#Felt Jellyfish Class

[snowflakeforestfelting]

SnowflakeForest Presents Wool Batting and Jellyfish Kits

[syxnewt]

today we dissected a cow eye and it was gross but once we cut it all the way inside it was fine. still gross but all the gross parts were cool so it was okay. in the back of a cow eye there's something called a tatetum or something I forget how it's spelled and it reflects the light inside the eye back out so it has a second chance to be viewed. this is basically night vision. humans don't have that because it kinda blurs sight and we needed precise seeing evolutionarily. it looks hella pretty though. the one my partner and I cut open was a pretty shade of blue but someone else at our table looked like I guess the closest description would be an iridescent butterfly's wing? it was genuinely one of the prettiest things I have ever seen and it was the inside of a cow eyeball.

[witchingwithscissors]

Agathario AU | Inspired by a single gif of Aubrey Plaza. No I will not elaborate. Yes it’s gay. Words: 6,678

The road to the community center shimmered under the summer sun, its heat rising in waves that blurred the painted lines. A soft buzz of cicadas stitched the stillness together, interrupted only by the low hum of Agatha Harkness' aging sedan and the occasional, rhythmic flick of the turn signal.

Agatha drove with one hand resting on the wheel, the other draped casually near the open window. Warm air curled across her skin, sticky and familiar. Her blouse clung at the back, and her sunglasses kept sliding down her nose. But she didn’t mind. The mundane discomforts of summer felt almost grounding.

In the back seat, her four-year-old son, Nicky, was deep in conference with his plush frog.

“Froggy says it’s almost time,” he whispered. “We gotta do our big stretches so we can float really good.”

Agatha glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Float better, sweetheart. Why do you need to float better, hmm?”

“For jellyfish mode,” he said like it was obvious. “Froggy says I need to be wiggly but not too wiggly. Like a calm jelly.”

Agatha smiled, her gaze softening. “Well, remind Froggy to listen to the teacher.”

“He knows already! He said Coach Cool got real superpowers!”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Coach… Cool?”

“That’s her secret name!” Nicky said, bouncing. “Her real name is Coach Rio! You forgot, Mommy!”

Agatha made a show of thumping her forehead with her palm. “Of course. How could I forget someone with superpowers?”

Nicky giggled and went back to flipping through his frog-themed sticker book, worn and crinkled from too many car rides.

They turned down a narrow road lined with old oak trees, their branches heavy with green. The scent of sunbaked mulch and chlorine drifted in through the window, unmistakable and sharply nostalgic.

For a moment, Agatha let the quiet settle in. No meetings. No looming deadlines. No hurried errands she didn’t care about. Just her son, his frog, and the slowly dawning truth that she was finally, finally out of excuses to avoid her own life.

She hadn’t dated since Ralph.

Not because of grief. Not exactly.

Ralph had been a partner in the logistical sense: financially steady, reliable, good with diaper changes and Saturday grocery runs. Safe. Predictable. Kind.

But they hadn’t shared a bed after the first year.

Agatha had tried. She’d told herself discomfort was just part of marriage, that maybe intimacy got easier with time. That love was supposed to feel practical.

He knew. Of course he did. She never said the words, but he saw it. In the way she pulled away from touch. The way she overworked. The way she couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror.

That she didn’t love him that way. That she was surviving a life she thought she had to want.

And then he died. Suddenly. No warning, no long goodbye.

And the script she’d been clinging to disappeared with him.

And after that—

No more pretending. No more excuses.

She was now 43. Her marketing business ran itself. She paid the bills. She parented well. She laughed when Nicky said ridiculous things like "jellyfish mode."

So what now?

Agatha pulled into the community center parking lot, the building squat and welcoming, its windows steamed from indoor humidity. She killed the engine and turned to Nicky.

“You ready, baby?”

He stuck out his chest. “I’m brave! But Froggy said he’s scared... just a tiny bit.”

“Want me to hold him during class?”

“No! He hasta watch me float really good—uh, I mean bett'r!”

Agatha bit back a grin. “Naturally.”

Inside, the pool area hit them like a wet slap—chlorine-heavy air thick with steam and echoes. Flip-flops slapped on tile, kids shrieked and splashed, and the chaotic energy of childhood swirled through the humid space.

Nicky bolted toward the shallow end, Froggy under one arm like a noble talisman.

Agatha turned to follow and then stopped.

Coach Rio stood poolside, crouched beside a toddler, adjusting goggles with a tenderness that made the moment feel slower somehow. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose braid, a few damp strands clinging to her temple. Black shorts hugged her strong, sun-bronzed legs, and a red tank top clung to her like a second skin—damp, warm, utterly unbothered.

She looked like summer come to life. Solid. Gorgeous. Effortlessly herself.

When Rio looked up, Agatha forgot how to breathe.

It was the kind of moment people laugh off later, blame on heatstroke... or hormones. But it landed in her chest and felt impossible to ignore.

She was... radiant. Not in the magazine sense. In the way she moved. Grounded. Easy. Like she belonged.

And then she smiled at a child.

Not at Agatha. Not yet. But the way she did it—open, delighted, patient—made something strange and electric bloom behind Agatha’s ribs.

She shook herself and kept walking, head down, too aware of the sweat at her collarbone.

From the bleachers, Agatha watched the class. Watched Rio guide the kids with a steady hand and an easy confidence. She didn’t shout. She didn’t coddle. She crouched when she talked to them. She remembered names.

Nicky floated for three seconds and came up grinning.

“Jellyfish mooooooode!” he shouted.

Rio laughed, rich and full. “That was Olympic-level floating, buddy.”

Agatha folded her arms tighter.

This woman—this stranger—was the cherry on top of an already cracked-open day. And now Agatha was trying not to stare. She wasn’t doing very well.

After class, Nicky ran toward her, soaked and beaming.

“I floated like a real jellyfish! Froggy counted all the way to five!”

Agatha crouched to towel him off. “And Froggy is a very generous judge.”

A shadow passed over them.

“Hey, superstar,” Rio said. “You totally ruled the pool.”

Nicky squeaked and buried his face in Agatha’s side.

Rio offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Rio.”

“Agatha.”

The handshake was warm. Firm. It lingered a second longer than expected.

Rio smiled. “You two new here, or just new to my class?”

“Moved last year. Wanted space.”

“Smart move,” Rio said. Her gaze held steady. “This place is good for that.”

She seemed interested. Present. Like she was choosing this conversation on purpose. And Agatha didn’t know what to do with that.

“You should swing by my other gig sometime. Vidal Swirl. It’s my shop—ice cream, coffee, all that. Nicky would love it.”

Agatha blinked. “Wait. That's a real place, or are you messing with me?”

Rio grinned. “Depends.”

Nicky pulled on her sleeve. “Mommy! Froggy said he need'a popsicle right now!”

“Of course he does.” Agatha looked back at Rio. “We might just take you up on that.”

“Good,” Rio said, a glint in her eye. “I make a scandalous cherry-chocolate crunch. One bite and you’re either in love… or in trouble. Sometimes both.”

Agatha’s mouth curved before she could stop it. “I’ll take my chances.”

She gathered their things, nudged Nicky toward the door, and didn’t look back.

But she felt it—heat lingering at the base of her neck, eyes she didn’t need to see to know.

Rio was still watching.

The next week, the sky broke open. Not a drizzle. A full-throated summer downpour, with sheets of rain hammering the windshield and thunder rumbling like a warning. The kind of storm that made the whole world feel heavier.

Agatha parked with a splash and cursed under her breath as she reached for Nicky's bag, already soaked through from the short dash across the lot.

Inside, the pool area was quieter than usual. Steam curled up from the surface, and the glass ceiling vibrated softly with the sound of raindrops.

Agatha stood near the pool deck this time, arms crossed over her damp linen blouse, her hair frizzing in defiance. Her mood matched the weather. She was watching Rio so intently again.

Rio was in the water, her ponytail soaked, her tank clinging to her back. She floated beside Nicky, gently nudging his noodle into place. Her tone was low and encouraging.

Agatha’s chest ached. That familiar tightness again.

Rio caught her looking. And this time, Agatha didn’t look away.

After class, Nicky skipped from the locker room in mismatched socks and a towel cape.

Agatha reached out, ruffling his damp locks. “You did great today, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I knows,” Nicky said solemnly.

Rio approached, wringing out her ponytail with one hand, a hoodie in the other, and a canvas bag slung over her opposite shoulder—faded denim with a rainbow patch stitched onto the side, fraying slightly at the corners.

“You’ll catch a chill,” she said simply, offering the dry piece of clothing. It smelled like clean cotton and a hint of lavender.

Agatha hesitated. She slipped it on without a word. It was warm. It swallowed her shoulders. It was too much and not enough.

“Much better,” Rio murmured, her eyes skimming Agatha’s face. “You clean up nice—even soaked.”

Agatha didn’t answer. But she smiled.

As Nicky tugged on his sneakers, Rio unzipped her canvas bag—the one with the little rainbow patch Agatha had noticed earlier—and fished around before pulling out a battered paperback. She hesitated, shifted her weight. “Okay, this is probably ridiculous... and maybe I should’ve just stuck with the hoodie, but I brought you something else.”

Agatha blinked, surprised, as Rio offered the book again with a sheepish, almost teasing smile. “You seem like someone who reads at night. Like when your brain won't let you be.”

She scratched the back of her neck. “This one’s about complicated women who make... like bold, occasionally catastrophic choices. I figured… maybe that vibe resonates?” Then, with a glance that didn’t quite meet Agatha’s eyes, “Anyway, if it’s not your thing, no big deal. I just—thought of you.”

Agatha took it carefully and looked down at the cover. 'The Price of Salt.' Her brows lifted.

“Messy and beautiful,” Rio murmured, almost like she was thinking aloud. Then, after a beat, “It meant something to me. Thought you might get something out of it too.”

Agatha stood for a moment longer, hoodie too warm, book in hand, rain still echoing overhead.

And something inside her stirred.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She didn’t really know what else to say.

Rio nodded, already turning to help another kid zip a too-small backpack. “See you next week, Jellyfish.”

That night, Nicky fell asleep curled against her ribs, one hand still gripping Froggy’s leg. She lay there a long time before slipping out from under him and settling into bed. The hoodie was still on the back of her chair. She pulled it on again.

Next to it, the paperback. She flipped it open and her hand stilled on the page.

She didn’t know what she wanted yet.

Only that something in her life had been paused too long.

And now, perhaps, it was beginning again.

Tuesday afternoon, Agatha lingered in the lobby of the community center, arms crossed, pretending to read the flyers about summer movie nights and free CPR training. But her eyes kept flicking to the glass doors, listening for the sharp squeak of sneakers on polished floors—the sound she’d started waiting for without meaning to.

Nicky came bounding out of the changing room, a puff of chlorine-scented air trailing after him.

“Mommy, I has'a secret. But you can't hear it.” He clutched his stuffed frog dramatically and leaned down to whisper something into its fuzzy ear with a loud, stage-whisper hush.

Agatha crouched and gently tapped his nose. “Is Froggy conspiring again?”

Nicky nodded and skipped off to check out the vending machine selection, narrating a dramatic standoff between chocolate chip cookies and seaweed chips.

Behind him, Rio emerged, her hair damp from the pool. Her white shirt clung in the humidity, and a faint flush had risen to her cheeks. She wore the same ease as always—like her body was something she never second-guessed.

Agatha held out a folded sweatshirt, freshly laundered and faintly scented with morning coffee.

“For you,” she said. “Washed it too.”

Rio grinned, taking it with both hands. “I was hoping you’d keep it.”

Agatha let herself smile back. “I started the book.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m halfway through.”

Rio looked genuinely delighted. “It only gets gayer from here.”

Agatha laughed before she could stop herself. “Good.”

There was a pause. Long enough to feel like it could mean something.

“You’re a quick reader,” Rio said. “That, or it hit a nerve.”

Agatha glanced down. “Maybe both.”

Another pause.

Rio reached for her hoodie slowly, brushing Agatha’s fingers as she folded it over one arm. “Let me know if you want the sequel. It’s sadder. Also gayer.”

“I’ll consider it,” Agatha said, trying to sound light. But her throat was too tight.

Swim lessons became a quiet ritual. Not dramatic, not even intentional, but consistent. Nicky adapted fast, and his joy carried Agatha into a rhythm she hadn’t realized she missed.

Rio gave every kid a nickname—not just Nicky. A tiny redhead girl became “Cannonball Queen.” A shy boy named Henry was “Sea Otter Supreme.” She crouched to their level when she talked. She remembered which kid liked purple goggles and who hated getting their hair wet. She offered high-fives and let them splash her. And she never forced a child to do more than they were ready for.

Agatha watched from the bleachers. Every week, she noticed something new.

The way Rio guided a nervous child’s hand to rest on the water, murmuring, It’ll hold you, I promise.

The way she crouched at poolside—leaning on her elbows, voice low and encouraging, all calm steadiness.

The way she peeled off her shirt on the hotter days—casual, unthinking—revealed a red lifeguard one-piece that clung to her like a second skin. Her arms were strong, defined from weeks of sun and motion, and a soft line of muscle ran down her abdomen, catching the light like something sculpted. Agatha would forget how to breathe, her pulse stuttering like her body hadn’t gotten the memo that it was just swim class.

One afternoon, Agatha reached out absentmindedly to hand Nicky a towel. Rio turned, and her hand brushed Rio’s side. Bare, warm skin.

She froze.

Rio glanced at her, eyes curious.

Agatha stepped back. “Sorry. I wasn’t—sorry.”

Rio smiled, gentle. “You’re okay.”

But Agatha flushed hard, caught off guard.

She glanced away quickly, pretending to focus on Nicky, but her pulse betrayed her—fluttering. Was it embarrassment? Or want? Maybe both. She didn’t look at Rio again for the rest of the lesson, too aware of her own body, too afraid she’d give something away.

That night, Agatha lay awake long after Nicky had fallen asleep. He’d curled up tight with Froggy under one arm, mouth open in his usual toddler snore.

She stared at the ceiling, then reached for the nightstand. 'The Price of Salt' was still there—dog-eared, worn, and heavier now than when she first opened it. One line in particular stared back at her: “She looked at her and something settled.”

Agatha shut the book slowly and got up.

She padded barefoot to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

She didn’t recognize herself at first: bare shoulders, hair loose, face quiet.

She took a deep breath.

“I’m gay,” she said.

Her voice was low, even. She said it again. And then again, until it didn’t sound like a foreign language.

Later, when she passed Ralph’s photo in the hallway—one where he held baby Nicky, proud and beaming—she stopped. Her breath caught. The hallway was quiet, dim, but the weight of the picture hit her like a wave. She stepped closer, barely breathing, staring at a life she had performed more than lived.

“Ralph,” she whispered, the word crumpling in her mouth.

Her hand reached out, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch the frame. She didn’t feel like she had the right.

“I used you.” The words came out thin, breaking. “I didn’t mean to. God, I... I didn’t mean to. I told myself it was enough. That I was lucky. That I could make it work if I just stayed busy—if I just kept... pretending.”

Her throat tightened.

“You were good to me. You were good to Nicky. Fuck—you gave me Nicky. And I tried to deserve that. I tried to be what you needed. But I was lying the whole time. Not just to you. To me, too.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and helpless.

“I wasn’t straight. I never was. And I thought maybe if I married the right man, had the baby, made it all look right on paper… it would fix the part of me that didn’t fit.”

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “I didn’t love you the way you deserved. I didn’t know how.”

Silence filled the hallway, thick and aching.

“I hope you knew,” she whispered, her voice barely there. “I hope, somehow, you knew I was trying. Even if it was all wrong.”

She stood there a moment longer, her heart too full and too empty all at once. Then, gently, she flicked off the light and slipped back into bed.

The guilt didn’t vanish. But for the first time, it had a name. And it had been spoken out loud.

Thursday after class, Rio hung back. “Hey, so uh, there’s this cool bookstore downtown,” Rio said, kneeling beside Nicky to help with his backpack. “I do story hour there once a month. I’m reading Saturday.”

She hesitated, then looked up. “You should come. I mean—if you and Nicky are free. It’s pretty sweet, and he’d probably like it. Maybe you too.”

Nicky’s eyes got big. “Is there gonna be snacks?”

“Always,” Rio said with a grin. “And beanbags. And hey, if you guys come, I might just find a cool frog book with your name on it, Jellyman.”

Agatha looked at her for a moment. Really looked. Then nodded slowly. “We’ll be there.”

The bookstore was tucked between a bakery and a florist, its gold-lettered windows slightly fogged from the afternoon heat. Inside, it smelled like espresso, old paper, and something soft and sweet—maybe honey pastries, maybe just comfort. It didn’t feel like a store. It felt like a hug someone had turned into a room.

Agatha hesitated in the doorway, holding Nicky’s hand. Her heart beat a little too loud for something as mundane as story time. But there was Rio already, in her element, greeting the small crowd of kids like a favorite cousin who never outgrew their sense of magic.

The kids' area was tucked in the back corner, framed by rainbow beanbags, pastel rugs, and low shelves filled with picture books that wore their queerness proudly. Julian Is a Mermaid. Red: A Crayon's Story. My Maddy.

Nicky let go of her hand and made a beeline for a basket of books, promptly narrating an imaginary council meeting between amphibian royalty. Froggy, naturally, was presiding.

Agatha drifted to the perimeter, leaning near a shelf of worn-out YA paperbacks. She pretended to browse. In reality, she watched.

Rio sat in a rounded teal chair, one foot tucked beneath her, the other lightly tapping the rug as she turned pages. She wore a faded tank top, the strap slipping off one shoulder, her smile full and easy. Her voice shifted with each character, warm and playful but never cloying. She let the kids interrupt. Let them shout. Let them be who they were.

Nicky perched beside a plush alligator, his mouth open in pure, unfiltered awe.

Agatha felt something pinch behind her eyes. It was the way Rio made space. For everyone. For her.

She hadn't realized she'd started to let herself want that.

When the final page turned, the kids scattered in every direction—some to crayons, others to the snack table. Nicky marched straight to Rio, a picture clutched in both hands.

“Look! It’s me and you and Froggy!” he beamed. “Froggy’s in charge, and he said you hafta eat more sprinkles or else!”

Rio crouched beside him, inspecting the wild scribbles like they were sacred.

“I’ve never looked better,” she said solemnly. “And Froggy looks like he has a lot of opinions.”

“He said, ‘More sprinkles. No excuses.’”

Rio gasped. “The nerve. I’ll fix that immediately.”

From the poetry shelf, Agatha let out a quiet, unguarded laugh. She tried to cover it with a fake cough.

Rio looked over her shoulder, caught Agatha watching, and didn’t look away. She made her way over, unhurried, while Nicky returned to his masterpiece with serious scribbling energy.

She nodded at the book in Agatha’s hand. “That one makes you cry by page twelve.”

Agatha looked down at the cover. “I haven’t even opened it. Just needed something to hold.”

“Same,” Rio said softly.

They stood for a moment in the quiet hum of the store. Music played faintly in the background—something with strings and soft voices. Rio rocked back on her heels.

“I like this place,” Agatha said, because it felt safer than saying something like, I like the way you make this place feel.

Rio grinned. “Same. It’s actually where I figured it out. I was standing over by the graphic novels, flipping through some random teen anthology and boom, lesbian prom kiss. Totally wrecked me.”

Agatha blinked. “You just… knew?”

“Eventually. I kept coming back for that one book. Like if I stared at it long enough, it would tell me something.” She tilted her head. “What about you?”

Agatha hesitated. Her pulse skipped. Her throat tightened around the truth.

Rio’s gaze flicked to Agatha’s hands, then lingered on her mouth—just a second too long to be innocent—before finally meeting her eyes. Her smile was warm, a little teasing. “Take your time. It’s allowed.”

There was a beat of silence. Not awkward. Just charged. Waiting.

Rio reached out, slow and deliberate, and tapped the spine of the book in Agatha’s hands, her touch lingering on Agatha’s fingers. She didn’t pull away right away. Instead, she let the contact hum between them, a quiet question posed without a single word. Her gaze held steady as she let her thumb slide just slightly over Agatha’s knuckle, then finally released the book. It wasn’t just a line tossed—it was an invitation.

“If you ever want a reading buddy… I’m around. I’ve got strong opinions and zero shame.”

Agatha met her gaze, and for once, didn’t flinch.

“Noted,” she said. Her voice was quiet. But steady.

Across the room, Nicky shouted something about Froggy being elected as a reading time mayor.

The moment slipped. But not fully.

Agatha lingered near the poetry display, turning the same slim chapbook over in her hands without registering a single word. Her pulse still thrummed just beneath her skin, and she couldn’t stop replaying the unmistakable openness in Rio’s voice.

It had been a long time since someone looked at her like that. Like they weren’t trying to figure her out but simply inviting her to just... be.

She caught sight of Rio again across the store, crouched beside a small boy who was crying quietly over a snapped crayon. Rio’s voice was low, murmured. She didn’t try to distract him. She listened, then handed him a new crayon. One from her own stash, Agatha guessed. The boy nodded and sniffled and went back to coloring.

Agatha turned back to her shelf. Pretended again to browse. But her heart wouldn’t settle. She wasn’t sure what scared her more: how much she wanted Rio to be serious—or the quiet, terrifying thought that maybe she was.

A few minutes later, Rio drifted back toward her with Nicky’s drawing held carefully in one hand.

“I was told to hang this up in my shop,” she said lightly.

Agatha smiled. “He runs a tight ship.”

“I can tell,” Rio said. Then, softer: “Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”

Agatha looked at her. Really looked. Rio's voice wasn't flirtatious now. It was something else. Something steadier.

“I wanted to,” she said. “And I think maybe… I needed to.”

Rio held her gaze for a second longer, her expression open but undeniably charged. Her eyes flicked to Agatha’s mouth again, then lingered this time—an unspoken question, but not a demand. When she looked back up, there was something patient in her smile, something that said: I’ll wait until you’re ready.

Then she gave a small nod.

“Well,” she said, “you know where to find me.”

Agatha huffed a small laugh, the sound soft and surprised.

As Rio turned back to the kids, Agatha felt a shift. A tiny one. But real.

She wasn’t just circling the edge of something anymore. She’d taken a step in.

Vidal Swirl was brighter than Agatha expected. Not trendy, but lived-in—warm wood floors, string lights crisscrossing the ceiling, and a chalkboard menu behind the counter boasting flavors like Blueberry Basil, Cardamom Cream, and the infamous Fire Island Surprise. A tiny pride flag hung beside the tip jar, and one corner of the counter was covered in crayon drawings from local kids.

Nicky smushed his nose against the case. “That one. The white kind. No weirdy things!”

Rio appeared behind the counter wearing a coral tank and a smudge of chocolate on one wrist. She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Not even frog-shaped gummies on top?”

Nicky squinted real hard. “I never eat frogs.”

“Respect,” Rio said, straight-faced. “One vanilla, frog-free, coming up, sir.”

Agatha chuckled, stepping up beside him. “What’s the Fire Island Surprise?”

Rio grinned. “It’s technically edible. That’s all I’ll say.”

She moved behind the counter, and that’s when Agatha noticed it—Nicky’s drawing from the bookstore, taped carefully to the wall near the register.

Agatha raised an eyebrow.

Rio followed her gaze, then blushed—actual color, rising across her cheeks and down her neck. She reached for the scoop, but her voice dropped just slightly. “You, though... I have a surprise for you. Non-fire kind.”

Agatha looked down, smiling helplessly. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was stretching into something bigger than it had ever been allowed to be.

Rio scooped slowly, still watching her.

They settled at a small corner table by the window. When their order was ready—vanilla for Nicky, an affogato for Agatha, and something lavender and gold for someone in line—Rio came around the counter and slid into the seat beside them, stealing a slow spoonful of Agatha’s before she could protest.

“That’s mine,” Agatha said, biting back a smile.

Rio licked the spoon with infuriating calm. “You looked like you might want me to taste.”

“Did I?”

Rio leaned in just slightly, grin crooked. “I was feeling optimistic.”

Agatha stared at her, flustered—but she didn’t pull away. Not this time.

She offered to pay more than once, but Rio waved her off each time. Finally, with a casual flick of her wrist, Rio said, “This one’s on the house. First-time visitor discount.”

Agatha arched a brow. “That a real thing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rio said, deadpan. “But I might need your number... just in case I accidentally overcharge you next time.”

Agatha didn’t look away. Slowly, she reached for a napkin and pulled a pen from her purse.

She handed it over, neat handwriting and something warmer curling at the edges. Her number, written in ink—and just the barest hint of yes.

It was just past eight when Agatha padded barefoot into the kitchen. Nicky was freshly bathed and already asleep, tangled in his sheets with Froggy tucked under one arm and his thumb in his mouth. A soft, steady snore drifted down the hallway.

She poured herself a glass of red wine and leaned against the counter. Her phone sat face down beside her, silent.

She didn’t know what she was waiting for—maybe nothing. Maybe just a quiet moment to breathe, to let her mind drift somewhere it hadn’t dared go in years.

Then the phone buzzed.

Rio: Sooo I might’ve made a mistake.

Agatha blinked. Tapped back.

Agatha: Oh?

A photo came in. Rio, grinning, holding up a pint of ice cream labeled in Sharpie. “Agatha (test batch)”

Below it, scrawled in smaller letters: fig, espresso, dark chocolate, wishful thinking

Rio: Made a new flavor. Was gonna call it something else. But it kept reminding me of you. Ate too much. Now I’m wide awake.

Rio: Any chance you want to come over and distract me? Since you’re already in my head.

Agatha’s brows rose, amused. She typed slowly.

Agatha: You’re offering me insomnia as a treat?

Rio: You wound me up. I’m offering you a private pool and some ice cream with your name on it... literally ;)

Rio: I’ll bring towels. Agatha: Fine. But if I end up wide awake too, that’s on you.

Fifteen minutes later, Agatha knocked softly on the apartment next door. Lilia opened it wearing curlers and a kaftan.

“You’re either about to commit a crime,” she said, “or finally live a little.”

Agatha smiled, sheepish. “Could you come over and keep an ear out for a few hours? He’s already out cold.”

Lilia looked her up and down. “In a swimsuit and shorts at almost nine at night?”

Agatha glanced down at herself, suddenly unsure how to explain what she was doing.

Lilia just waved a hand. “Not my business, honey. Go. And don’t you dare come home early.”

Agatha blushed. “It’s not—”

“It is,” Lilia said firmly. “Let it be.”

She grabbed her keys, locked her door, and headed straight into Agatha’s apartment like she’d been on standby for weeks.

The pool was quiet, the air thick with summer warmth. Soft underwater lights shimmered beneath the surface, and a few delicate string lanterns glowed along the walls—casting golden halos on the water like a dream half-remembered.

Agatha stepped inside and paused.

Rio was floating in the shallow end, half-submerged, her body stretched out with slow, easy grace. The dark straps of her bikini clung to sun-warmed skin, modest by definition, not by effect. Her hair fanned behind her, damp and loose, and moonlight from the skylight kissed the curves of her shoulders, her collarbone, her stomach—soft and glowing with heat and chlorine.

Agatha swallowed. Quietly, deeply.

“Nice of you to dress down,” Agatha murmured.

Rio turned, smile lazy and pleased. “You came.”

“You named a flavor after me.”

Rio swam to the edge, arms resting along the tiles. “It was either that or ask if I could kiss you someday.” Her grin curved, light and teasing. “The pint felt... safer. But maybe not as fun.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Though next time... I might skip the ice cream.” She smirked. “Might be sweeter ways to spend the night. Fewer calories, too.”

Agatha stepped out of her sandals. Her suit was simple, black, with a low back and a neckline that made her feel more like herself than she had in years. She slipped into the pool slowly, the water cool but welcome. Rio didn’t look away.

“If I stare too long,” Rio murmured, “just remind me I’m still coming down from that pint. Lot of sugar. No self-control.”

Agatha met her gaze. “What if I like it?”

Rio blinked, then smiled. “Then I’ll take my time.”

They drifted in the quiet water, the occasional ripple brushing against their arms. Neither of them spoke at first, and that silence felt comfortable—an extension of the hum between them. Agatha watched the shimmer of moonlight play on Rio’s shoulder. Her eyes followed the line of her collarbone, the soft rise of her chest as she floated. She felt warm, too warm, and not from the water.

Rio tilted her head. “You always this quiet?”

Agatha smiled faintly. “Only when I’m trying to be brave.”

“I like brave,” Rio murmured. Her tone was light, but her gaze—steady and slow—wasn’t teasing anymore.

Agatha let herself drift a little closer. “What if I don’t know how to be brave?”

Rio’s voice was quiet. “Then I’ll wait. But I’ll still flirt. And sneak glances at your ass. Fair warning.”

That earned a surprised laugh from Agatha, breathy and small. She hadn’t felt this alive in years.

“I’m not used to this,” Agatha admitted.

“To what?”

“Someone like you.”

Rio’s brow lifted. “Someone like me?”

“Kind. Funny. Gorgeous. And… actually interested?” Agatha gave a soft huff, self-conscious.

Rio reached forward, fingertips barely brushing Agatha’s wrist beneath the water. “I'm very interested, Agatha. It’s not a trick.”

Agatha met her eyes. “No?”

Rio’s voice softened. “No pressure. I’m just here. In case you want company. Or someone to float with. Or talk to.” She paused, then added with a teasing smile, “Or, you know... maybe make out with. Eventually. If the mood strikes.”

Agatha let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her lips curved—not quite a smile, but close. She looked at Rio, really looked at her, and the warmth in Rio’s eyes nearly undid her.

“Thank you,” Agatha said quietly.

Then, after a beat, her voice low: “But just so you know… the mood’s getting there.”

They floated together in silence, the moonlight shimmering on the surface like flecks of silver leaf. Agatha’s breathing slowed, her pulse thrumming like distant thunder. She was aware of everything—Rio’s nearness, the soft brush of their legs as they drifted, the way the night seemed to hold its breath around them.

Quietly, Agatha broke the silence with, “I think I’ve always known I was gay. But it felt easier to pretend I wasn’t. To focus on school, or work, or Nicky. To make my life small enough that nothing could shake it.”

Rio treaded water beside her, her expression soft. “You don’t have to explain.”

Agatha reached up, brushing her damp hair from her face. “It wasn’t Ralph. My ex-husband. He was a good man. Kind. But I never let myself want more. Never let myself even imagine this.” She paused. “You make me imagine it.”

Rio’s hand found hers under the water. Not gripping—just touching. Grounding.

“I just—” Agatha looked at her. “It took me longer than I wanted. But I’m here now. And you make me feel…”

Rio waited.

Agatha’s throat bobbed. “Happy.”

Then Agatha reached forward. Her fingers brushed along the edge of Rio’s jaw, slid into the damp silk of her hair, and lingered. She looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the quiet question waiting in her eyes.

So she kissed her.

It was slow at first, tentative. A brush of lips that trembled with withheld longing. But when Rio sighed softly into it, Agatha deepened the kiss, her hand tightening in Rio’s hair. It then became need.

Rio responded with a low hum, a sound that curled around Agatha’s ribs. One hand found her waist, the other rose to cup her cheek, and they pulled each other closer in the water, bodies aligning with the kind of grace that only comes from finally giving in.

When they finally pulled apart, they stayed close with noses brushing and breath mingling. Rio’s eyes were shining, her smile dazed like she couldn’t believe any of this was real.

Agatha whispered, voice catching, “I think I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you said Nicky could be a jellyfish.”

Rio laughed softly, a sound full of joy and disbelief, then kissed her again—gentler, slower—like she was memorizing it. When she pulled back, she rested their foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut.

“You want to split the pint?” she asked, voice thick with affection.

Agatha smiled, her heart too full. “I want to share everything with you.”

They waded to the steps and settled side by side, feet trailing in the warm water. The pint sat between them, melting slightly, passed back and forth as their fingers brushed in a quiet, perfect rhythm.

Each touch lingered. Every glance brimmed with something unspoken and blooming. And each messy spoonful came with a soft laugh, a gentle wipe of a thumb, a kiss that tasted like dark chocolate and something sweeter.

The last swim class of the summer started with Nicky shouting, “It’s my pool now!”

By the end, Coach Rio let him blow the whistle—twice—before she laughed and ran after him with a towel.

Agatha sat on the bleachers, one leg crossed over the other, iced coffee in hand and one of Rio’s hoodies draped over her sundress. It hung loose and lived-in, the sleeves pushed up, the faint scent of lavender and chlorine still clinging to the cuffs. She wasn’t pretending to read flyers today. She was watching them—her two favorite people in the world, wide open and full of light.

Nicky’s giggles echoed around the tiled room as Rio scooped him up like a sack of flour and dunked him gently one last time. He surfaced shrieking with laughter, goggles askew.

“Okay, Jellyfish,” Rio said. “Let’s towel off before you flood the lobby.”

Nicky burst through the double doors a few minutes later, soggy and radiant.

“Mommy, Mommy! I did the big float all by myself!” Nicky shouted, slipping a little on the tile and catching himself like a superhero. “AND Froggy says I get a popsicle and root beer. Both!”

“Did he now?” Agatha said, standing to brush imaginary lint from her lap. “We’ll see.”

Behind him, Rio appeared with a towel slung over one shoulder, damp hair clinging to her cheeks. Her shirt stuck in places Agatha now knew by heart. She lit up when she spotted Agatha in the hoodie.

“You wear it better than I do,” Rio said, voice soft and playful as she stepped closer.

Agatha smiled, slow and sure. “I know.”

Rio laughed under her breath, like she couldn’t help it—and maybe didn’t want to.

They hadn’t made a big deal out of it. But sometime between the first kiss and the first time Agatha stayed the night, this part—the ease of it—had started to settle in. Like joy didn’t always have to be new to feel overwhelming.

Nicky tugged on Agatha’s sleeve. “We still goin’ to the movies, Mommy? You promised.”

“Yep,” Rio said with a wink. “Popcorn and root beer—my treat, little man.”

They stepped out into the heat—sunlight pooling on the sidewalk, the soft smell of sunscreen and cut grass drifting through the air. Behind them, Rio locked the center doors, then glanced sideways.

Agatha caught her looking at Nicky—just ahead, swinging Froggy by the leg, humming to himself.

She reached out and took Rio’s hand.

“I want this forever,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Rio didn’t miss a beat. She just squeezed her hand, steady and sure. “You’ve got it, babe.”

As they walked toward the car, Agatha slowed. She turned back toward the pool doors—the glass still fogged, her reflection faint and layered over memory. She glanced down at the hoodie sleeves bunched at her wrists. Her hands looked the same. But now she saw them for what they were—capable. Chosen. Free.

She let out a breath. It caught for a moment—like it had to climb its way through years of silence—but then it came. And with it, a quiet smile.

Not long ago, she’d stood in that same lobby, wondering if she’d missed her chance to live honestly. To be loved fully. To love in return.

But now—

Now Rio’s hand was warm in hers. Nicky’s laughter echoed down the sidewalk. And Agatha knew, deep in her bones, that she wasn’t lost.

The water hadn’t changed.

But she had.

She wasn’t drifting anymore.

And as they reached the car, the line came back to her—dog-eared and underlined, from a book she hadn’t meant to finish so quickly: “She looked at her, and something settled.”

It had. Quietly, completely, and without question.

[reignpage]

South District, Gibraltar 3rd Martius Day 24 10:30am

I saw her.

I met her.

She was waiting for me in the water, her head all but submerged, and watching me. It was the strangest thing. Moonlight shining down, reflecting off the gentle water, and a cool wind blowing between us, I felt entranced. Eyes fixed on each other, I could do nothing but wade in the water, soaking my trousers as I pushed through and delved deeper and deeper until I was within arm's reach from her.

We spoke.

Well, at first, we didn't say a thing. None would blame me, I'd hope. After all, I was mesmerised. She was mesmerising. For weeks now, I had been wondering ceaselessly what she looked like, truly looked like, and not just through the blur of near-death and sea water. I doubted my own eyes. What if her hair was completely different than I had remembered? What if her skin was not as smooth and soft as I felt it had been?

So, for what felt like hours, we stayed there, staring at each other. We were so close to the shore, I could still reach the sandy floor. I understood even then that she had likely realised I couldn't swim and compromised for my comfort. That realisation was what urged me deeper into the water, I think.

The sea was warm. Or maybe it was cold. I can't seem to remember that detail very well.

She has a tail!

Fish-like with fins and scales and ever so slightly glowing.

It was difficult to tell in the blanket of the night exactly what colours her scales were but they were light and almost green-seeming by her waist, much thinner and transparent, until they thickened and darkened into dark blue as they descended down where legs should be. I so badly wanted to reach out and feel but I feared it would not be proper.

Her torso and up looked human enough. She had arms, ample breasts, a neck, jaw, lips, nose, eyes, sharp Elven ears, hair and gills (I think they were gills, I'd have to ask for clarification). Another oddity she had, though, was the glittering material that resembled jellyfish tendrils wrapped around her chest. A binding, it seems. I could see more than I should have but she didn't seem to mind the discrepancy in our modesty. Perhaps it was common among her people.

She reached out first — it seems she is always making the first move between us.

I wish I was bolder. That's a mark of a true researcher. As Professor Watanabe, of Divination 101, loves to say, 'Bravery is the foundation of Eden. It takes only one act of courage and one leap made in faith, to begin something new.'

He'll be proud of her, at least.

Webbed and with a pearlescent sheen to her skin, which shone under the moonlight, she had raised her hand, held it up in the air and showed me who she is without words. I knew, without needing to ask, what she wanted.

Our hands pressed, I felt her warmth once more.

There was something in the air or in the water that coated our skin. I could not and cannot place it, but I was electrocuted. Zapped and startled, I had backed away, not in fright, to be clear, but because I was suddenly so aware of her and of myself. I know now that there was not a second, even just one, where I felt afraid. Me. The man who practiced every experiment we were due to have in class weeks prior so I could get every step and variable right, so I would not reveal myself a fool or, worse, injure another.

My hair must have been a mess from the tossing and turning I had been doing, my skin ghastly pale, whereas she was gorgeous magnificent pretty.

She swam closer, her nose (she had one! whatever could an underwater creature need a nose for, I couldn't ask, what if it was rude?) brushed mine, and a smile took over her expressions. Splashing water onto me with playful giggles, I felt a wall come down between us. It was ridiculous, sudden, and out of place, but oddly fun.

I could never confer this information to any respectful scholar since it absolutely defies our rules about fraternisation with subject matters. Could you imagine the look on Professor Yaga's face if, when asked how I went about building rapport with a representative of the world I'd been chasing, I replied, by splish-splashing!

The horror.

Well, anyway, feeling braver, I told her my name, my origins, how I'm from another world, and my purpose. I wanted to be honest. Somehow, I felt I owed it to her. She did not look surprised.

When asked about this, she said, many have come before me, but none have ever gotten as close as I have. I was taken aback by her openness, though I dared not say a thing about it, lest she retracts her transparency. Every single detail she offered, I consumed eagerly, inching closer and closer until the two of us had drifted further and further away from shore, aided by her strength. She allowed me to hold on to her arms and some odd current or other held me up, keeping me afloat.

That was very interesting, in hindsight. It seemed she, and likely her people too (whom I noticed she didn't talk much about, seemingly out of a need to protect them) had Vis, which we know to be the ability to harness the energy inherent within the soul, should they be awakened and sensitive to the forces around them. Her kind are truly advanced. The academic board will be very interested to hear about that.

They'll also be very interested to hear that I have found Atlantis. Or, rather, will come to find it.

She is the key.

I asked her why she had saved me, had risked herself and her people for a stranger. A look washed over her. I don't know what it was, but she said, she didn't know. In truth, there was nothing special about me at first glance — I was yet another bumbling student, too engrossed in what is hidden to understand why it is. I search for what is out of reach and ignore what is in my grasp. Of course, that hurt to hear. Being told I was just like everyone else before me stung in a way I hadn't expected it to.

Perhaps sensing my disappointment, she further clarified, still swimming us around, never venturing too far, that there was something different about me. Her people didn't understand her fascination, why she'd watch me. They thought she was being overly cautious but she was just drawn to me.

She laughed when I blushed.

I wanted to make her laugh again.

Apparently, she also felt bad that I was so close to finding them that when I fell over board, she thought it only fair to give me a second chance. For that, for her, I will be eternally grateful. And if time ever came that I can return the favour, I shall not hesitate.

Feeling bolder, I asked her if that haunting tune came from her. She nodded, a little shy, I think. She explained that she thought she might never see me again. That the last student who had gotten hurt was whisked back home expeditiously. That wouldn't happen, I told her. Not to me. Not now. And all because of her. Because she had been so kind as to save me, to give me hope, to let me in, even just an inch.

We drew quiet eventually, just floating in the water, under the moon's light. I never let go of her arms. I felt a peace I had never before, a tranquility I knew not existed. If I could bottle it up, I would have. In her, in this stranger, I felt an odd sense of belonging I never knew I needed. For that too, I could never thank her enough.

I had so much to say. So many questions to ask but, late as it was, I had to part ways with her. She understood. It seemed she already knew our time would be short.

Having left, I found, for the first night in a long time, comfort in sleep. There was no melancholy song overwhelming me, no stress from the fear that I was lost, searching for something that could never be found, that might not even exist, and no feeling of loneliness for the first time in my life.

This is not the last time we will see of each other. I'd like to search for a solution to my inability to flourish on her turf, as they say. I don't want to keep relying on her to carry the burden of this budding, strictly professional relationship. At the present moment, we more closely resemble a knowledgable aunt and the pitiful idiot nephew. I'd very much like to stand (or rather, swim) as equals. I don't want her to see me as someone who needs help all the time.

So to the books I will go. I do not have access to the library of Eden but Haibara might be able to help, he simply has to find out where the library is. After I've solved that problem, my mission seems clear.

First, write a letter to Professor Yaga

Second, build rapport with the woman whose name I now realise I never got the name of....

First, find out her name.

Second, write a letter to Professor Yaga.

And third, get her to lead me to her home and grant me permission to research her civilisation.

My people need to know Atlantis has been found.

[coraline-jones353]

Your ink adorns my skin

Heyyy so nobody writes for Henry Hart/Kid Danger so imma do it myself.

Prompt: Soulmate Au, Whatever is written on one soulmates skin is written on the others.

Summary: In which the reader is an inspiring tattoo artist and draws on themselves for practice when bored in class. One day Henry has to switch classes mid period and sees them drawing exactly what is appearing on his skin, his favorite animal. (for the purpose of this his favorite animal will be a jellyfish because I couldn't find anything on his real one 🫶🏼)

Warnings: Cursing, they/them pronouns, use of Y/n

Fluff

"I can't believe they are switching my class again!" Henry complained at lunch to his closest friends, Charlotte and Jasper. "It's only because there's too many kids besides that class learns more." She says rolling her eyes and taking a bite of her sandwich. "Yeah that means more work" Henry said with a groan. "Dude your soulmate really needs to put down the sharpie it's all over your arm." Jasper mumbles while food sloppily falls out his mouth, at this Charlotte makes a face of disgust. "Jasp I love the tattoos they do, besides there only on one arm and have no words." Henry states defensively

After lunch Henry went to his new biology class hoping he knew someone there. He scanned the room for people he knew but found none. He instead sat in the only empty seat, which was so conveniently right next to y/n.

"Hey, can I sit here?" he asks grabbing hold of the chair next to them. They nod slowly not making eye contact. Henry sits down sensing the vibe that they don't wanna talk.

The class begins and Mrs. Dahl goes on a boring lecture about mitosis and meosis. Mid way through y/n takes out there black sharpie and starts drawing.

It took Henry about 10 minutes to notice it but once he does he can't keep his eyes off of them. They had pulled up their sleeve to reveal multiple sharpie marks along their arm and hand; each one of them matching one on his own arm.

"Hey" he whispers "Nice Jellyfish." while nodding towards y/n's arm. "Thanks." they mumble not looking over at him to see his already rolled up sleeve. "You're an excellent artist, you should consider teaching art lessons." he mentions trying desperately to get their attention.

"Man what do you want? An entire conversation about my drawings-" They state harshly while looking over at him to see the marks that adorn their arms on his. "Holy shit" They stated very loudly causing everyone to look over at the pair of soulmates. Henry snickers at her remark, while the teacher stares at her with a disapproving look.

After class the pair found out they both had a free period. So, naturally they decided to take the time to figure out "the situation" as y/n liked to call it.

"Now how come I haven't seen all my drawings on your arms?" y/n says as she walks to a table in the library. "Idk I usually have short sleeves." Henry says sitting across from them. "ya know you're kinda cute." y/n states "Oh so you think I'm cute?" Henry says wiggling his eyebrows at them teasingly. "Omg no don't get cocky on me, Hart." They say cracking a smile for the first time since he met them. "Your smiles beautiful." Henry says staring at them enchanted by their smile. They look at him with a warmth he's never felt before. He can't wait to get to know his soulmate more.

Sincerely, Coraline Jones 🐈‍⬛

[catladyoftheyr]

Too Sweet Ch 5

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4~

Harvey x gn reader

Summary: you get a letter from Harvey inviting you to join him at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. You sit together and share a bottle of wine as you watch the jellyfish.

Tw: alcohol mention, drinking, tipsy but not drunk

A/n: I headcanon that he had Elliot help him write the letter bc he was nervous. And now after this chapter you’re both in that weird “what are we” space 😈😩

Word count: 2.2 k (this got out of hand whoops)

It felt like your first summer in the Valley had come to pass far too quickly. The air had a light chill to it and the leaves were showing the first signs of changing colors. You pulled the covers around you when you slid out of bed, your makeshift cape dragging across the floor as you flipped through the channels on the tv. The man on the screen was warning that summer crops would start to die soon, and that now was a great time to start thinking about crops for the harvest season. You’d already bid a sad farewell to your tomatoes and blueberries, and made a note to get pumpkin seeds from Pierre. You changed the channel and a full figured woman informed the audience on the proper way to make an omelet, boasting about a secret technique that guaranteed success.

Your stomach rumbled as if making a formal request. You rummaged through the fridge for eggs and milk. You gave the ingredients a thorough whisk before adding them to the pan. You diligently followed along as the woman on screen instructed the correct way to flip and fold the eggs. You added cheese and slid your work onto a plate. You’d never been much of a cook and the food was slightly misshapen. A cautious first bite proved it more than edible, tasting much better than it looked. You dug in eagerly and flipped to the weather channel.

The man pointed to different temperatures behind him and droned on about a cold front coming in this week. Your finger hovered over the power button when he declared that the evening temperature would be pleasantly warm, perfect for the moonlight jelly festival in Pelican Town. Your curiosity peaked, imagining the possibilities of what it could entail. You’d heard folks in town talking about a jellyfish migration, but didn’t know any of the details.

You opened your door and noticed the flag was raised on the mailbox. You opened the flap and thumbed through the stack of envelopes. Even in the countryside junk mail followed you, glossy ads from JojaMart boasting slashed prices and random goods. Even Pierre shelled out for printed coupons in an attempt to compete. A letter from Mayor Lewis invited you to join the townsfolk at the beach tonight for the festival. The bundle of mail hovered over the recycle bin when you were caught off guard by your cat weaving between your legs. You sighed as the papers fell from your hand and scattered on the floor. You knelt down to gather them when an unopened envelope caught your eye. Picking it up you realized it was from Harvey. You carefully tore it open and began to read.

“ I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing to invite you to join me this evening at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Everyone is gathering at the beach tonight to watch the migration of jellyfish. It’s a special occasion that marks the change of seasons in the Valley. I’d be delighted if you’d like to sit with me to share in this memorable experience. Cross the wooden bridge and meet me by the tide pools at 10 pm if you accept my invitation.

Best Regards, Harvey.”

Your face flushed and you pressed the letter close to your chest before carefully refolding it. Was this… a date? You shook your head quickly as if to clear the thought from your head. You wouldn’t let yourself jump to conclusions or indulge in your delusions. It was a perfectly platonic invite to sit together at a festival. Nothing more and nothing less. You took the letter and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a heart.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. You’d been busy prepping the farm for the change of seasons you’d hardly noticed the sun had set. You hurried inside to take a shower before you made your way to the beach. You wrapped the towel around your body as you stepped out of the steam; your hair was dripping when you looked in the mirror so you wrapped a towel around your head, hoping the last trace of summer heat would speed things up.

“What do I wear, what do I wear??” You mumbled to yourself as you rummaged through your closet. Something in your gut said farm clothes were out of the question tonight. You pushed aside hangers roughly and held a myriad of clothes against your form in the mirror before tossing them to the floor. After much deliberation you settled on a cotton button up and one of your nice pairs of shorts. You slid on a pair of sandals and turned to head out the door. You paused before exiting, wondering if you should bring a gift or a blanket to sit on. You yanked a spare top sheet from your closet and rooted through the fridge for something to share. You found a small bottle of your favorite wine you’d brought with you from the city. It was admittedly cheap and sugary, but you’d never been one for dry wine. You’d been saving it for a special occasion, but tonight seemed well enough.

You made it to the beach just before ten. You gasped softly, taking in the sight of dozens of small candles floating in the water. The soft glow illuminated the shoreline and the wooden dock by Willie’s shop. Most attendees had gathered on the pier to be as close as possible to the water. You said polite hellos as you headed east. That side of the beach was usually inaccessible, but someone had laid down several wooden planks to form a makeshift bridge. You hesitated before crossing and hoped it was sturdier than it looked. Despite some creaks and wobbles, you made it across safely and turned to scan for Harvey.

The tide pools took up most of the area, leaving small patches of sand near the shore free. You saw Harvey standing, pacing really, in a spot away from the crowd. He seemed more anxious than usual as he patrolled in a figure eight with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Could this be because of you? Maybe this really was a date.

“Hi, Harvey” you called as you approached. The doctor stopped in his tracks with a start. You think you saw his cheeks flush pink but couldn’t tell for certain in the moonlight.

“Oh! You came!” He looked surprised, like he’d been worried you wouldn’t show up. “I mean not that I was expecting you to not come- I just thought maybe you didn’t see my letter, or maybe you weren’t interested, or maybe you didn’t want to feel obligated, or-“

“Hey. It's okay. I promise” you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “I got the letter this morning and I want you to know that I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I really like hanging out with you, Harvey.” You tried your best to sound cool and confident. Truthfully your stomach was doing backflips and you hoped you weren’t coming on too strongly.

Harvey seemed to deflate a smidge, visibly releasing some of the tension he usually held in his body with a soft sigh. “I’m glad you could make it. Is this spot okay? I don’t like the crowds very much” he confessed. “We should be able to get a good view of the jellyfish from here. They’re attracted to the lights.”

“This is perfect.” You pulled your bag off your shoulders and produced the wrinkled sheet. “I brought this for us to sit on.” Harvey immediately helped to spread the sheet over the sand and gestured for you to take a seat first. You sat criss cross applesauce on the sheet and Harvey took a place beside you, mimicking your form. If either of you moved much your knees would knock together.

You dug out the bottle of wine from your bag and held it out. “Oh, and I brought this too. I thought we could share it. I brought it with me when I moved. It’s my favorite kind. I was going to save it for a special occasion but I thought it’d be nice to have tonight”

“I think that’s a nice gesture.” Harvey took the bottle from you and rotated it in his hands, examining the label.

“It’s cheap, I know,” you explained sheepishly. “I like the sweet stuff. Oh and um it’s screw top so you don’t need a corkscrew or anything.” You were suddenly embarrassed by your taste in alcohol. The wine was popular among teenagers and college students for its low price and easy access. Nor exactly romantic beach date material.

Harvey didn’t seem to mind and peeled the label and unscrewed the top. He looked at you quizzically and you suddenly remembered you’d neglected to bring cups. “Oh my god I completely forgot to bring cups! Um we don’t have to drink it tonight it’s totally fine you can just screw the lid on or-“

“I know I’m a doctor but I’m okay drinking from the bottle if you are” he teased, this time interrupting you. You blushed bright red and felt hot, but took a breath and regained your cool.

“I’m okay with that,” you giggled. He passed the bottle back to you and held up an invisible cup as if to cheers. You met his hand with your free one and clinked your imaginary glasses.

“You first.”

You took a small swig and felt the warmth of the alcohol spread immediately. You passed the bottle to Harvey and he flushed as soon as the wine entered his system.

“So does this festival happen every year?”

“It does. It’s a sort of celebration of the end of summer and a way to welcome fall to the valley. When the jellyfish migrate, then you know that the seasons have officially started their transition.”

“It reminds me of bird migration and flying south for the winter. It makes me want to migrate too. I hate the cold to be honest. I’m not a winter person.”

“It can be sad to see summer end, but the town’s fall festivities are some of my favorites. I love attending the Stardew Valley fair and seeing people from all over the Valley come together. It’s a great opportunity to see the fruits of everyone's labor. Are you going to grow any pumpkins on your farm?”

You nodded. “I want to make a pumpkin pie from scratch this year. And I’m looking forward to Spirits Eve. I heard Abigail talking about a haunted maze the other day. She said it was pretty scary even for her last year.”

Harvey shuddered. “That maze gives me the creeps. I’m not a fan of being scared on purpose.”

You were about to respond when you heard Mayor Lewis raise his voice to make an announcement. “I’m lighting the candle boat. The jellies should start to appear any moment now.” As if on cue you spotted a small blue figure swimming in the ocean.

“Look! A jelly!” You pointed eagerly to the fish you’d seen and watched in awe as two more appeared.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harvey asked. More and more of the jellyfish began to swim south to warmer waters, brilliant shades of blue swirling underneath the surface. You were both rendered speechless as you watched them make their way through the sea. The spot Harvey had picked gave a prime view, and it seemed that anyone else on this side of the beach had traversed toward the pier when Lewis had lit the candle boat. The two of you were alone by the tide pools, taking in the sight together.

You watched together as the jellyfish slowly disappeared, exchanging words about the beauty of nature as you finished the bottle of wine. You were warm and bubbly from the alcohol in your blood and felt emboldened. You moved your hand so that it brushed against Harvey’s and interlaced your fingers with his. You leaned in to whisper. “Thank you for inviting me.”

You sat with your fingers locked for several minutes as the very last jellyfish receded behind the horizon. When you finally let go, Harvey folded the sheet for you to place in your bag. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, Harvey. The farm is past the clinic anyways.”

“Nonsense. It's just past the bus stop, and I insist.”

“Well if you insist” you giggled, still tipsy.

You and Harvey walked quietly back to the farm. You tried to let him go once you reached the property line, but he insisted on walking you to your door as it was “the gentlemanly thing to do”. The two of you stood on the porch of the old farmhouse, illuminated by the moon and the porch light.

“Goodnight, Harvey. Thank you for walking me home. And thank you for inviting me to join you tonight. I had a wonderful time.” You acted on impulse as you pulled the doctor in for a hug. His warmth enveloped you and he pulled you tighter, his hands gripping your back. He smelled like wine and salt water. You inhaled deeply before letting go.

“Goodnight” Harvey seemed as if he was about to turn to head home, but paused and placed a light kiss on your forehead. He looked at you with warm eyes before he turned down the path back into town.

[cockroach1618]

Jellyfish 🪼

I drew it with children's felt-tip pens in physics class, and overall I liked the result. I love jellyfish. Beautiful creatures. They just get carried away by the current.

Many of them are immortal. They could live forever, but there are many natural enemies in the seas that kill them. These creatures live in almost all seas and oceans. Some species can also be found in fresh water.

The closest relatives of jellyfish are corals.

Some jellyfish can glow in the dark. The largest jellyfish measured off the coast of the United States had a dome diameter of 2.3 m and a tentacle length of 36.5 m. (This is a Cyanea capillata/Cyanea arctica).

[felix-going-insane]

i found my old draft for my book

Estelle Paris Rosi (POV)

I shivered in anticipation as I stood before the Golden Arches of  Rosewood Academy. Inhaling sharply, I wobbled towards the steps, almost immediately falling to the ground. As I braced myself for impact, I landed on weaved tendrils of vine and plant, cushioning my fall. I looked up to see a girl with soft pink curls and blue eyes looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?” She asked.  I quickly nodded and brushed the dust off my clothes when I caught a glimpse of a very familiar crest pinned on her uniform.  “ You’re Elizabeth Briar!?” I asked, probably a bit too loudly, people turning back. 

“I am. You’re Aelia?” she asked inquisitively, as I cringed at the old nickname. Being called “Aelia” felt like a reminder of the constant years of being trapped in that house of glass, years spent playing instruments I hated, singing songs of freedom I'll never have. I simply nodded and turned towards the glistening archway, the blinding shine of the sun and gold greeting me with challenge, as Elizabeth shielded her eyes with her forearm, squinting and eyes watering. “How in death’s domain are you not crying right now?”  “Comes with the gift I suppose” I shrugged. A shrill bell resounded harshly in the air. It was time to go. I shook her hand, smiled and walked up the steps. After an awkward few minutes swerving out of the way of seniors and other just-as- lost students, my eyes found the class I was supposed to be at: an engraving in a foreign language I didn't understand decorated the weathered door as i saw a glimpse of my life for the next 3 years.

 I saw Libby, sitting on a table, chatting with a blue- haired boy, smiling and giggling. As I entered, libby waved me over enthusiastically, practically dragging me over to a small huddle of four. “This is Hosuh.” She points over to the blue-haired boy, as he just waves and smiles serenely. “I’m nyx” A girl responded, not bothering to look up from her jacket, brushing her hands on the leather. ewewew its so old n bad i dont like the expositon at ALL but yeah, i havent posted my writing in forever @just-a-silly-jellyfish @st4rrylavendersk1es

[squidsinashirt]

i still don’t understand how you can like sharks. they scare me and it makes me afraid to go in the water. they’re terrifying bloodthirsty monsters and we should get rid of them to make the waters safe.

Oh yeah, sure… 🤨 this bloodthirsty monster’s name is Imara, she is part of a conservation programme in Mozambique. Tremble with fear at this viciousness. See my life flash before my eyes.

Brilliant idea. Let’s just violently eradicate an entire species because they make you uncomfortable. That always works out great for the environment, right? Let’s just go full supervillain on the ocean. What could possibly go wrong?

Sharks aren’t some Hollywood horror trope. They’re not lurking in the shallows with your name on a fin. They’re apex predators which, in case you missed science class, means they keep the ocean healthy. They control species below them, keep populations balanced, and help maintain coral reefs. You yank them out of the equation? The whole system starts crashing down and fast. Coral reefs start to die, jellyfish overpopulate, fish stocks drop or explode out of control - and that spirals all the way back to us. To our food systems. To the economies of entire coastal communities. Millions of people depend on the ocean, and sharks are a huge part of what keeps that system running.

This might come as a surprise to you Anon, but just because we happen to think we’re the smartest life forms on the planet, and we’re used to being top of the food chain because of it… doesn’t mean we actually are.

I don’t care if they scare you. They don’t exist to cater to your comfort. It’s a living system - powerful, fragile, ancient - and sharks are part of it’s heartbeat. Everything on this little spinning rock of ours deserves their place, and we also need to remember ours.

Sharks are ridiculously intelligent in ways that we, as humans with much poorer senses and much less adapted physical forms, cannot imagine. But they also feel pain, have emotional intelligence, distinct personalities and form relationships. They’re clever, they have amazing problem solving abilities and learn socially from each other.

And they are the furthest thing from bloodthirsty monsters. They’re mindblowingly powerful predators who have evolved to be at the very top of their game, yes, and they outrank us in the ocean every single time. But they’re just trying to go about their lives.

You want to know the truth? Sharks are some of the most misunderstood creatures on the planet. I’ve spent years underwater, sometimes up close with them, and the number of times I’ve actually felt threatened? Zero. Most of the time, they don’t want anything to do with you. You’re not food to them. You’re just a weird, noisy, uncoordinated mammal in their space. Like, what are you even doing down here?!

But you know who is dangerous in that relationship? We are. Humans used to kill over one hundred million sharks a year. A year. That’s nearly three sharks a second. For soup. For sport, for a trophy. For superstition. And all because we bought into this idea that they’re monsters. And it’s only just starting to get better, we’re only just catching up with how to protect them from ourselves.

So you tell me who the real bloodthirsty monsters are.

[t-the-ring-master]

Know what ya’ll, its Mermay, I’ve done nothing for it due to not having the energy… so here’s an OC drabble on one of my OC’s ya’ll have never heard of, EVERYONE! MEET AARON!

Hang on, gotta start this thing right.

Oh, and I imagine reader to be female but I never mention it. And it’s kinda platonic anyways so safe for anyone to read honestly.

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦

Oc Drabble! Mermay addition!

Requests: closed

Asks: open

Tag list: none

Tw: cannibalism, mentions of eating people and other merfolk/humans. Bro is a trader lol. He talks about eating other creatures a lot. He likes to lore drop like crazy and over share… me too Aaron, me too. There is a human mentioned to be drowning but bro lived. I’m my own beta reader right now, bear with me please. He’s normally way more aggressive but I wanted him to be a bit more toned down since this interaction takes place a few months after you meet.

Aaron is a very large transparent fish type creature so erm… yeah he creepy. I’ve been into subnautica again so I guess you can count him as an alien fish thing? I’m gonna make this an x reader because I can. This will take place on an alien planet, although originally he used to just be a deepsea merman. Enjoy! If you have any questions or ideas for him, my asks are open! He will also become a requestable OC soon too!

I don’t know how to accurately describe his size within the story, so for reference, he is about as large as young adult male humpback whale. Bro big.

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Your crew and yourself had set off on a voyage around six years ago now. Your mission unclear, as well as if or when you’d ever return to earth.

Although, it seems the answer is now going to be never with the situation you’ve found yourself in. Your crew, your ship, and most supplies are now all gone. Now stuck on an ocean like planet with just little material left to work with. Although, there has been one “helpful” face in this.

An odd, and very large alien like creature that refers to himself as Aaron.

He is huge, completely see through, reminding you of the type of fish that cause nightmares, having an anglers lure resting on his forehead, fins residing on his ears, neck, leading down his spine and some smaller ones on his more human like arms.

His sharp teeth although similar to his body were more bone like, although thin and razor sharp, and sitting within two rows. His hair… wasn’t exactly hair either, it instead reminded you of a jellyfish or the type of organisms that created one larger one, giving him long and oddly iridescent hair, constantly draping his form.

Due to him being basically see through, he seemed scrawny at a distance, but in reality he was incredibly strong, and he liked to show it off.

You had met him when you had first set out into open water in a spare dingy you had found in the escape pod. Running into a group of more hostile aquatic creatures, more animal like. You assumed you were done for until you felt something ripple the boat underneath and watched as the pod vanished deeper into the water one by one. After about a half hour of it, that’s when he appeared picking his teeth with his long claws like he just finished a large plate at a buffet.

“My my, I haven’t eaten that well in months! Gulpers aren’t my first choice of meal usually but beggars can’t be choosers… Now, let’s see what we have here. A client, or food.”

The beast said, lowering himself to get a good look at the dingy with just you on board, scared out of your mind that you were going to be his next meal.

“Oh! A human! And a living one at that, last one I saw was already picked off by snatchers!.

I suppose it’s rude to you if I don’t properly introduce myself. You can call me Aaron, a more human name I was given years ago from another human. I am your local ‘lethal class’ creature, but I have also been called a merman, or merfolk by some. Apparently it’s the closest you can get to describe what I am to you people.”

Aaron said, lowering himself down deeper into the water, now only being just above his waist out the water.

“You must have some questions, so I’ll make this quick. No I don’t sing and lure sailors to drown, I’m not from your world. I speak your language because I was taught, you aren’t the only human who has washed up on this forsaken planet.

I was named Aaron by some little kid way back when, don’t remember her much but she was with another alien some years back for supplies. (hehe, story lore. He is loosely connected to baby on board) I’m a trader or a seller of sorts, I give supplies for trade or payment.”

The introduction to your ‘friend’ was definitely a strange one, that is for sure.

He made it clear he wasn’t too much of a threat within that conversation, but it didn’t hide the off handed comments and hints he wasn’t against eating humans… or his own kind later down the line during your first meeting. Apparently he was very much the type to eat humans or even other more sentient beings should they annoy him or no longer become of interest… which is probably why you now trade with him often, like you were right now.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything like this Aaron?”

“I’m sure pipsqueak. I’ve even been around the wreak and I haven’t found anything like what’s on the little drawing you are showing me. My best guess is that Gupper swallowed or ate whatever part you are looking for near that wreckage ages ago.

If it fits in their mouth it’s gone. I’d go deeper but with it being pairing season, creatures are far more territorial and even I won’t mess with a creature starting their nests or protecting their new young.

I’ll look through more pod wreaks if I find any, but there’s no guarantee. I’m too big to fit in the more cramped areas, so I can’t exactly search any that landed in shallows.”

Aaron explained, leaning on a small piece of a moving island.

Shockingly, he was always honest with his product and would even try and look for things for you. Offering to explore depths you wouldn’t dare to, or sometimes offering to simply retrieve things for free if they weren’t too out of the way.

“No, Aaron, that’s alright. I’m sure I can find the parts I need to make one. I’m just really sick of having to filter water a little bit at a time…”

“Hey, I actually have a question. How come I haven’t seen any other creatures like you around? I’ve been meaning to ask, but I just didn’t want to bring it up in case…”

You ask, genuinely interested. You had been stranded on planet for a while now, at least roughly four months. The closest thing you had encountered to him was simply a sound he -albeit, higher pitched- makes when he was distressed before hearing an abrupt stop to it.

“It was a sore spot? Not in the slightest!” He exclaimed almost happily.

“It’s simple really, we have our own territory. We aren’t pod creatures normally unless it’s our mates and young. And even then, young sometimes leave and don’t return to their parents to establish their own territory.

Any of my kind wouldn’t be near by because most this area aside from past the deep depths are all my territory. If you see any, it won’t be for long since I’ll have chased them off or made an easy meal out of em. I’m the largest of my kind from my most recent knowledge, so they are easy pickings.

I also don’t have a cave system here, which means it wouldn’t be safe to have a pod, or young anyways.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense… the fact you speak so easily about eating your own kind is concerning.”

Aaron simply laughed, lowering his head onto his fist. Due to the weather changing into the colder months, his translucent skin had started to become more purple, and his heartbeat slower.(which was strange, because you could actively see his heart.) it seemed he was more tired than usual.

His top fin, which resided in the middle of his head flopped over to his left side as he tilt his head so his glowing pupils could look even deeper into your soul.

“That’s just our life cycle. In fact, it isn’t uncommon for siblings to even fight over their parents own territory should they not be close. Sometimes we make bonds and we never attack our own pod mates, but should they become a threat to us, it’s kill or be killed.

Honestly, the only time I know I won’t be attacked, even if I’m the strongest within the area is if I enter my parent’s territory. They don’t tend to attack their own young.

My kind also don’t often go after the smaller subspecies of our kind either, we don’t see them as worth while meals usually. In fact, we sometimes form a type of companionship. Us larger kinds offer protection, the smaller offer assistance with caring for young, catching or luring meals, and in rare occasions are simply companions.” Aaron explained, going on one of his more usual rants.

“It’s probably the same reason we rarely eat the humans that sometimes crash here actually. You are similar sizes and build to our subspecies. I actually mistook the first human I met as one of them!

I was a juvenile and my parents had one of their own, so I grabbed it and brought it with me all the way to the cove… of course, it was a human so he obviously couldn’t be underwater. I thought I man handled the poor thing too much because it was struggling so hard to break surface!

It ended up being our little subspecies that grabbed him and pulled him up for air. That’s how we learned what a human was and even eventually learned English. He lived on top the cove for some years before dying.”

Aaron spoke before sighing. His ‘brow’ quirked at the memory, his mouth in a pressed line before shrugging and diving back into the water.

For a moment, you thought he left, only to be proven wrong when he popped up behind you, his shoulders being the lowest point of him to recede out the water now.

“Apologies, was drying out. Now where was I? Oh yes.

He was a type of researcher. Much too old by the time I found him to swim on his own for long. And also much too old to live long. He was an interesting fellow.

Anyways, he is why I was able to recognize humans. Also the reason I know what I can get from them in return for my help.

Speaking of help, I’ll keep looking for your little metal scrap you need, but I make no guarantees. Until then, keep your payment, I’m anything except unfair. Until next time human.”

And with that, he was gone… as were you. Because he used his tail to flick you back to your escape pod that was stationed in the shallow. Man you hate when he does that. It’s a trade, not a log ride Aaron!

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Oh my gosh I wrote something! It sucks because I wrote it in like 30 minutes but I finally finished something! Hopefully this makes up a little for my lack of writing 🥲😅.

As I said, asks open! Especially for mermay! If you guys have any Drabble ideas for Aaron, go ahead and send an ask!

[marvelousmagicalaura]

The Lord Ruler's portrayal worries me. I hope The Stormlight Archive doesn't do this. 

I'll preface this post by saying this is not out of dislike for the Mistborn trilogy. I'm not trying to impose my moral viewpoints onto fellow cosmerenauts. And it's not meant to dismiss that fantasy characters can have their own unique beliefs. This is simply a rant on a topic that's bugged me ever since finishing The Hero of Ages. It came back as I was contemplating Era 2's nuanced portrayal of Elendel’s problems, Harmony's plans, and Autonomy's mindset. And since I'm reading The Stormlight Archive after Warbreaker, this involves a hope of mine.

My journey throughout Scadrial created an increasing sense of concern and worry over the Lord Ruler's portrayal. In my eyes, book 3 fell into the trap of characters defending the Lord Ruler's actions. Simply because they were for the goal of preserving the world. To be clear, I understand what Sanderson was trying to do. He wanted to make a world where most characters, even when destroying the evil empire, ultimately wanted a stable world. And for that, I understand why Vin or Sazed would call Rashek a "good man with honorable intentions."

Vin always wanted a stable life. And when she thanked the Lord Ruler as Preservation, I bet her opinions of TLR were being slightly filtered by Preservation's Intent. Sazed Ascended with full access to how Ruin and Preservation connected back to Rashek. He knew Rashek in ways no one could imagine.

So while their claims were understandable, it felt extremely gross. My first issue is that I lack the same knowledge of Rashek as Vin or Sazed. I only know Rashek as a bitter, violent glory hound Terrisman who maybe had slivers of understandable motives before Ascending. Then I only know him as an evil emperor going insane for 1000 years. I don't know the "good man" Rashek. I know the asshole who did 5% good things and 95% ends justify the means.

My second issue is that the "suffered under Ruin's hand" removed accountability. Rashek didn't NEED to make slaves out of most remaining humans, turn his people into jellyfish, restrict Allomancy to the ruling class, sacrifice humans for koloss armies, or wipe out all religions and cultures. But that line pinned it on Ruin's influence, even though Rashek did horrible things and made horrible plans during the Ascension. Instead of holding Rashek himself accountable for his own actions.

And on that note, fuck Rashek for even mentioning Ruin's whispers in the Fadrex city plate. Yeah sure, centuries of Ruin's influence pushed him to make the Terris breeding program. But those reprehensible actions above were all Rashek's fault when he was a new conqueror.

My third issue is the erasure of potential depth behind Ruin and Preservation's conflict. It doesn't give Preservation something 100% despicable to actively do. It ignores the fact Ruin doesn't insert new personalities, but rather influences what is already there. Ruin was the method through which Rashek did things, but Preservation is the reason and goal. Rashek ruined to preserve.

Brandon should’ve settled for Sazed acknowledging the tragedy and genius behind Rashek’s efforts, while acknowledging they were reprehensible and weren’t solely orchestrated by Ruin. I don't know what The Stormlight Archive will hold. But if there are any characters who go "ends justify the means" or "it's not my fault it's the god," I sincerely hope Brandon calls out their rusting nonsense with a hammer. He did it with Kelsier (complicated feelings about that), he did not do it with Rashek. I hope he does it in Stormlight.

[ginmoonnet]

♡ Between Bitter Tea and Sweet Milkshake┇🫖🍓

[Wanderer AU] 🐈‍⬛🤍❕

List

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Ep. 1 ‘Sleepyhead’

Life is a bit hard at your 17 years old...isn't it? That's probably why you fell asleep in the break room, because getting up at 6 in the morning to work in the cafe and then going to class at 2 in the afternoon was eating you up.

Fortunately, today was Saturday! You would get home after your shift and not do anything productive for the rest of the day, except that apparently they had replaced whoever would take the next shift and since they were new you had to actually wait for them to arrive so you can leave because you didn't know how long it would take approximately.

What difference does it make? A little nap won't hurt anyone, after all, your shift officially ended five minutes ago and it was lunchtime anyway.

Tap Tap.

Two taps on your shoulder and an almost penetrating look woke you up, suddenly your body felt cold despite having slept curled up on the office couch for who knows how long.

—I wasn't asleep!—.

The person in front of you tilted their head with their arms crossed. A boy in uniform, with pale skin, almost as white as sweet whipped cream, eyes of an indigo as striking as his hair that resembled a blueberry...or a jellyfish?

Captivating without a doubt, which was clear thanks to how little concealed your curious but bewildered look was. The boy just snorted with some discomfort before speaking.

—You're Y/N, right? Why are you still here?—.

He didn't say anything rude, however the tone of his voice felt somewhat abrupt and his eyes, which looked at you disinterestedly, made you feel tiny in your place.

—Excuse me but…W-who are you?—.

The bluenette watched you in silence for another good, long 2 seconds that felt eternal in your still sleepy head.

—The new on charge of the afternoon shift, why are you still here?—.

Finally. You understood the situation so you nodded, although was it necessary to repeat the same question twice? It felt like he was kicking you out or something.

Anyway, you didn't have time to overthink…or even think so you just grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.

Before leaving you waved goodbye to your new partner, who reciprocated by raising his eyebrows a little with a still disinterested look and then turned his back on you.

Tsk, what a bitter guy.

List | Next

A/N:

- I thought it was way longer 😞. Hah, anyway. I hope y’all like it, I’ll make sure to write more next time dw!!!

—Moonヽ(^‥^=ゞ). ミ★

[spacesummerchronicles]

Space’s Summer Chronicles #19: June 23rd and June 24th: Beach Days!

We begin the coastal saga! My new reality: waking up at 9.30 am; having nice breakfast; working til like 2 pm; going to the beach til like 7 pm; eating dinner and exploring the city; relaxing.

It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of - having my own place near the beach. I’ve always loved water, you can ask my mother how many times she’s had to drag me out of the water kicking and screaming cause I never wanted to come out. Now that I’m grown I can disappear for hours in the sea and come out whenever I decide I wanna leave. I’m free.

I do think my earlier prediction of the sea carving me into the person I’m meant to be is proving correct. I will elaborate on it later.

Side note: my tits look AMAZING from all the swimming I’m doing! I’m gonna look so fucking hot at the Kesha concert if i keep this up for the next 2.5 months. Pushups postponed for now!

On June 23rd I took a walk around the town in the evening and I was sad for some reason. The day went better than I could have anticipated, so that was really confusing but meh, emotions have to be felt.

I was chasing an Eastern Star of sorts. Could have been a drone.

The air is stale but thank God it’s June, I don’t sweat

I wonder where the sea winds are

Are they avoiding me like the moon does?

On June 24th I discovered I’m a very fearful person. I have a tendency of jumping when I’m scared and being on very high alert. Mostly for jellyfish. They majorly gross me out. I need to let go of my fear. Fear is good for survival but from now on I will be thriving.

I think I’ll be a millionaire eventually - maybe when a million is not that much but I think I’ll get there. I’m not sure I like what capitalism has made me but I sure love what it has given me. I hope it can give to those who need it too. I saw a video of a homeless mother and her child receiving gifts from a kind stranger. All my life I’ve had to be stingy with people like that cause I’ve never had enough to both help them and secure my and my family’s well being for long. Sure, I’ve given money on occassion but my default mode is just protect the little I have. Now that I begin to have more, is it time to unlearn that? When I was a child, I thought grown up me would give to charity regularly. Am I grown up me yet? Or am I disappointing him?

I told my online friend from the UK about my coast situation and he said I’ll be sunkissed. Girl, I’ll be SUNFUCKED thank GOD i’m stocked up on sunscreen.

An ex classmate of mine that I recently reconnected with cause she started coming to my Zumba class invited me to a house party for her birthday in July but sadly I won’t be able to make it cause I’ll still be on the coast. Kinda sad but then again most of her friends are boring male programmers. Shudder. Maybe this is me dodging a bullet.

I will be attending a party in honor of the new Lorde album nexttt Saturday. I hope people show up honestly lmfaooooo

Summer progress bar:22.4%/100

Song of the day:

The sea is so aquamarine. It’s beautiful

[spanishskulduggery]

When did you first start learning Spanish? And any basic learning tips? I have a few Spanish speaking coworkers but I get so nervous trying to practice my Spanish with them.... and and, when you were first learning Spanish, did you have any little things you found especially fun/funny?

Oh gosh it's been decades now. To give some backstory and you can do your own math here, this blog started in 2013 when I was still in college getting my degree in Spanish

I started in what I think would be middle school when Spanish became a mandatory class, but I didn't start really studying and understanding things until high school. It wasn't until even after college that I REALLY felt like I understood Spanish because there were so many native speakers and people interacting with me.

One thing that totally changed my perception and how I perceive Spanish was there was a question on the preterite and imperfect, and I'm giving my answer and trying to explain some bits about how a lot of times both are potentially correct but it's how you mean it that matters

And someone mentioned that "imperfect" in its linguistic etymology means "not yet completed"; that "perfect" is "done thoroughly" where the -fect is probably related to hacer "to do"... and "imperfect" thus means "not yet done", and just a huge lightbulb moment

I remember thinking "I WISH one of my teachers had known that or said that to me because it makes so much more sense now"

And I still mess up but usually it's followers like "oh we say THIS here" or "that's not the word we use but it reminds me of this thing in my country"

-

A few funny things in Spanish based on mistakes that I've made or things that I learned:

You haven't truly begun your Spanish journey until someone tells you that embarazado/a means "pregnant" not "embarrassed" (avergonzado/a).... similarly no one mentions that embarazoso/a means "awkward" or "unwieldy" in a way

querer means "to want", but it can also mean "to love" or cherish; similarly querido/a means "dear", but la querida can also kind of mean "side-piece" like someone's affair partner woman so if you see someone talking about their querida without a name or a noun they might be talking about an affair

el pelo is "hair", el cabello typically means "hair on the top of the head" like a human... and el cabello is NOT el caballo "horse"

the word for "eye-catching" is llamativo/a and NOT miradizo/a which miradizo/a is one of those old words but it kind of means "awestruck" or "makes you stare in wonderment" in a weirdly poetic way

sartén as "frying pan" can be masculine or feminine depending on country

there are too many words for beans

there are three main words for "purple" - la púrpura usually means "red-violet" or Tyrian purple and also the mollusk you get purple from; morado/a is often "dark purple" related to la mora which can be "blackberry" or "mulberry"; lila is "light purple" meaning "lilac".... you can also say violeta that's fine too

people say naranja for "the color orange" more than anaranjado/a but not everyone has the patience to explain that naranja which comes from the fruit doesn't change for gender

same with rosa as "pink", where rosado/a "pink" is also valid and usually what's taught

regionalisms. regionalisms everywhere

If you're in a really immature class, someone is going to laugh at puse

the word for "jellyfish" in Spanish is la medusa and that makes me happy

similarly, a male "horseman" is often el jinete; a female "horsewoman" or "rider" is sometimes la amazona and that also makes me happy

la macedonia is sometimes "fruit salad", so one assumes that Macedonians were just throwing fruit together in a bowl or something

Except for two big exceptions, most words ending in al- in Spanish are from Arabic origins [the exceptions being anything related to el almuerzo "lunch", and la almendra "almond"]

la manzana can mean "city block" in some places - probably because in a feudal society people lived in "manses" and the biggest house was the "mansion" where the lord lived, and it has nothing to do with apples

la montaña rusa is "roller coaster" literally "Russian mountain" because Russian people used to make little roller coasters by shaping ice mountains and putting tracks on them

la paja rusa does NOT mean "Russian straw", it is extremely NSFW and do not google it on a school server...... in fact don't look up any kind of paja because it's just as NSFW and it means "straw" if you're not talking about sex so otherwise don't worry about it

someone told me that linguistically para is just por+a, so parais literally "for the purpose of" or "for/so that to" and I've never been the same

the word for "ladybug" in Spanish is la mariquita which is "little Mary" because red used to be associated with Virgin Mary and the spots were said to be 7 and represent the joyful/sorrowful mysteries - many languages have a religious connotation to "ladybug"... also English, because the "lady" refers to Mary, like "Our Lady"

The Spanish alphabet used to be different where CH and RR were their own separate letters... it made looking things up weird; I also don't know how I feel about L vs. LL as separate letters because it's a whole other sound but it IS technically two L's

The word for octopus is el pulpo... the word for "pulp" is la pulpa; don't be like me and mix up asking for orange juice with no octopus

I cannot stress this enough but el pollo is "chicken" or "poultry"; la polla is a NSFW word meaning "cock" and as soon as you say you want cock for dinner you will die some on the inside

I don't know what the deal is with ahorita or what it means without hearing the tone of voice and neither does anyone else, it could be anything

caber is the worst verb, but ir/andar are also up there

every so often luego/pues means "thus" or "therefore" and it's going to throw you off

every so often el hacha (technically feminine) means candle or torch, and in any other situation it means "hatchet" so imagine my confusion when I read about people carrying axes around to see

all my life everyone told me never to use gustar without an indirect object and a friend from Puerto Rico says gusta to mean "cool" all the time and it made me question everything

[slut4converse]

Things in Heartstopper s3 that made me cry in no particular order

Charlie struggling with his mental health

Nick struggling with Charlie struggling with his mental health

Specifically the talk with Aunt Diane (Nick in a Captain America costume, yet he never comments on the fact that his aunt looks just like Peggy Carter?)

EVERYTHING to do with Elle's radio show oh my fucking god I felt so bad for her

Elle struggling with her dysphoria in a sexual context, and then learning how to set boundaries with Tao

VICTORIA SPRING

Michael Holden being the most adorable person I've ever witnessed on television

He is just SO SOFT I want to put him in a MICROWAVE

He is my BLORBO now

THE HALLOWEEN PARTY?!?!?!? THAT HAD NO RIGHT TO BE SO DEVASTATING

Obviously we have Nick crying on Tao's shoulder (which, btw, I LOVE Tao and Nick friendship, we stan character development)

But THEN we have Imogen getting HAMMERED and immediately jumping on Sahar's mouth. LESBIAN BEHAVIOR

Imogens struggles with her sexuality and comphet

Sahar and Imogens relationship is soooooooooooo me-coded, except my queer-awakening situationship was even worse, it ended with our friend group split into not just half but THIRDS, and today we passive aggressively read Hate Poem by Julie Sheehan aloud in our AP Lit class. (Go read it, it's great) (Just the two of us cause we were the only volunteers) (if there could be cinematic symbolism irl that would have been it)

DARCY'S GRANDMOTHER IS THE SWEETEST LITTLE OLD LADY I WANT HER TO ADOPT ME TOO PLEASE

TAO AND HIS VIDEO CAMERA HE IS SO ME CODED

Nick not knowing who he is without Charlieeee

TORI SPRING

I cannot stress this enough. TORI!!

Isaac's third wheel struggles

The jellyfish metaphor

CHARLIE'S SELF HARM SCARS

I ACTUALLY HAD TO PAUSE THE SHOW AND TAKE A BREATHER

Tara's panic attack

All the uni stuff

If I were British I'd be in 6th form rn

So it's hitting a little too close to home right now

GEOFF

GEOFF IS MY BITCH

WE LOVE GEOFF IN THIS HOUSEHOLD

TORIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Michael :D

That's all I've got off the top of my head but yk what we'll see where this goes

[schizo4u]

Shin x Oc Reader (long series)

Paris Mochizuki is a rising fashion designer known for her free-spirited nature and bold refusal to follow the rules. Inspired by the elegance of jellyfish and the creatures of the sea, Paris creates designs that feel like they’ve been pulled from the depths of the ocean ethereal, daring, and unforgettable. But the one thing that truly stirred the tide of Paris’s life was Shinichi Okazaki. Their bond was instant, electric, and unshakable until everything changed. Without warning, a sudden shift fractured the world they had built together, setting them on paths neither of them could have predicted.

Following the anime and manga and all credits got to Ai Yazawa and Oc inspiration goes to Akiko Higashimura.

Short chapter

Ch.1

Word count: 976

I live for quiet days like this at school. There’s something comforting about the everyday rhythm the chatter, the soft laughs, the low hum of people just existing. I often wonder what it would feel like to be on the other end of it all at the center of the conversation, saying something that makes people laugh, being the reason someone’s day feels a little lighter.

As I sat at my desk, letting my thoughts wander, the classroom door suddenly slammed open. Heads snapped around instinctively. I didn’t need to look I already had a good guess who could make that kind of entrance.

“Paris. I got something I want to tell you.”

I turned, and of course, it was him Shinichi Okazaki. Shin, for short. We met the first day we transferred into this school, and ever since then, our lives seemed to orbit the same strange little universe.

“What is it, Shin? Is this about what you told me last night?” I tilted my head to the side, giving him my full attention.

He leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, doing his best to look cool. But the spark in his eyes betrayed him. That tiny, restless fire nervous but excited.

“Yeah… it is. You remember that band I told you about? The one I wasn’t sure I had a shot with?”

I nodded, trying to keep a straight face, but it was impossible not to smile around him.

He paused, looked down for a beat, then glanced back up with a small grin.

“They picked me. I’m in.”

His voice was calm almost too calm. But I saw it. The way his foot wouldn’t stop tapping. He cared more than he’d ever admit out loud.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen next. Might be nothing. Might be everything. But for the first time in a while… I think I’m actually looking forward to it.”

My smile grew. I knew what that meant for him. He had told me, once, in the quiet between moments, about everything he carried. All the heaviness he never let the world see. And now, he found something worth leaning into. That mattered more than he probably realized.

I glanced at the clock. One more class left in the day but honestly, who cared?

“So… want to skip the rest of the day to celebrate?” I asked, grabbing my bag without hesitation. I already knew his answer.

He gave me one of those smiles half mischief, half sunshine and reached for my wrist, tugging me toward the door.

“So… what’d you have in mind?” he asked as we stepped off school grounds.

We walked until we found ourselves at a familiar bridge, a little distance away, where the world always felt a little quieter.

“Well,” I said, glancing over at him, “we can go shopping. You’re officially in a band now you gotta look the part. Lucky for you, you’ve got a fashionista for a best friend.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused, crossing his arms and leaning in slightly.

“A fashionista, huh? That what we’re calling it now?”

“Alright, stylist just don’t make me look like some lost member of Trapnest. I still want to recognize myself in the mirror.” He paused, and his voice softened just a little.

“But… thanks. Seriously. You always know how to make things feel real. Like it’s actually happening.”

A sly grin crept back in as he tilted his head.

“Just… don’t bankrupt me, okay? I still need to afford cigarettes.”

I laughed, the sound light and easy. That was the thing about Shin he always made me feel at ease, like I could breathe a little easier just by standing next to him.

“One day,” I said, nudging him gently with my shoulder, “you won’t have to worry about that. I’ll make your clothes for you. Anything you want. Custom, one of a kind, Okazaki originals.”

He looked at me like he was trying not to smile too much, like if he let it show, it would mean more than he was ready to say. But it was there, in his eyes.

“You saying you’re gonna be my personal designer now?” he teased. “That’s a lot of pressure, Paris.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a light shove. “You’ve been a walking fashion disaster since I met you. I think I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life.”

He caught his balance, laughing a sound that always felt like a reward. Then, without warning, he reached out and tugged lightly at the end of one of my sleeves.

“Well, if I’m gonna wear your stuff… you gotta start with something personal. I want something that feels like you, not just your label.”

That made my heart skip, just a little. I glanced at him, and he was already looking away, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I’ll make you something,” I said softly, more serious now. “Something only you’d understand.”

There was a pause between us short, but full of things neither of us had the words for yet. And then, in true Shin fashion, he broke it with a smirk.

“Just don’t put jellyfish on it. I’m not ready to become ocean couture.”

I shoved him again, laughing. “You wish you had the confidence to rock jellyfish print.”

His laughter mixed with mine, echoing over the bridge, and for a second, time felt suspended. No school. No future to be afraid of. Just this moment two people who kept finding each other in the quiet spaces between chaos.

I turned to him with a genuine smile, not knowing that moment would quietly shift the course of our lives. Looking back, we were still so young-hopeful, but unprepared. I sometimes wish we had more time to grow into ourselves before everything unfolded the way it did.