He took out a paper bag and shook out two dark purple oval candies, handing one to each boy. “Here, this will get you back to your time in the blink of an eye.” He patted each of their heads. “Be good, pups.” 

The two took the candies and rushed over to Floyd and (Y/N). Floyd crouched down and picked each boy one at a time, throwing them in the air and catching them before repeating with the other. (Y/N) pulled them both into a tight hug, kissing the tops of their heads. 

“I can’t wait to meet you boys for the first time,” She said. 

“We’ll see you soon, Mama!” Argo said. 

“Mama,” Cas said. “You’re going to take care of Papa, right?” 

(Y/N) laughed as Floyd frowned. “Hey, shouldn't I be the one taking care of Mama?” 

Cas frowned, a perfect mirror of his father. “Only kinda. Mama’s the one who does all the taking care of.” 

“Well, when you get home, tell your Papa and he promised you ice cream.” 

(Y/N) quickly whipped away the tears that were forming in her eyes. She cleared her throat to try and speak without faltering. “Speaking of, I’m sure your Mama and Papa are worried about you. I think it’s time to head off. But one more hug.” They crashed back into her open arms. Floyd threw his arms around all of them, squeezing tight. 

Finally, the Cas and Argo each took the others hand, popping the candy in their mouth. Cas screwed up his face and Argo stuck out his tongue at the bitter taste of it. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, comparing their reaction to hers when Floyd had first gotten her to drink the oracleum mycoculous tea. It seemed there was no good way to mask that taste. 

Before their eyes, the twins started to fade out, as if they had been projections. They stared in fascination at their disappearing bodies. They looked up and waved and everyone waved back. Eventually, they slipped out of view. The group waited another moment, giving some sort of solemn respect to the family they would meet again in the future before dispersing. 

“So,” Floyd, leaning down to speak quietly to (Y/N). “You never did answer me, Shrimpy.” 

“Answer what?” 

He grinned deviously and (Y/N) immediately regretted asking. “How many times you think it took before we got them.”

[justabirdy]

Okay, I have a Serious Request

Please consider following my Youtube and Ko-Fi. Both are free to do and will help me tremendously. Currently, I have just over 50 subscribers, but If I can reach 500 subscribers on Youtube maybe I can start monetizing a tiny bit there. My Ko-Fi is where I sell my art and stickers, following it would at least help keep the page active and may help influence some sales. Ultimately, please help me expand my reach.

Why it's more important now than ever

Earlier this week my hours were cut permenantly at work. There is a very serious threat that I will lose my job in the coming weeks or months. The powers that be have decided they need to save money and my position is realistically the one least important to daily operations.

Currently, I make just enough to keep afloat. My housing is employee housing and my student loan payments are lower because I work for the public. If I lose this job, I also lose both of those benefits and will be forced to move away. I'm already unsure how I'm going to cover bills as it is, but as a queer, trans person who is old enough they can no longer do heavy field work, I'm very nervous for my future. If all of my followers here subscribed to my youtube, I could be monetized in no time. It wouldn't be a lot, I wont lie, but income is income and it would help.

I know I cant offer much in return, but I can try to keep my livestream going as much as possible and keep making prints of my nature journals and even my photography if the interest is there. And I would be deeply grateful to anyone who would help me make ends meet while I figure life out.

Thanks for reading, please have this red-bellied woodpecker enjoying an orange for all your efforts,

[weaselle]

What'd your boss do, if you don't mind?

oh dear. trap card activated

ok. ok. There is a lot more behind me reaching the end of my rope. But the final straw was this:

I have next week off (my first week off in 3 years). She said she needed a report. She explicitly told me the reason she needed the report was so she could cover my shifts while i am off, citing problems covering when one of our clients gave me covid a month ago.

She said she needed to know what order I was doing pick ups and drop offs, and she needed to know procedures for the new clients (about half of our clients are new enough that she has never worked directly with them).

She gave the specific example of not knowing to go to the side door of one client's house instead of the front door. She said she also needed to know who had timing expectations, saying when she covered for me clients were "blowing up her phone" because she didn't know when clients expected me and which clients i typically texted an arrival time, again giving a specific example of "like the way you text [client she is familiar with] from the bottom of the hill on your way to her house"

I clarified by using two more examples "oh like how I always let [client's dog] stop to pee right before putting him back in the house, and how I always text [other client] when i am 15 minutes from her house?" and she confirmed that was the information she was asking for. She said to just write it down at each house along my route as i worked each day of the week.

At the end of Monday I told her writing all that down was making me late to client's houses, so i was just going to write it all up on the weekend. I also pointed out that since i was writing so much of it down anyway, i might as well write it not just good enough for her, but complete enough that any other employee could cover a shift of mine if needed. She agreed.

Since i was volunteering to do more than was strictly asked, and since i have been trying to showcase how i go above and beyond because she promised to make me a manager but hasn't, i wrote up this report in my own time, unpaid, over the weekend.

Now I only wrote a short paragraph for each client. But I service about 20 clients each day. Many of those clients are repeat clients throughout the week, so there was a fair amount of copy/pasting, but it was still a hell of a report to write up.

Because it was so long, I spent extra time making it super organized and easy to read, formatted so it's not just a wall of text, easy to skip over parts and find specific information as needed.

I turned in to her a 26 page 14,000 word document, which contains the necessary information for any employee to cover my specific client routes. It took me 7 hours.

Her response?

"This isn't what i asked for"

BUT IT IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE ASKED FOR.

I confirmed that it was what she asked for. It IS a little more detailed than she strictly asked for, but I TOLD her I would be doing that and she spent four days knowing I was preparing to do that and she didn't say a thing about not doing that.

So I'm like "well, what do you need that's not in there?"

And she says "i need to know the exact order you are doing your route, not just pick ups, but slotting the drop offs in-between the pickups too"

So i'm like "that is exactly how that report is written"

And she says "I need to know the times clients expect you to be picking up and dropping off, and when you are doing the walks and when you are taking breaks"

And i go "every client that has a timing expectation is noted in that report, my break times and the walk times are also included."

And she says "it's more information than i need, I need just the stuff i personally need, like the cliffs notes version of your report"

And i'm like "the cliffs notes version, the lines containing the specific information you personally need, are done in bold so you can easily skim through and find it."

and after going around and around like this, it finally comes out that what she ACTUALLY wants is a minute to minute log of how i am spending my day because she's paying me about 6 hours a week of overtime and she's mad about it.

Which i'm happy to provide a log of my time on shift, but if she wants to know why there's overtime, i can tell her in 2 minutes instead of wasting my time on this logging project, IN FACT I DID TELL HER WHY THERE WAS OVERTIME, ONCE WHEN CHANGES TO THE SCHEDULE MADE IT SEEM LIKELY, AND AGAIN TWO WEEKS LATER CONFIRMING THAT WAS WHAT HAD HAPPENED

But really it boils down to me bending over backwards to help her grow her business while she has failed to make good on every single promise she's made me.

Like, I was her only employee for two years and she promised she would make me a manager (i'm interested in a promotion for both the monetary compensation and the job title for résumé reasons) and i worked my ass off to build up the client base so we could hire two more employees and make that happen...

but she did not have me sit in on the interviews, she did not have me shadow her doing the intake process, nothing. She clearly either does not intend on making me a manager or doesn't know how.

i tend to gravitate to small, owner operated businesses, partially because i have a real soft spot for being truly needed, and partially because it's a way to study the dos and don'ts of how to open and run my own business one day.

I understand she is a small business with small business problems, and i have been very patient because she's a single mom with a lot going on in her personal life.

But the thing about me is, while I am very very patient and very very loyal... i need a bare minimum of return on that to replenish it. Tell me what a great job i'm doing every now and then, show appreciation for what i do, listen to me when i say things, etc, and if you NEVER do any of that, my vast reserves of patience and loyalty will dry up.

And once you use up my patience and loyalty? That's it. It's gone.

And I, well, i have been all used up.

also she pays me like half what she should, which i was letting slide because i was going to get a big raise with my promotion to manager, but that is looking like it will never happen, so ... fuuuuuuck this shit i'm out

"so i can open and run my own business one day" has arrived

[fearlessword]

I’ll meet you in my dreams

You dreamed of the boy who played piano before you knew who he was. Humming the melodies you heard in your sleep brought BTS into your life and you thought it was just meant to be.When you finally have the chance to see him perform live, you realize that the dreams you have are more than a coincidence. You hope he dreams of you too.

Chapter 1

Wake up. Teach. Eat. Plan. Overthink. Cry. Sleep.

Repeat.

You didn’t know how your life turned out to be like this. You hated it. You hated the city streets were empty. You hated that the principal kept watching each lesson just to criticize your teaching.You hated teaching online and how burned out you were because of it. You hated not being able to see your friends, or what’s left of them. You hated that fucking virus that postponed all of your plans. You hated how much you missed your cheating ex and that traitor you once called best friend.

Everything sucks in 2020.

At first, it seemed like it was just for a while, which also meant a good break before the craziness that came with Spring and the end of the school year. Two months after the government announced the quarantine, you were burned out, rethinking life choices, crying yourself to sleep because of a break up you thought you had moved on from. Your roommate and coworker Camila was the only good thing. She became a nice friend who could relate to you. Both of you were just two tired teachers trying to survive in New York City during a pandemic. The growing friendship you had made it bearable. When nights were especially hard for you and you’d sob and cry at 3 am, your friend wouldn’t say a thing, only to greet you with open arms, a mug of hot coffee, and a silent promise of ice cream and movies after dinner. You didn’t deserve it, considering you were the reason she’d wake up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t hold it against you, and you were grateful for that.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you shouldn’t be crying for a relationship that finished two years ago. It was hard not to, especially now that there wasn’t much, besides work, to keep you busy. It was the last week of May, Summer was just around the corner and you yearned for the joy the season brings. At the same time, shaking off the feelings that came with the isolation was not an easy feat. He cheated on you with your best friend, after all! You tell yourself he doesn’t deserve your tears, but it takes time to erase things like that.

You are lonely and confused, angry to feel the way you felt. Grieving the youth you’re giving away while staying at home. So, on that night of May, you did what you should’ve done 2 years ago. You got your blue journal, a pencil, bursted your earbuds with the saddest songs you could find, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wrote.

The words spilled from your mind to the paper, a letter addressed to the one who made you feel like this. How you met, how you became friends, the moment you realized you loved him. The memories you wanted to erase flowing so easily through your hands. The story was kept in your head for so long, suffocating you a little bit every day, it was like you could exhale for the first time. How you missed this!

You were so focused on revisiting all of the moments to write, that you didn’t check the time. It was late, so late. And you needed to sleep now if you wanted to have energy for the long day of teaching you had ahead of you.

You checked the amount of words you’ve written. Seven pages. It was still just the beginning. Your eyes were red and wet and you got yourself a headache. As cathartic as it was to write like this, it had left you with zero to no energy to keep going. As you were embraced by your sleep, you wished the part of your brain that processed traumatic experiences just did its job.

That night, you dream of a man and a piano.

Not exactly a piano, it was more like a keyboard.

All you could see was that he was making music.

The room was compact, so much it didn’t look like a room. “Maybe he’s camping”, you thought. There was a bunk bed and a tiny table underneath it, which was where he was working with a yellow notepad and pencil positioned close to the laptop. His pale skin was in contrast with the black straight hair covering part of his face. Still, you were able to see some of his facial expressions. He was so concentrated in his craft, long fingers testing notes in the mini keyboard connected to his laptop.

You wish you could listen to the melody he is so focused on, he was clearly showing signs of conflict, while listening to it on his headphones. He throws his head back and breathes loudly, like he needs a break, the hair moves out of his face and you can see his eyes now. Deep, dark, catlike eyes.

Oh God. He 's beautiful.

You could feel a pull, an inexplicable warmth inside of you… You were curious about him. You were curious about the circumstances. Why were you consciously dreaming about a man you have never seen in your life? Why aren’t you in this dream? How could he fascinate you so much in minutes?

A door opens and there’s light in the room. You hear a voice speaking a language you don’t understand. You hear a deep voice, his voice, replying in the same language. Then, everything goes black.

You were pulled out of the dream, eyes open, back in your room, but with remains of the comforting warmth inside of you.

It stayed with you the whole day, just like the memory of the boy making music.

That night, the crying is not that loud, your writing process still hard, but not unbearable.

You were still tired, still heartbroken. The routine was the same.

But there was that warm feeling in your chest. And as your head touches the pillow in the middle of the night, you hope to dream of him again.

>>> Next Chapter

[yosb]

they're regency boyfriends who met in paris in their 20s in the 1790s 🥺

The Masquerader, a queer Regency webcomic

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[mattodore]

the reason why i was offline for a day was bc i was in cas editing mattodore and messing with my cas bg, yeah, but also... i found another oc ask game that i liked the questions for so i started drafting theo and matthias's answers for them....... there's 100 questions this time so i've just been like this in google docs

[raksh-writes]

Gosh, Im being such a lazy ass today, with finals just around the corner and an off day to get stuff done and instead I just wanna play Skyrim ffs...

[hairtusk]

I'm one more minor inconvenience away from an actual, fully-fledged nervous breakdown

[fingertipsmp3]

Why am I so proud of myself for doing something that is basically a failure on all levels

[neil-gaiman]

I know your ask box is probably full, so I totally get it if you don't get to this anytime soon, but I need some help.

I'm a sixteen year old aspiring writer with ADHD and anxiety. My writing patterns are horrible. I go months without writing then spit out a hundred pages. I've been writing since I was eight and I've never finished a story longer than a few thousand words because I physically cannot force myself to write in order, though I can eventually fill in the gaps (if I'm given a few months).

I'm trying my best, but it feels like my best isn't good enough for the world. Do you (or any other successful writers you know) have similar problems? Or is this something you overcome with time? Basically wondering if there's hope of me being successful despite these traits. Thanks!

You're sixteen. The reason why the world isn't filled with successful sixteen year old novelists is we were all (or most of us) trying to figure out how to do the writing thing in bursts and spurts and with dozens of beginnings and not a lot of endings, and we have some characters over here and some story over there and we can't work out how to make them align and work together. And so on and so forth.

You are not a failure if you haven't published a Hugo-award winning trilogy by the time you're twenty. You're an egg that hasn't even finished hatching.

Write. Read everything you can. Write more. Finish some short stories. Read more. Write more. Experience some life. Finish longer things. You'll get there. It's not a race. It's a way to learn.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

[ao3commentoftheday]

Do you have any advice and how to write a long fic?

I'll encourage long fic writers to add on in the notes, but as someone who tends to prefer short and medium-length fic, I'll tell you how I go about it.

Get a premise that you just absolutely love. You're going to be writing this thing for months, if not longer, so you want it to be something you're willing to spend a lot of time thinking about.

Embrace subplots. You'll have your main plotline that you want to see through from beginning to end, but you can also weave in some subplots here or there. The way I do this so that I don't get lost down a rabbit hole is that I always make sure that every chapter has at least 1 thing that moves the main plot forward and then if I want to spend 1-2K with some side characters doing something fun I can do that as well. Subplots can extend for the length of the full narrative, but they can also just last a chapter or three. If you're used to writing short fic, these might give you that familiar feeling of "completion"

A chapter is only as long as it needs to be. Don't get hung up on having a consistent chapter length. Don't get hung up on hitting some arbitrary number every time. Instead, figure out what the next part of your story needs to include and write however many words it takes to get that chunk across. Varying your chapter lengths is a normal thing to do and not something to stress about.

The next thing that I find important personally may or may not be relevant to you, but I find that I can't plot anything in much detail. If I get too into the nitty gritty with my plotting, it just feels like I've already written it. I need to keep it at the level of "And then A and B meet C and hijinks ensue." I can figure out the particular hijinks later. It's the characters meeting up that's the next important thing for me to figure out. Getting too far ahead of myself is a death knell for me in writing long fics, but there are other writers who swear by it. Test out different ways of approaching it and see what works for you.

As someone who tends to write more briefly, another feature that's common to longer fics is more extensive descriptions. People spend time painting visual pictures of the setting or the characters or the actions that are happening. Write the more bare-bones style that focuses more on dialogue (if you're like me) and then go back and read through what you've just written and see if there are opportunities to add in more detail. This can lead to some really interesting characterization choices and also help you out with worldbuilding.

When it comes to worldbuilding, you don't have to get it all on the page. You just need to share what's relevant for the reader in that moment and what is useful to lay out now so that it's already there in a future chapter. You can have an encyclopedic knowledge of how your world works in your head, but it's not actually necessary. No one is going to be quizzing you later - and if they do, you can always figure it out at that point.

Most important for me when I'm trying to get myself to the end of a longer fic, have a friend or a group of friends who are also into what you're writing - or at least willing to hear you get excited about it. Being able to get excited about your work is so important. It's like a bottle of water being handed to you on mile 10 of a marathon.

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[dduane]

Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?

I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.

I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.

I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?

Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.

Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:

It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)

Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?

Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.

So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.

It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.

Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).

And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.

You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)

The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)

Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.

(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)

Hope this helps!

[ecoamerica]

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