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#so you know why floyd looks so baby
zivazivc · 3 months
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first night alone
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myunghology · 5 months
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twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.
pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).
tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?
a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!
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☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS
nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)
but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.
oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.
other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.
doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..
well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.
—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!
plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)
cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.
he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.
sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.
riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.
☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi
him? in love? absolutely.
if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.
he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.
let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.
he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.
okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.
what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.
ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.
also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.
maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.
spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.
☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.
he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.
it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.
"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd
you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.
floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.
but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.
wait till you tell him that you find him cute..
he explodes
no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.
☆ — JADE LEECH
so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.
always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.
tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.
in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.
similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.
you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.
it's probably best not to ask him though.
he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-
genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.
trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..
☆ — FLOYD LEECH
my condolences if he ever likes you.
just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.
doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.
you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.
plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.
has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.
easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.
also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".
ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.
drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..
☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM
probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..
spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!
you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.
not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.
very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..
hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.
shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.
bro's lovesick
gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..
introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:
"are we not engaged" "NO??"
he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already
he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..
☆ — JAMiL ViPER
like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.
maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.
VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,
"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"
you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.
like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.
jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.
studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.
☆ — SiLVER
im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.
but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.
he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.
you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..
genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)
and that's why lilias opinions are always important..
generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.
but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??
lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?
after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.
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©myunghology
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harunayuuka2060 · 14 days
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Twst Unveil Event Part 2
*In the Mirror Chamber*
*Yuurin, Jack, Ruggie, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Rook, Epel, Floyd, and Jade are already there.*
Malleus: Seems that everyone is here.
Sebek: It's a pleasure for us to be in a trip with you, Waka-sama!
Malleus: Yes. Thanks to Yuurin who graciously invited me.
Yuurin: Don't mention it, Malleus-senpai.
Ruggie: Um, Rook? Is that a camera?
Rook: Oui!
Jack: Why?
Rook: To take photos of Monsieur Tranquille, of course!
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: No, Rook. That's our job.
Jack: Yes. We need to update Leona-senpai every hour.
Epel: When did Leona-senpai become such a worrywart?
Floyd: Ne~ Ne~ Damselfish~ Are we going to have a sleepover~?
Yuurin: Yes. I believe so.
Floyd: You can share a bed with me and Jade~. You'll be our pillow~.
Silver: You can't.
Floyd: Eh~ Why not~?
Jade: Is there a problem, Silver?
Silver: Yuurin needs a good night's rest.
Jade: Ah, now that makes sense. *chuckles*
Floyd: Eh~? But I sleep like a baby lamb~.
Them except Yuurin: We all know that's a lie.
Yuurin: It's time for us to go.
Yuurin: We have arrived.
*The fresh breeze immediately welcomes them.*
Them: *sigh in contentment*
Jade: I like this place. *chuckles*
Silver: It feels like a good place to sleep in...
Sebek: Silver! Don't fall asleep!
Yuurin: I'm glad you find the place relaxing.
Yuurin: Though it's good while it lasts.
Jack: Hm? What do you mean by that, Yuurin?
Yuurin: Here she comes.
*The ground started shaking*
Epel: Eh— Are we having an earthquake?!
Yuurin: No.
"YUURIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Them: Huh?
*A giant buff woman comes charging at them; or more likely towards Yuurin.*
Yuurin: Good morning, Philomela.
Them: That's... PHILOMELA?!!
Ruggie: Yuurin! Move aside!
Philomela: YUUURIN! *sweeps her off her feet and gives her a big, tight hug*
Philomela: Oh look at you!
Yuurin: How are you, Philomela?
Philomela: I am doing GREAT! *laughs*
Them: ...
Philomela: Oh. And these are your schoolmates, no?
Philomela: They look promising!
Them: *all of them smiles*
Yuurin: Philomela, can you put me down?
Philomela: Ah, yes, yes. Of course.
Floyd: Wow. She's as huge as a whale.
Epel: What the— Why would you say that?!
Philomela: A WHALE?!
Philomela: Did you hear that, Yuurin? He called me a whale!
Yuurin: Yes. I heard it loud and clear, Philomela.
Silver: She looks happy. Was that a compliment?
Yuurin: Yes. The best one at that.
The others: Oh...
Ruggie: *mutters* Wow. If it were in any other places...
Jack: *mutters too* You would have been slapped.
Philomela: Have a tour of the place while I assist the other schools.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Didn't you say no one wanted to participate?
Philomela: Well, after making an announcement that Night Raven College will join, different schools have shown their interests.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I see. In that case, we will see you later.
Philomela: *takes her leave*
Floyd: So~ What should we do now~?
Malleus: I want to hear the beliefs and culture of this place.
Yuurin: There are tons of them.
Rook: Can you give us an example?
Yuurin: Hmm...
Yuurin: If you happen to lock eyes with an animal and it starts to approach you, run.
Epel: Huh? But why?
Jack: Is it because it's attacking you?
Yuurin: No. It means a god has taken a liking on you.
Them: ...
Rook: And why is that a problem, Monsieur Tranquille?
Yuurin: Kingdom of Heroes have records of wars and long-time disputes just for this very reason.
Ruggie: Yikes.
Floyd: Oh...
Floyd: There's a bald eagle staring at Guppy right now.
Epel: ...
Malleus: You are being liked by a god.
Yuurin: Oh. A bald eagle.
Yuurin: That's not good.
Epel: *panic noises*
*Later, Yuurin has to convince Epel that it was only a myth to stop him from crying*
Leona: How is everything there?
Yuurin: Not a problem so far.
Leona: Good. That's all I have to say. I'll hang up now. *ends the call*
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Ruggie: In 3... 2... 1...
Ruggie: *Leona is calling him*
Ruggie: *answers*
Leona: No sleeping in the same bed.
Ruggie: Yes, boss. Copy. *then Leona hangs up*
Jack: Aren't we sharing beds already?
Ruggie: Shh. You're going to attract the strict brother energy, Jack.
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deakyjoe · 1 month
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I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying
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Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)
Category: sick fic, fluff
Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.
Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!
Consider buying me a coffee :)
You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.
Okay, get well soon!
It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.
It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.
To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.
You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.
Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.
It wasn't.
In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.
You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.
That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.
"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.
Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."
"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.
"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.
You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.
So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."
Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."
"Oh." That surprised you.
He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."
God, were you that easy to read?
"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."
You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"
You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.
"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"
"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.
You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."
He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."
"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.
"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"
You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.
"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.
"No." You sighed. "It's okay."
"Yeah, I'm making you something."
You huffed. "You really don't have to-"
"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”
You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”
Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”
You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.
“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.
“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”
"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.
"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."
Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."
He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.
He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”
“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”
“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.
“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”
The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.
So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”
His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”
You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”
Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”
You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.
“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.
He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”
You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”
You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.
He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”
You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.
Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.
You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”
“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.
“You gonna feed me?” You teased.
Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”
He was right.
“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”
“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.
You were definitely a little bit in love with him.
You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."
Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."
"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.
“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Hot.” You insisted.
"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.
He huffed out a laugh.
You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.
“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.
“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”
You scoffed. “You’re something else.”
He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.
“How you feeling now?”
“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”
Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”
You hummed and stared at him fondly.
He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”
You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.
“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.
He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”
Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”
You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”
Maybe you were a lot in love with him.
So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”
Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.
He knew you so well.
You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”
He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”
You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”
“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.
“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”
“Me too.”
Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.
He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.
Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.
A/N: And we’re back!
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Wanna Buy You A Drink
(Bob Floyd x Reader)
Summary: It's been five months since Bob's seen his wife, and aside from Natasha he had yet to mention her to his team. He calls it privacy, she jokes it's internalised possessiveness. But tonight, with Penny's help at the Hard Deck, more than one person is in for a surprise. After all, who doesn't love a good innuendo?
A/N- Hi y'all! No TWs I think, a good few innuendos and one joke about making babies but nothing actually happens. I've been trying to finish this one for a while and am very happy with how it turned out! P.S incase y'all didn't know the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force's professional flight team that does really amazing tricks and skills and the Blue Angels are the ones for the US Navy! Both groups are so amazing to see in person and I just wanted to make a little Navy Vs. Air Force rivalry joke about them!😊 Enjoy❤️
WC- 3.8k
Main Masterlist
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He didn't know you were coming.... or so soon at least.
The last time you had spoken to your husband was a few days ago while trying to find a flight to San Diego for next month. The two of you had texted of course, and you had even gotten a few awkwardly taken selfies of the man with the sunset behind him. Neither you nor your husband enjoyed having your photo taken, so seeing him take time to step out of his usual comfort zone was always touching. Besides, you would never tell him (nor would he tell you), but there was a growing album in your phone of sneakily taken photos, though blanket holes or around house walls when the other wasn't looking. These little albums you each had "hidden" helped the burden of the distance seem less harsh, especially in the times when Bob's job kept him farther way than usual.
Despite the top secret mission he had been sent on being completed, your husband was still assigned to say in the city for an undetermined amount of time. Evidently the higher ups decided they liked how well the crew had flown and wanted to keep them together. Tired of being alone and wanting to have a little fun in the Sunny City, you decided to make an early appearance. Luckily, you had already managed to find a job in the city that was just a different branch of where you worked before. They were also kind enough to give you a two weeks leave of your own to make the move and see your husband. Your husband knew you would to join at some point, only he thought you wouldn't be getting in until late next month. So he would be very surprised in a few hours when he found you at one of the navy's top aviator hangouts that night.
It was a bar called the Hard Deck. You remembered your husband mentioning it a few times through your communications, as where him and his fellow officers liked to go after a long day. A quick google search rendered a fruitful find, and ten minutes after getting your rental car, you were on your way. It barely 5:30 by the time your reached the bar, Aviators and Civilians alike had just begun to pour through the bar doors. But by 6:00 you were sure the place would be packed. So you quickly searched for a seat, always rubbing your right thumb over your left wrist to calm your nerves. 
In the centre of the building, a beautiful older beautiful woman moved around the main bar serving drinks with ease. 'Penny' you though to yourself, remembering Bob mentioning her a few times when the bar came up. Apparently in addition to running the bar she also had close connections to the the Top Gun program herself, namely with a certain Captain who helped lead the last Mission. You smiled to yourself as you saw the sign by the bar serving a warning to those who would disrespect women or the navy. Maybe this woman could help you with your fun. When it became your turn to order you smiled at Penny...
"Hi! I was actually hoping I could send a drink to someone else if that would be alright?"
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Bob was tired. There was no particular reason why he was tired today, he just was. Training had gone smoothly and Hangman hadn't been too much of an pain either. All and All, today had actually been one of the least stressful days since he first arrived nearly five months ago. But for some reason Bob just felt off today, he chalked it up to having not spoken to you in a few days. Speaking to you always made him feel better, even when it was only for a few minutes. And having not seen you in person for five months made him long for something from you even more.
But these last few days had been busy, and then earlier today he had tried calling, but it hadn't gone through. This didn't worry him too much as he knew you occasionally turned your phone off during days when you really needed to focus on work. Though it was unusual for you to be working so late, seeing as your time zone was a few hours ahead of his and he called at 4:30 his time. Since the call didn't go though he decide that the "secret" photo album he had of you would have to suffice for now. Neither of you liked having your photo taken, but quick images taken half under the counter and while one slept always made the other smile.
He had been so busy looking at photos he almost didn't notice the group's nightly arrival to the Hard Deck until Phoenix nudged him. Giving him that half secret smile showing she knew what he was looking at. While the rest of the group (and even Maverick to a degree) thought Bob was incapable of talking to a woman without stuttering, Tasha knew otherwise. Bob hadn't even tried to hide it when she had asked why he seemed so fond of rubbing his right thumb over his sleeved left wrist night the group met. She had done it in private, of course, and only wondered if it was a nervous habit of her new WSO. And it was a habit....only not Bob's.
It was something you had always done even before you got married, a comforting repetitive habit that both you and your husband shared. But it also held a deeper meaning as it held the symbol your love. 
When the two of you first decided to get married a few years ago you hadn't gotten rings, or at least ones you'd wear on a daily basis. Both your jobs often required plenty of hands on work, and you had both been worried about losing the rings during the day. So instead, a cheaper pair of matching rings was bought and a new tradition was made. Each of you carried the other's ring in your wallet. That way, even when far apart you could have a piece of the other with you. And when the two of you met up face to face again you'd once more exchange rings. 
But even that wasn't all.
 The pair of you had wanted something more so you had decided to get matching tattoos. They were small and identical and despite almost breaking Bob's hand holding it while getting yours (from fear of needles) the small design was now one of your greatest comforts. On the inside of each of y'all's left wrist were two small stick figures holding hands on a paper airplane. At first glance it may have seems silly to any stranger passing by. But to you and Bob it was everything. 
Bob had been the one to draw stick "You" and you had drawn stick "Bob" with his little glasses. You had also drawn the paper airplane as stickmen were the extent of Bob's artistic skills. Besides, the paper plane you believed would be funny at the time. A memorial of how you two had first met in high school, when your paper plane had accidentally collided with his face instead of your friend's desk during class one day. You hadn't even known he wanted to be a pilot until months later, but when you did learn he was quick to comment how one day he'd be more than happy to take you up in a plane, as long as your weren't the one flying it again (he didn't think his face could take it). Years later you still found it funny and Bob would sometimes catch you laughing to yourself tracing the black lines on his wrist while lying in bed. A moment of peace before you two would have been parted again. Bob didn't regret what he did for a job, and neither did you, but that didn't stop you two from wishing to be together more. 
Again Tasha nudged him, breaking Bob out of his reverie before the pair headed into the crowded bar. It was just after 6:15 and already packed. Bob knew he'd rather head home and try calling you again, but he had also promised Fanboy one more pool rematch, since Hangman had busted into their last one. Luckily, even though the bar itself was crowded, the pool tables were open.
A few minutes into the game, Hangman and Coyote went to order a round of drinks and came back talking. Apparently there was some "Gorgeous Doll" (Jake's words) sitting at the bar and the pair of aviators were arguing over who'd get the chance to "woo" her first. 
Bob wasn't paying too much attention to their conversation or very interested in finding out more about this mystery woman. As far was he was concerned not even Dolly Parton could top your beauty and Bob would openly admit that he'd had a minor(ish) crush on the country singer since he was a kid. It had even become a running joke between your families, the battle for Bob's heart between you and Dolly. 
When he'd gotten his wisdom teeth out at 17, his mother told him someone had come to see him. Poor Bob about cried upon realising it was you instead of Mrs. Parton, his "Angel Voiced Beloved". Oh how you wish his brother still had that video tape, but unfortunately it had "mysteriously vanished" after Bob had overheard his sisters mention trying to get it for the wedding video. But more fortunately, the drugs wore off and soo enough he'd come back to his senses, and since that one night you'd been the only one for him. And luckily for him, he'd been the only one for you. 
So even if he was slightly curious to see which of his friends would attempt their flirtations, or which ones would fail, for now he didn't put too much thought into it. The quicker he won the game the quicker he could try calling you again. 
Soon enough Hangman was called back over to the bar to retrieve the group's drinks and they once again settled in to continue the game. Bob was once again winning, and Javy sat aside beginning to wish he hadn't placed such a bet tonight while Tasha and Callie were already making plans in their heads for what to do with their prize money. The only ball Bob had left to hit was the eight ball, and thanks to a lucky slip on Fanboy's part, it was a shot as perfect as it was easy. 
Javy cursed under his breath while Tasha and Callie high-fived, and Rooster cheered raising his glass up almost dumping his drink on Jake's head. Fanboy hung his head in defeat while Bob just grinned. Bob wasn't a bragging man but he still did like to win...a lot. The Squad may have thought of Bob as the quiet and passive WSO, but they had yet to see how competitive he could be when challenged. They had seen plenty of dog fights in the sky, but nothing compared to the vicious chaos between the Floyd family when it came to the annual gingerbread house competition. Under that sweet smile and those large glasses hid an overly excited man-child basking in his victory. Ok... so maybe it had been a good idea to come tonight. Bob couldn't wait to call his wife and tell her about his achievement. After all she was the one who taught him to play.
A few minutes later the group of aviators had settled down again and a new game started. This time Rooster was up against Maverick himself, which always proved to be a good show, full of sneaky cheating and playful jibes. Bob was sitting by Callie and Tasha taking his share of the winnings. It was only 6:30 now and he knew his night owl of a wife wouldn't be asleep for a few more hours so he decided to watch a few more games between his friends before calling a cab home. 
Hangman and Coyote were still debating over whose turn it was to talk to the new woman at the bar. Evidently, they'd noticed her reoccurring glances towards the squad during the first game and were sure she was interested in one of them two. And to drive their beliefs further, the glances had been accompanied by a playful smirk "directed" to the two men who'd placed themselves behind an oblivious Bob as them game went on. 
It was a few minutes later Penny walk up to the Aviators carrying a drink in her hand and smirk on her face. 
"Someone sent over a drink for one you lot," she said, at once turning the entire groups' attention towards her. After all who didn't like a free drink? Usually the drinks in question were for sent for Tasha or Callie, the only two women in the whole squad, but occasionally one of the other aviators would be the recipient. No one would forget the time Ruben got a drink from a 60 something year old women in a sparkly dress. And it appeared this would be one of those times. 
With a smirk on her face she turned, setting the colorful drink down saying,
"Lieutenant Bob Floyd someone wants you to have sex on the beach."
Aside from quite humming of ice machine and the clatter of Maverick's pool stick it seemed as if all the sound has been sucked out of the Hard Deck. As if Penny's words has been some wicked spell freezing, all the group's inhabitants where stood still. A little ways away from the group, a woman sat with a growing grin on her face as she watched everything unfold. Just as Bob opened his mouth, his face now a red as his wife's lipstick, Penny delivered the final 'blow'. 
"It's double strong too, so I'd say someone really wants you to have it."
Bob looked like a fish. A really cute six foot tall fish with military issued glasses but still a fish. His eyes were wide and his mouth kept opening slightly before closing as if the words in his head were fully composed of silent letters. If one were to look into Bob's head and read his mind they'd be able read the flurry of responses and polite refusals streaming through his brain. It wasn't the first time he'd been sent a drink, but that never stopped him from going speechless when it happened. Now Bob was a married man. A very happily married man, but he still had an awful habit of getting flustered anytime showed interest in him. It was something that Y/N took special pleasure in, and there were times they went out with friends when she'd pretend she didn't know him just so she could relentlessly flirt and turn him red. To be fair he'd also done it to her a few times, but she had a habit of taking any flirting he did as a challenge. And then, while their friends fake gagged and smirked behind their backs, the night would be filled with flirty winks and innuendos until someone gave in and "agreed" to take the other to "their place".....wait a mi....
"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of getting you a refreshment. Thought you might have deserved it after that wonderful win." 
Bob was grinning like an idiot before he even finished turning his head to the approaching voice. He didn't get out of his seat though as his head fell back to the ceiling with a hand over his face as the last of the embarrassment left him. Turning his head back to the women he smiled again as he began to laugh. He turned his body more towards her and noticed the dress she was wearing. Damn he loved that dress. It was the one she wore when they had gotten engaged. Looking at her lips she appeared to have the same lipstick on too.
"I hate you."
Words said without malice, quite the oppose actually, brought another laugh to Y/N's lips as after months apart she finally got to stand in-front of her husband. Eyes never leaving her husband's, she places a hand over her heart and gave a dramatic gasp.
"Well that is the most heartbreaking news I've ever heard darling. You see I was so impressed with your skills earlier, I was ALL set to propose. See I even got you a ring," and with that Y/N pulled her left hand back from her chest and revealed Bob's ring which had been sitting in her wallet for months now. Well, aside from almost every day when she'd fidget with it in her hands while on the phone with him or just because she missed him. And a little farther up from her palm was a small tattoo of two tiny stick people holding hands on a paper plane. In the back ground, Phoenix let out a small sound of joy of her own as she finally understood what was happening. Quickly she leaned over and explained to Callie, who also started to laugh. The rest of the aviators still stood in shock, not sure what was going on. They only knew that for some reason Bob "Blushes at the word boobies" Floyd was getting the attention of one very pretty women, apparently because he could play pool. 
Bob only stared at her hand for a moment longer before he finally stood from his chair and wrapped the woman in front of him in his arms. Spinning her around once before kissing her cheek he pulled back.
"Well, I guess I'll have to rethink my words then ma'am. In fact, I think I got a ring right here that may fit your style," he replied grinning as he pulled Y/N's ring out of his own pocket and wallet with a practiced ease done many times before. "You'll have to forgive me for not kneeling to do it now, I'll get my ass chewed out if I dirty this uniform," he joked looking down to the woman in his arms smiling back.
"It may not be typical or proper, but I certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely ass of yours....so I guess I'll accept," Y/N joked back, drawing out a few words for added affect, not really caring about the propriety of it just ecstatic to be with her other half again.
"PROPER?! I haven't seen you in five months and the first think you do is send someone to tell me you really want me to have sex on the beach. How's that's proper for ya! Not even a hello first," Bob laughed. As surprised as he was initially, he really did miss this little game of y'all's. It brought out a cheekier side of him his friends usually didn't see.
"Alrighty then," stepping back and picking up the drink in question with a smirk, Y/N raised it to her husband's eyesight, "Hello, Lieutenant Bob Floyd would you like to have sex on the beach?"
"Well I just don't know if that's something I can answer in public Mrs Floyd," he replied cheekily, still starting at his wife.
"MRS.FLOYD"
That was the collective statement from the remaining aviators as the couple was finally brought out of their own little world. Turing to face the company Bob stood with his arm around Y/N's waist proudly like a child at Christmas.
"Yeah, Mrs. Floyd. Been that way since I became the luckiest man on earth."
"And since I became the luckiest women. But all ah y'all are welcome to call me Y/N. Or you know... Mrs. Baby on Board. Though I guess we haven't gotten to that part yet, but, it has been five months after all."
Tasha followed, closely by Callie, was the first to approach as Rooster's pool stick fell to the table and Maverick started wacking a sputtering Jake on the back, after the latter choked on his drink with the final sentence. 
"Hi, I'm Natasha and this is Callie, callsigns Phoenix and Halo. I'm your husband's ..."
Before Natasha could even finish she was wrapped in a hug by Y/N.
"Ohh I know you!! Bobbie talks about you all the time! You're Black Widow! It's so nice to meet you!!"
"Black Widow," someone asked from the side, while Bob began to chuckle under his breath.
"Ohh right, sorry. I have a hard time with remembering names, so I like to make up helpful nicknames with Bob to remind me of who is who. Like Natasha is Black Widow because of Natasha Romanoff; and Callie is Catwoman because of Callico Cats; and there's also a Rocket Raccoon for whoever's Bradley; and I have a Peter Pan beca...."
"Yep I think they get it darling. No need to divulge all our secrets." Bob interrupted nervously, not quite wanting his team to know all his secrets yet. He'd also NEVER tell them that when you first learned about his job you'd compared him to the Thunderbirds. I mean the audacity of it all! Everyone knew the Blue Angles were superior! Those were some fighting words Bob assured you at the time. Callie and Tasha burst into grins, liking this more and more, while Y/N looked back a her husband with a fake look of innocence in her eyes. Meanwhile Penny, still with the group, wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as Maverick gaped and Rooster got into a debate with Mickey if he was hotter than Bradley Cooper. Soon the laughter died down and Maverick stepped forward sticking out his hand.
"Well it sounds like you seem very good at giving callsigns of your own. Maybe we'll have to put you in charge of naming the new recruits Y/N. My callsign's Maverick but I'm guessing you know me as Peter Pan."
"Pleasure to meet you Maverick. I might just have to take you up in that offer. Heard a lot about you too. All of you in fact. I'm sorry for interrupting your game earlier, I've been waiting to do that for a long time. Your friend Penny was a brilliant help too." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. He had a welcoming smile that reminded her of her own father. She also sent a smile towards Penny who returned it with her own and took a step closer to Maverick. 
"No problem at all, it always nice to see couple's meeting again. I must admit the drink was a nice touch. Never seen an idea that creative yet." 
Stepping back towards her husband who put his waist around her once again, "Why thank you captain, I do suppose it's nice someone appreciates a good innuendo." Bob gave a small groan, but smiled as he buried his head into his wife's shoulder whispering how he did appreciate it and would show her how much later. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N caught a few more aviators still staring, though they seemed much less confused, now slowly settling in to of their quiet friend being married. "Though I believe there's a few more introduction left as well," She mentioned as she stepped towards the remaining group and shot a mischievous grin towards her husband, asking him a question without words.
"Oh just do it, they're gonna know eventually I guess," Bob laughed and looked at his wife with an equally mischievous look, finally taking a sip of his drink. After all, she'd probably let the names slip one day. This was going to be great. Hearing her next words, Jake choked on his drink again.
"Alrighty then. Which one of y'all boys is Statefarm?"
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floydira · 4 months
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₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ
brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.
note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.
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☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE
John Dory
erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...
BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.
so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.
when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"
if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.
if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).
In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...
at least, he's got the spirit!
Spruce/Bruce
this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.
if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.
once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.
while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.
lets you know that what you're going through is valid.
once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.
Clay
he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.
he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???
if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.
if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)
his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.
he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.
Floyd
he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.
I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.
his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.
he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.
this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).
he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.
he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.
he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.
will cry with you tbh.
he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.
Branch
branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.
so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.
he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.
he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.
If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.
"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"
once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.
he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.
afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.
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Creek
as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.
just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.
he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.
tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.
he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.
King Trollex
this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.
he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.
"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.
will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.
Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.
keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.
"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.
the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.
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merakiui · 4 months
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The Most Dangerous Game [1]
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yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, slight hints of dub-con, coercion, manipulation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, obsession, unrequited/one-sided love, brief angst, choking, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, characters written as 18+ note - it is never a good idea to make mutually beneficial arrangements with jade leech. // split into two parts due to size. read the second half here.
Even though Floyd has yet to invite you to any of his practices and games, you’ve attended each one like a diligent, dedicated, devoted parasite. You sit amongst a sea of faces and watch him dribble down the court, sweat clinging to every curvature of muscle that composes his well-built figure. He’s glowing down there, a radiant sun that everyone, both offense and defense, seems to revolve around. And when he scores—when his lips widen into that goofy, good-natured grin you adore so dearly—you’re the first to rise from the bench and cheer like a marionette on strings.
For all of your support, Floyd never looks your way.
Why should he? You cannot expect light to acknowledge shadow when both are so contrasting. Instead you’ve contented yourself with admiring him from afar, sectioned off from his brilliance with invisible barriers and walls. He’s something of a celebrity in your eyes—an untouchable, unfathomable star.
He’s the reason you’ve started wearing your makeup a certain way—lavender eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner and the softest touch of glitters upon your skin. He never notices; you never expect him to. He’s the reason you’ve applied for a job at the Mostro Lounge, swallowing the anxiety that comes with nerve-racking interviews and social interaction in hopes of getting hired. You failed both times (you talked too much in the first interview and in the second you didn’t talk enough).
By the third attempt, you’ve made a modicum of progress. You’re certain all is right in your world when you leave the VIP room, still fidgeting with post-interview jitters. As you wander through the glorious tunnel hall, awash in dappled light and mulling over the worth of the position you applied for and whether it’s the best for Floyd-watching, you happen to cross paths with your star.
And he is so bright today.
“Oh, Floyd, hello!”
He turns, assesses you with a fleeting once-over, and then hums his lazy greeting. “Sup, Shrimpy.”
Shrimpy. Even though he hardly spares you the time of day, hearing that nickname—the one reserved only for you—is enough to soothe the sting of cyclical, never-ending neglect.
“We might be coworkers soon,” you tell him, unable to contain your enthusiasm.
“That right?” 
You nod, rocking back and forth on your heels. “I look forward to working with you! Um… Maybe you can show me the ropes?”
Floyd considers it, his lips twisting into a disinterested half-frown. “We’ll see. It gets kinda busy and Azul’s always puttin’ me out on the floor. I dunno if I’d have enough time. ’Sides, he’ll probably want Jade teachin’ ya. He’s better at that stuff.”
“That’s okay! I can handle crowded,” you blurt, desperate to reel him in before he can slip through your fingers yet again, an eel in every sense of the word. “And I’m sure you’re just as good, if not better, than Jade!”
It’s worth it if we can be closer. If I can stand next to you, admire you, watch you work…
Floyd stares at your clasped hands. If he notices the way your fingernails—each painted a delicate purple—pierce your palms, he doesn’t comment. His mismatched gaze flicks to your face.
“Ya hafta get hired before any of that.”
“Ah, that’s true. Well, actually, I just came out of an interview. I think I did well.”
“Who knows,” he says, grinning, and your heart sprouts ivory wings, bone poking through organs to shred them into ribbons. Floyd leans in close, his face centimeters from yours, and you can smell the wild ocean that clings to him—the natural scent of his home mixed with sandalwood cologne. You’d devour him if you could, but then that would leave you with a pile of bones and you like the energetic life that is just barely contained within so much muscle. “Shrimpy’d look good in my uniform.”
And before you can boldly cover the remaining sliver of distance, he’s floating away with a mystical giggle, pulled from your proximity by some invisible force. You’d follow him down the hall if you weren’t so overcome with joyous shock, nearly folding in on yourself with a pulse so rapid you fear it’ll ascend into your throat. Beneath makeup so meticulously applied, your face is warming with a ferocious heat.
He said I’d look good in the uniform. 
Your hands press against your cheeks to quell spreading embarrassment, and you’re unable to suppress the toothy smile that pulls your lips apart.
No, not just that. He said I’d look good in his uniform. His uniform! Floyd said that. Floyd told me I would look good in his uniform!
The space between ribs and lungs suddenly becomes a cage filled with restless butterflies, each fluttering amidst pearly bone and velvety organs. You replay his words as if they are the finest song, a tune uniquely produced by Floyd, and it sets your heart on a frenzied track. But then it sinks into your stomach when you realize you forgot to reapply the expensive perfume you procured from Sam’s shop. Could he still faintly smell it even with the closeness? It’s sultry-sweet, smelling of vanilla, patchouli, and a handful of blossoms you can’t recall the names of.
You can, however, remember what the perfume is called—Date Night. You bought it solely because you were certain it would be to Floyd’s tastes, but even now, as you yank your sleeve up to sniff your wrist, you realize you have no idea what constitutes a pleasant scent for him. Like his moods, his interests are always mercurial. Today he might like youthful scents. Tomorrow he might prefer something mature. Next week he might hate both.
“Black orchid,” he says, and you whirl to face him, your tongue tied in knots.
“Flo—” It promptly unties itself the minute you recognize who stands before you. “Oh, it’s just you, Jade.”
“My, how dejected you sound. Have I made you unhappy?”
“Not at all. I just…thought you were Floyd for a minute.”
“Most often do.”
“Right.” You fold your arms behind your back, looking anywhere that isn’t at him. “Um… Could I trouble you with something?”
“I suppose I have enough time to lend a listening ear.”
“Okay, so I was interviewed again for a server position and I think I did well, but I’m still not sure if it was well enough. That’s why I’m hoping you might be able to put in a good word for me. Since you’re close with Azul, you know.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re as close as you think.”
You cut through him with a sharp scowl, unamused with whatever game he’s playing. “This is important.”
“As is the distinction in how we define closeness. Is it a matter of time that molds a bond, or is it a matter of physical proximity? For example, our proximity allows me to make note of your perfume. Would that make us just as close, if not closer, than where I stand with Azul?”
Your brow furrows, but then you’re grasping at his lapels, eyes wide and crazed. “You noticed?! Do you think Floyd would notice? Does he like black orchids?”
“He has a keen nose, yes.”
“But…”
Jade tilts his head at you, his hands closing around yours and expertly peeling them off. He smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his blazer. “There is no but.”
“But Floyd can’t identify flowers and he might not appreciate it like you do.” You peer at him, frowning. “There is a but. Two buts.”
“Ah, you know him well.”
“Hardly. I don’t even know if he likes this kind of perfume.”
“Have you tried asking?”
You open your mouth to answer—yes, yes of course!—but the lie sticks in your throat.
“My record is five minutes,” you say instead, which is arguably more telling than the inquiry you’ve left unanswered.
Jade raises a perfect eyebrow. “You keep track?”
“He usually gives me five minutes or however long his interest in me lasts. Sometimes he doesn’t even spare me a glance. I go to all of his games and practices. I cheer the loudest. I make sure to offer him a water bottle and towel after everything’s over. Still, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I’m only afforded a few minutes.”
“How unfortunate.”
“You don’t sound very sympathetic.”
Jade chuckles. “Am I meant to?”
Cold-hearted ass. Floyd would never be this mean to me.
You almost give him the pleasure of an icy retort, but you catch yourself. “Can you please just tell Azul to seriously consider me? I want to work at the lounge! And isn’t he always saying he could use more help? Well, here I am—and it’s all willing. No trick contracts necessary.”
Jade hums, stepping around you to assess…something. You aren’t quite sure what that something is, but after a moment of silence he looks at you and says, “The Mostro Lounge is an establishment, not a place for play.”
“I wouldn’t play. I’d work.”
“Work and play are essentially the same when you’re so blinded by certain distractions.”
Unsurprisingly, he sees through your motives. Jade has always been perceptive as a pinpoint, slicing to the heart of matters until the bitter truths leak out. Although your interest in Floyd has never been secret, it’s still troublesome that you can’t fool him with excuses.
Your shoulders deflate. “How else am I supposed to get closer to Floyd? I can’t join the basketball team and I might not get hired for the lounge. I can’t even transfer to Octavinelle either because I’m head of Ramshackle! This is so unfair.” To cement the complaint, you scuff your shoe against the tiles, huffing noisily. “I’m a loyal customer, too! I always pay the one drink minimum when I visit, and sometimes I get more than one just so Azul won’t kick me out for loitering. I even have the menu and its prices memorized by heart! I’d be a perfect worker.”
“And yet your only motivation for wanting to work is to see Floyd during his shifts.”
“Exactly! He served me once, you know. It was a really good day…”
You sigh, smiling dreamily as the memory surfaces like foam on a rising tide. He’d balanced the drink on a silver tray, weaving smoothly through the aisle spotted with servers and customers alike, and there was a certain bounce in his step. It was a great day solely because Floyd’s mood was sunny, and when he’s pleased you’re pleased. When he stopped at your table, he set the drink down—a fizzy slush dyed blue and purple—and said, “Shrimpy likes sweet stuff, yeah?”
Not always, you thought, but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, savoring his voice more than the pretty presentation itself. You purchased this one solely because it reminded you of the Coral Sea and its ice floes during winter. Floyd didn’t seem to make the connection, but you didn’t expect him to. Just knowing he was the one handling your beverage was enough for you. You must have been admiring him for too long because he was smiling the next moment, one arm draped over the booth so he could observe you much closer than before. You’d shrunk into the booth, fearing he’d taken issue with such blatant staring.
And then he giggled, angling his head in that cute, childish way. “Shrimpy’s eyes are reeeal pretty.” He hummed to himself, seeming satisfied with your mute shock. “Just like shiny stones.”
If you had been sipping, you’re certain the fruity liquid would have gone down with a choke. Before you could insist on an elaboration—what sort of stone? Why do you say that? Are they really that pretty?—he was slinking away, practically sparkling with a potent thrill.
For the rest of the time you spent in the lounge, your heart was packed full of feathers.
“He said my eyes were pretty. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“It’s the truth,” Jade echoes, a hand held over his heart. “When the light hits your eyes at the right—”
“Oh!” Your exclamation seems to startle him, but you pay it no mind. “Azul probably thinks I’ll be subpar because of my interest in Floyd, but if I can prove that I won’t be distracted he’ll definitely hire me!”
“I…” He pauses, furrows his brows briefly, and then assumes his usual countenance. You miss the flicker of hurt that fizzles out in his eyes, snuffed like candlelight at midnight. “I suppose it would certainly give you a better chance at securing a position.”
“Then I’ll just say everything I’ve always wanted to tell him and I’ll be able to focus.”
“My, aren’t you a bold thing?”
“You wish. There’s no way I could do something like that.” You clap your hands and raise them above your head in pleading prayer. “So please let me practice on you instead!”
“Practice?” He blinks. “On me?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” Huffing, you reach up and flick his forehead, a daring gesture that might’ve earned his ire if he wasn’t smiling like a scheming devil. “You’re Floyd’s twin. If I pretend you’re him and run through a practice speech, it’ll be easier to confess when the time comes.”
“Do you honestly think so?” His feet carry him towards the lounge, shoes clicking out a rhythm of departure. “I’m afraid I’m not a charity. You’d have much better luck discussing your problem with Azul.”
He’s deliberate in his movements. If he walks away from you, it’ll leave you with a sense of urgency—if you don’t negotiate a deal now the discussion will end here and you’ll never have another chance to broach this subject again. You know his game. You hate his game, but playing it is the only way to get through to him.
He really does look like Floyd when his back is turned, and watching him walk away from you is more agonizing than a knife to the stomach.
Swallowing your rationality, you hasten your steps and seize his arm. He stops and cranes his neck to peer at you.
“Wait. Just…” You scowl at the floor, hot with shame. “Please help me. I’ll do whatever you want in return. Just let me run a practice confession by you and then I’ll never bother you again.”
“You were so confident before. Where’d your bravado go? If you’re going to confess, you must have courage.” You can’t bear to lift your head to view his knowing smirk. “I’m even willing to cheer for you.”
“Stop dragging this out. Just tell me what you want.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” Lithe fingers curl under your chin to raise your stare to his. His eyes flash with mischief, softening in a way that’s so reminiscent of his brother. And then, as if to inflict even more emotional damage, he adds in Floyd’s nasally timbre, “Shrimpy likes havin’ fun, yeah?”
Oh.
Oh, he’s good.
Too good.
You jerk back so fast that your sneakers squeak on the floor, gratingly explosive in the otherwise empty, silent hall.
“You… You—how did you—” Your heart is thrumming beneath your shirt, a ticking bomb just waiting to blow your chest open. “That was a perfect impression of Floyd.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m merely putting on a voice.”
“No, it’s really special. It’s everything!” You twirl towards the glass, suppressing a squeal. “That was so Floyd! I can’t believe you can do such a good impersonation! Jade, this changes everything. You’re just what I need to make this confession work!”
He stares at you as you spin and giggle like a drunken ballerina. “Is that so?”
“Yes! Very so!” You skip over to him and clutch his hands, grinning like a maniac. “Please help me with this and I’ll do whatever you want. And if I get hired, I’ll pull more than my weight! I promise!”
He peers at your face, speechless for a brief second, before his heterochromatic hues flick to your hands clasped around his. “Very well. I’ll help you, but in return I’d like your assistance with something.”
“With what? Come on, Jade. Don’t be an ass.”
“I would never.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
He chuckles. “I’d like a taste-tester.”
“A…taste-tester?”
“You heard correctly.”
“For the lounge?”
“For my own personal hobby.” He smiles sincerely—or about as sincere as he can get when he’s Jade Leech—and adds in a mournful tone, “Azul and Floyd are rather stubborn when it comes to trying my mushroom dishes, so I would appreciate it if you could offer your time and taste buds in exchange for my aid.”
“Oh. Wait, really? You’re serious?” You narrow your eyes. “Somehow I don’t believe that’s all you want…”
“Are you willing to offer more? If so, I’d gladly like a mindless scapegoat who will do anything and everything I ask without question, a personal assistant who excels in mathematics for calculating the lounge’s monetary affairs, and a—”
“Yeah, I think I’ll stick with being your taste-tester. Those other occupations don’t sound very fun.”
“Then if we’re both in agreement, shall we shake on it?” He extends a gloved hand. You peer at it, hesitant. “Well, how about it? I’ll be your Floyd if you’ll be my Shrimpy.”
“And you promise I’ll get hired?”
“I never said that. However, if you do manage to claw your way into the lounge, congratulations will be in order.” Gracefully, he removes his scarf and wraps it around your waist to draw you in closer. The slightest scent of brine clings to him, but beneath that there are notes of lavender and vanilla. A fragrance that could be Floyd’s if you deceive yourself. With a sly grin, he murmurs in Floyd’s voice, “Ya’d look damn fine in my uniform.”
For a moment, you stare at him, unblinkingly infatuated, before a smile sharpens on your lips. You twirl out of his grasp, taking his scarf with you. Closing your hand around his, you meet his tone-toned eyes and shake firmly.
“I’d look even better beneath you,” you tease, captivating with an addictive, amorous charm, and return his scarf to its rightful place upon his shoulders. “I look forward to working with you, Jade. In more ways than one.”
You swipe invisible dust particles from his blazer and take a step back to admire your handiwork. Before he can get another word in, you’re strutting down the tunnel hall, bathed in whimsical blues, and humming a fluttery tune. Jade gazes at the space you once occupied. He brings two fingers up to his neck to feel his pulse. It’s pounding beneath his touch, a rush of blood and endorphins. With a trembling inhalation, he holds his breath, lowers his arm, adjusts his scarf, and peers at his reflection in the glass. Exhaling slowly, he notices his cheeks are tinged pink.
“The figures for this month’s budget…” he mumbles, continuing on his way, his shoes clicking a steady rhythm upon the tiled floor. He’s calculating the numbers, but they hardly matter when his thoughts drift elsewhere. “The figures for…the budget.”
Gradually, color drains from his face until he’s pale as paper, stoic as stone, but his restless heart continues to run laps within his ribs.
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“So this is the kitchen,” you marvel, admiring the cramped space for a short moment before peering at your distorted reflection in a metal colander. “It’s smaller than I imagined.”
“The dorm kitchen is much larger. Keep in mind the Mostro Lounge is merely a sliver of space Azul acquired. It’s only natural that it’s smaller,” Jade explains, as if it’s riveting information you absolutely must know. He’s flipping through a thick cookbook and scanning each recipe. “You should familiarize yourself with the layout if you intend to work here.”
“I’ll do that when I get hired.”
“If you get hired.”
“When I get hired, asshole.”
He tuts. “One of the basic requirements for becoming a Mostro Lounge employee is that you must display a certain level of maturity and respect, both of which you seem to lack.”
With a scowl, you turn away from the array of hanging kitchen utensils. “I have plenty of both.”
“Is that so? I couldn’t tell.”
“Floyd doesn’t have either and you let him slide.”
“Well, of course. I would never police his habits, or lack thereof. Why should I risk relinquishing my front row seat for free entertainment just for the sake of peacekeeping?”
With a petulant eye-roll, you stalk towards the countertop and lean against it with your arms folded. Jade glances at you.
“So why’d you have me come here again? I wanna go back to Ramshackle and sleep.”
“If I recall, you wanted to practice your confession.”
“Here?” When he nods, you gasp. “No way! I can’t confess in a kitchen—of all places. That’s not romantic at all.”
Jade angles his body towards you. “Any place can be romantic enough if you make it so.”
“I’m not confessing in a kitchen, Jade.”
“Not even during the intimate hours of night?”
“Not a chance.”
“In that case, what are your preferences?”
Taking pause, you consider the many locations spread across Night Raven’s spacious campus. Floyd has always been so spontaneous, so it’s difficult to determine which places he might frequent. With a furrowed brow, you narrow your list to four key spots.
“The botanical garden, the locker room, the library, and Floyd’s room,” you admit, ticking each off on your fingers.
“A locker room doesn’t seem very romantically appealing. Ah, might this be a human’s ideal aesthetic?”
“Not exactly, but imagine how perfect it’d be if I caught him after one of his games and confessed! It would totally look like a scene from a movie, right?”
With a halfhearted, mostly distracted hum, he traces a finger down the length of the page and then draws away to procure the needed ingredients. You watch him, noting a bowl piled with mushrooms and a cutting board already situated near the cookbook. Jade flits about the kitchen with the grace of a ballerina, his long legs carrying him to and fro in the small space. By the time he’s returned to the island in the center, you’ve already read through the recipe.
“Mushroom brownies?”
“Precisely.” He smiles at you, his eyes bright under the dim kitchen lights. “The healthy kind.”
You peer at him and frown. “Healthy as in good-alternative-to-junk-food healthy or…”
“Your distrust stings. When have I ever strayed from a recipe? It doesn’t call for hallucinogenic or poisonous mushrooms, so I won’t add any.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He sets the items on the countertop. “Perhaps you’ll have to watch carefully then. My hand might just slip…”
“I’m supposed to practice a confession. I can’t do that when I’m dying!”
“And in compliance with our deal you’re required to share your opinions on my cooking, so fortunately for you I must keep you alive.” Jade tilts his head at you, beaming amiably, and pushes the bowl of mushrooms into your chest. “Now if you would be so kind, please wash these mushrooms for me.”
Your fingers curl around the bowl and, grabbing the colander from off its hook along the way, you drag yourself over to the sink. “Fine, fine. But please promise these won’t kill me or make me see and feel things.”
“You have my word.” His hand splays across his chest, a genuine gesture of honesty. At least you hope that’s what it is. “Those mushrooms are safe to consume. In fact, the Agaricus bisporus is known to be very low in calories and sugar. You’ll get lots of protein and vitamin D from them, which is why they’re often used in nutritional, plant-based dishes. Hence why they’re a key ingredient in this recipe.”
“Is that right?” You set the strainer down and empty the contents of the bowl into it.
“Indeed. I managed to find quite a few on my last hike and so I’ve been saving them for this very moment.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re in the Mountain Lovers Club.”
There’s a brief silence and then Jade asks, “You were aware?”
“I found out from Floyd during that one time Vargas made us all go camping. He said you were pretty bummed about not being able to go, but you really didn’t miss much. I, on the other hand, did.” You twist the knob and cold water spills from the faucet, wetting the mushrooms and washing away soil and grime at once. “I heard Floyd and the others went up against Vargas. I would’ve loved to see it, but instead I was tied to a tree.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“It was such a lame way to spend my evening. I would give anything to watch Floyd in his mer form. Curse Vargas! It’s his fault I missed the fight!”
“Why not ask? I’m sure he’ll show you if you’re so desperate—ah, forgive me—curious to see.”
“Maybe.” You shake the colander to stir its contents and sigh, reminiscing the few times you’ve witnessed Floyd in his element. “He’s really handsome…”
“So you’ve said.”
“I wish he’d talk to me more.”
“So you’ve griped.”
You whirl to pin him with a hateful scowl. “You’re not helping.”
Jade giggles. “Aw. Is Shrimpy sad I’m not givin’ her enough attention?”
You open your mouth to snap at him—not funny, asshole—and immediately close it. Lowering your gaze to the mushrooms, you grip the handles of the colander more tightly.
“Yeah,” you mumble instead, shaking off any form of shame that attempts to crawl its way up your spine. “Yeah, I’m sad. Really sad! I want to have a genuine conversation with you, but I can never get past feeling so…amazed. Like… Like everything that leaves my mouth—I feel like it’ll sound stupid and then you’ll think I’m weird or boring. I just… I’ve always liked you, but I can never put it into eloquent terms and so instead all I can do is admire you from afar and hope you’ll come talk to me.”
Exhausted from your word vomit, you wilt against the sink. And then, before you can think to turn around, a pair of hands rest upon your waist and you turn to find Floyd pressing himself against you. He smiles and runs his hands up the length of your hips, mapping your body’s shape with delicate strokes.
“No need to be so tongue-tied,” he says, resting his chin upon your shoulder. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, wispy and tantalizing. Instinctively, you shudder, pushing back against him, your eyes darting from the hands that cage you in on either side to his face, so close you could practically yank him by the collar and kiss him. “I don’t need fancy words. Just be yourself and talk to me. S’not so hard, yeah?”
“But it is!” you insist with a whine. “It is when I… When you… When… Ugh! It’s impossible!”
“But you’re talkin’ to me just fine. What’s so different?”
“Because… Because you’re just like Floyd and this confession sucks!”
Like a spell that’s been broken, the sensual tension dissipates before it can reach its peak and you find yourself standing rigidly straight between Jade’s arms, the silence only shattered by the rushing water. He blinks, momentarily stunned, before clearing his throat.
“My apologies. I assumed this method would help resolve some of your reservations regarding Floyd.”
You tear your eyes away from him, settling on the floor tiles beneath your feet. “It helped too much. It felt so…real.” With an embarrassed groan, you reach to turn off the faucet just as Jade does, and his hand covers yours like a blanket. You manage a sheepish half-smile. “Sorry for being a mess.”
His features soften considerably. “Let’s split the blame evenly and be a mess together. How does that sound?”
You snort. “That definitely makes the shame tolerable.”
With his hand still on yours, the two of you twist the handle and the flowing water ceases. He seems to remember you’re still holding the colander, for he nods towards it and then withdraws.
“The mushrooms look clean enough. Let’s take a break and bake the brownies. After that, we’ll try a new approach.”
“That sounds good!” Confidence partially restored, you empty the mushrooms into the bowl and skip over to him. “Do you usually forage for ingredients by yourself? Doesn’t anyone want to go with you?”
“Well, Azul doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for my hobbies, and Floyd doesn’t fancy mushrooms.”
“I meant someone aside from those two.”
“Then no. I’m afraid I’m all alone on my excursions.”
You poke at a bulbous button mushroom. “Why’s that?” And then you hastily add, “Never mind. You’re you, so of course no one wants to go.”
Jade gathers a handful of mushrooms, sets them down on the cutting board, and gently pats them down with a paper towel. “I don’t mind solitude. In fact, it’s quite comfortable.”
You pass him a knife. “I’ll join you on your next club thing.”
He stares at you, astonished. “Will you now?”
“Yes, I will! I want to collect cool-looking rocks.”
“Cool-looking rocks…” he repeats and slowly runs the knife through the mushroom held between his fingertips. “You want to accompany me on a hike for the purpose of finding…cool-looking rocks?” 
“You’re correct. Or am I going to interrupt your comfortable alone time?”
“For a reason as wonderful as the one you’ve proposed, I’d say you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”
“Hell yeah!” You bump your hip against his, giggling. “Rock hunting with Jade! I can’t wait!”
He peers at your waist for an abnormally long time before asking, “I assume you want to find rocks for Floyd?”
“Mhm! He gave me a pretty stone once and I’ve displayed it on the mantel ever since. I pat it every morning before leaving for class.”
“How routinely predictable of you.”
“Why, thank you.” You procure a knife for yourself and, setting a handful of mushrooms on the board, mimic Jade’s precise actions. “It’s been my good luck charm ever since.”
“If I may pry, why did you take a liking to my brother?”
“If I’m allowed to interrupt, then you’re allowed to pry. For now. As for why I like Floyd… I guess it started shortly after we first met. I thought he was scary at first—and he was—but he’s really sweet once you get to know him. And there’s something so…Floyd about him.” You gaze at Jade. “You know?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Please enlighten me.”
He slides the rest of his mushrooms towards you and busies himself with opening a package of medjool dates. While considering your response, you watch him pit each one before setting them aside to be diced. Eventually, you decide on a solid answer.
“Well, he’s always himself. He doesn’t care what others think. He’s energetic and playful. He’s annoying in the best ways, and he’s really smart when he applies himself!”
“So far you’ve only listed adjectives. I fail to see how any of that explains your feelings.”
“That’s just it! It’s difficult to put it into words. I like Floyd because he’s Floyd. Because he’s entirely himself without any restraint. Because he’s lovable and funny without trying to be. Because he’s always nice to the ones he cares for. Because he’s genuinely, honestly, unapologetically Floyd.”
Jade’s hand slows and with it the knife comes to a halt. His knuckles whiten around the handle. “Well.” He shuts his mouth, stares at the oven as it preheats, and fixes his lips into a thin smile. “Those are certainly heartfelt sentiments. I’m sure Floyd would appreciate them if you told him.”
“But I can’t! I have to prepare myself for the inevitable rejection and I’m just not ready yet. Not to mention, I can hardly hold a conversation with him without sounding awkward! It’s impossible, Jade. He makes me feel stupid.”
“Stupid in love.”
You shove him lightly. “Hush.”
“Perhaps…” He reaches for your free hand, fingers twining with yours. “You needn’t speak at all.”
“What’re you getting at?”
“Body language is a very important facet of moray courtship. I could teach you. Alas, if you’d prefer to do this the human way…”
“Moray courtship?”
“You aren’t aware? It’s rather fascinating to land-dwellers.”
“What is it? Is it like a kiss on the cheek and then you’re married? If that’s the case, all I need to do is kiss Floyd and—”
“Not quite. It’s much more complicated than that. Although I suppose a kiss is just as meaningful on land as it is in the sea.” Jade’s leaning in now, his face centimeters from yours. “Well? Why not tell me all the things you wish to express to Floyd in a single kiss?”
“But…” You turn your face away from him. “I can’t. I’m saving my first kiss for Floyd.”
There’s a stifling silence that fills the space between you and Jade. For a minute, you think he might break your wrist, what with how tight his grip has become, but then it loosens. He runs a hand through his hair to tousle it in a way that’s reminiscent of Floyd’s disheveled style. When you look at him again, he’s Floyd.
He’s not. You know he’s not. You tell yourself he’s not. But tonight he’s temporarily Floyd, and that lie patches an empty hole in your heart.
“Hmm? Savin’ a single smooch for me? Shrimpy’s too nice. I gotta pay ya back for bein’ so cute.”
“Jade—”
“S’not fair to say another guy’s name when I’m here. Ya want me to squeeze ya out? Well, do ya?”
Stop pretending! you think, torn between what you want to do and what you shouldn’t do. But if I practice on him… No. No, I can’t do that to Jade. It won’t mean anything and first kisses are supposed to be special. But he’s right here in front of me, and he sounds and looks just like Floyd. Damn it! Maybe it doesn’t have to count as my first kiss. Just one kiss. Just so I know what I’m working with. That’s all there is to it. A new approach—like what Jade said. Kissing instead of talking. I can do that.
You swallow every logical inhibition, each one burning your throat like fiery whiskey, and set the knife beside the chopped mushrooms. You admire his toothy grin, ignoring the strand of hair that falls in the wrong place, and tug him towards you by both ends of his scarf. His breath ghosts over your lips, and suddenly your entire throat feels dry and your palms are clammy with sweat.
It’s just one kiss.
Your mouth fits awkwardly on his at first, hesitant like you’re attempting to force the wrong pair of puzzle pieces together, and you fumble for a place to put your hands after he’s gathered you in his arms. With your eyelids fluttering shut, you attempt to lose yourself in the moment, in the sounds of your frantic heartbeat as he tilts your head, gently molding your lips to his, and eventually everything clicks into place. You lace your arms around his neck, the stiffness in your shoulders slackening, and part your lips to offer more of yourself to him. Floyd’s a brilliant kisser, all rough edges smoothed out in a kiss that’s so short you greedily pursue him for more.
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, stroking along your jaw. And you comply, desperate to please, to be all that he ever sees. He laughs, breathlessly alive with energy, and sandwiches your face between large, smooth palms. His thumbs hook into your mouth, prodding playfully at your tongue. “Not too wide, Shrimpy. Else you’ll send a totally different message…”
You’re adrift in his arms, heart aflutter with adoration, brain fuzzy with cotton fluff and static, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling like a fool when you pull away. “Your lips are soft…”
He giggles and runs his index over your plush lips. “Shrimpy’s softer. Sweeter, too.”
“I hope…” You wipe saliva from your mouth, looking everywhere but at him. Your nerves are buzzing with adrenaline. I kissed Floyd. I kissed Floyd. We just kissed. “I hope kissing conveyed my feelings for you.”
“Mm, hard to say. Ya gotta do somethin’ more than once, otherwise it’s never gonna stick.”
“Wait. What do you mean by—”
He’s leaning in again, his lips brushing yours, and this time you’re clinging to him, so ready and willing to have your breath stolen yet again. Unfortunately, before the kiss can deepen any more than before, the oven beeps, shattering the fantasy that’s been building over time. You tear yourself away from Floyd, panting from both the exhilaration and the embarrassment, and gaze at the oven.
“Oh… The oven… Right. Yeah. Brownies.” Flustered, you pat his rumpled uniform—just how hard were you gripping his clothes?—and take a measured step away from him. “We’re baking brownies.”
Floyd—no, Jade watches you skim through the recipe. He presses two fingers to his mouth and traces his bottom lip. In the heat of your inexperience, you nipped at that very spot, your blunt teeth almost clicking against his razored ones. He returned the favor, nibbling your lip between his pearly points, led on by the welcoming warmth of your body pinned to his. Though he didn’t break skin, the thought that he could’ve—that he could’ve tilted your head back, bitten your lips bloody, and savored slick iron—is a delicious temptation.
A faint heartbeat thrums beneath the pads of his fingers, nestled deep within the flesh of his lips. His chest is tightly wound, not yet close to bursting, and when he inhales it’s thorned wire—painfully unpleasant.
He kissed you.
“Okay… Okay. Mushrooms finely chopped. Done. Now… Next—uh. Combine the minced dates and mushrooms. Easy enough. I’ll…put them in a bowl.”
Surfacing from the enchanting trance of the past few minutes, you and Jade soon begin to work in tandem, wordlessly following the recipe step by step. Unlike previous times, this silence isn’t nearly as overwhelming. You’re certain it’s only because the both of you are so focused on baking, too distracted to confront the matter at hand, but a deeper part of you says otherwise. And you’ll never confirm this unless you take a hammer to the ice barricade that has erected itself between you and him.
Sighing, you place a tray now filled with brownie batter in the oven, shut the door, and set the timer. Jade’s stare bores into your back every step of the way—as it has been for the past fifteen minutes you’ve refused to meet his gaze. Now you turn around, and immediately your face begins to warm.
“A-About everything that happened…” you start, watching him as he works to clean the countertop. It’s now or never—say it before you lose your nerve and shame devours you in one ruthless bite. “Maybe it’s asking too much, but can you teach me more about moray courtship?”
His posture seems to become even more prim and proper upon hearing your request. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to—”
“But as Floyd! You have to teach me as Floyd.”
Jade’s hand, which had previously been wiping a layer of almond flour away with a rag, stills. He nods and resumes cleaning seconds later. “Of course. As per our agreement, I’m meant to be your Floyd. I wouldn’t teach you as anyone else.”
“Okay. All right. Cool.” You gather the dirty dishes and bring them to the sink, shaking off your apprehensions as you go. “If I know moray courtship, I’ll be able to craft a better confession. Or we could kiss and maybe he’ll understand what I’m trying to say.”
“In that case, you may want to improve your technique.”
“Shut up! My technique is… Actually, yeah, you’re right. It’s a mess. I suck at kissing.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. You just need practice.” Jade meets you at the sink and offers you a washcloth. “I’d be more than happy to be your practice partner.”
You scowl at him, unimpressed with his friendly nonchalance. “You just want to see me fail when I try to kiss you.”
“That’s an added bonus.”
Rolling your eyes, you snatch the rag from him. “So how exactly is kissing part of moray courtship?”
“It’s not. Kissing is just a basic form of showing affection. All mers kiss, just like how all humans kiss. There isn’t much significance.”
You stare at him, your fingers curled into the sodden dishrag, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. Jade chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, and guides your mouth shut with his slender index.
“Now a mouth left agape… You’re dangerously bold, Shrimpy.”
“You… Y-You… You!” Acting purely on instinctive impulse, you cup water in your palms and toss it at him. He doesn’t do anything to dodge, allowing the water to soak through his uniform with a patient smile. “You’re the worst! I genuinely believed you!”
“Obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so willing to kiss me.”
“Not you!” You try to slap him and this time he smoothly side-steps your flailing arm. “Floyd, Jade! I want to kiss Floyd!” 
“And you will.” He shrugs his blazer off, folding it neatly, before adding slyly, “In your dreams.”
You round on him, intending to smack him silly, but he catches your wrist. Your face explodes with a newfound warmth and you rip your arm free, loathing his growing smirk with every passing second. Grumbling a slew of empty threats, you distract yourself with the dishes. Jade observes you as you clean a bowl, content to exist in silence once more. It’s a relief for you because you no longer have to battle his scintillating wit or entertain more annoying banter. But the longer you spend at the sink, meticulously scrubbing, the more you linger on the past few events.
You kissed him, and it wasn’t as terrible as you thought it’d be—likely because he was Floyd during that moment. Even the words that left his mouth were so undeniably Floyd, filled with a fondness only he’s capable of twining throughout his speech. And hearing that prized nickname Floyd reserves for you was more magical than any sort of delusion you might conjure in a dreamscape.
Despite the fact that the kiss had been the result of your inability to see through a simple trick, it did, embarrassingly enough, soothe your fear of rejection. If it’s Jade impersonating Floyd, you’ll never need to mourn whether or not your feelings will be reciprocated. And isn’t that just the perfect panacea to your situation?
If it’s Jade, you can immerse yourself in the romance you’ve always wanted with Floyd.
If it’s Jade, you’re allowed to be delusional and lovesick because it’s only a game.
That’s all it will be. A game. A dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. And in this game, both sides can win. You get love from Floyd, and in return Jade gets critique on his cooking. It’s a beautiful arrangement, so why should you spend time regretting and fretting over little details that will sour your fluffy fantasy?
“If you’re actually going to teach me moray courtship—real moray courtship—” you begin, choosing each individual word with the utmost care, “Floyd can’t know about this. It has to stay between us.”
Jade pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “It shall be our special secret.”
You stare at him, brows knitted in scrutiny.
Jade allows this to carry on for an extended moment before asking, “What reason would I have to disclose our private affairs to Floyd?”
“I dunno. Maybe sabotage my chances with him? Make him think I’m weird? Make him hate me?”
“All wonderful ideas, but I’m not that viciously vindictive.”
“You literally are.”
“I literally am not,” he mimics with a sharp smile.
You groan and set the final dish in the drying rack. Wringing excess water from the rag, you pretend it’s Jade. He’s lucky he has his brother’s face, or else you never would have considered agreeing to an arrangement as wildly detrimental as this.
“So why brownies?”
“Why not?”
“Fair.” Drying your hands on your shirt, you walk over to the island, where two stools have been positioned near it. You lower onto the one across from Jade and prop your elbows on the countertop. “You know, I never took you for a sweets guy. Or should I say a sweets eel?”
He chuckles, heterochromatic hues glittering in the amber light. “Confections are rather scarce under the sea, and since I’m here on land I might as well explore all manner of culinary delights.” He leans over the table, nearly conspiratorial, his head angled almost adorably. “Especially sweets.”
“No sweets in the Coral Sea, huh? Then what’d you eat in place of that?”
“Our diets usually consist of a variety of fish and crustaceans. However, at establishments like the one Azul’s mother manages, you can find all kinds of desserts. Sugar is considered a luxury where I’m from, hence why it’s so popular at undersea restaurants. And like most land products that aren’t compatible with water, it’s imported from the surface and stored with magic.”
“Oh, so it’s kinda like fish eggs. They’re a wealthy thing here on land. Except I don’t think fish eggs need to be stored with magic…”
“I suppose that’s one way of connecting the similarity. Sugar is plentiful on land, whereas it’s scarce in the sea. And there’s no shortage of eggs where I come from.”
“That makes sense.” Jade nods but refuses to elaborate further on the subject and so, rather clumsily, you attempt to segue into another topic. “Do you prefer life up here to life down there?”
“Well, I’m always going to be a moray. That fact will never change.”
“But if you had to choose land or sea, which one would it be?”
“If I had to choose between the two… Both are charming in their own ways, each with different appeals, and not every mer is granted the opportunity to live so freely on land.” He hums, considering. “If you were in my position, what would you pick?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “How artfully you dodge the question… But if I was picking, I guess I’d go wherever Floyd goes.”
“Oh?”
“If we’re married, I mean! Or in a relationship of some sort. I’d go wherever my partner’s going because anywhere will be wonderful with them by my side. We’d have fun together, see new things, and enjoy each other’s company. The place is just a plus. What matters most is that I’m with someone I care about and we’re making memories together.”
“How nice of you to confine yourself to such a romantic delusion.”
“Says the guy who avoided answering,” you snap, turning your chin up with a huff.
“Perhaps it’s avaricious, but if it’s acceptable I’d like to choose both the land and the sea.”
“Greedy. Greedy.” You tut at him.
His lips curve up with a sincerity you’ve never seen before. “One day I wish to show my beloved the wonders of the sea, and I hope she’ll be willing to share the beauty of the surface with me in return. But if she isn’t very partial to the cold, dark depths, we could live on the land before retiring to the sea as we near the end of our lives. My preferences needn’t be considered so long as she’s content.”
“Now who’s the delusional romantic?”
“Is sharing a life with the one you treasure most not a saccharine ideal?”
As if in agreement, the timer on the oven pings and Jade rises from his seat. You sit with his question, mulling it over like it’s the world’s most complex mathematical equation. But it only takes your brain seconds to arrive at a truthful answer.
Of course I want to share my life with the one I love. Preferably with Floyd…
But that presents another question: What sort of future would Floyd want? Perhaps he’s like Jade and wouldn’t care where he settles so long as he’s with his special someone, or maybe he has a sentimental attachment to the sea and would rather shed his human form and exist in the deep, spiraling blue. Maybe he’d make an exception for you and keep his feet planted on the ground. There are so many possibilities with him, and each one is more random than the last. The longer you dwell on it, the more uncertain you become. Jade’s viewpoint is so agreeable, but it isn’t Jade you want to spend an eternity with. His words are not Floyd’s, however much you wish they were, and you’ll never know what Floyd wants unless you ask and get it right from the source.
But you can’t because you fear surpassing the boundaries of the friendship you’ve worked so hard to maintain. If that crumbles all because you were too blinded by your heart’s desires, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Why is love so hard?” you bemoan just as Jade places the tray on a cork trivet. He slides the oven mittens from off his hands, sparing you a glance before leaving to pour two glasses of milk for the both of you. And then, after hanging the mittens where they belong, he selects a knife from the block and returns. While he scores the brownies into squares, you watch steamy strands curl up in a hypnotic dance. “Love should be sweet without any sadness. Like a brownie! It’s delicious and makes you happy when you eat it.”
“If that was the case, it would be much easier to digest when it isn’t reciprocated.”
“Right! If I’m able to experience a sweet heartbreak, I can move on quickly.” You avert your gaze. “I hope…”
Sighing, somewhat sympathetic, he slides a plate and glass towards you. “For now, why not start small?”
You take the fork he offers next and poke at the dessert. And then you snort, a wide, silly smile blossoming on your features. “You just want my critique.”
“Indeed. Minus the sob story, if possible.”
“Yeah, whatever.” You stab a sliver of the brownie and bring it to your lips. “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to be a taste-tester? Why’d I end up helping you bake?”
“The results of a team effort often taste more delicious, do they not?”
“We’ll see.” You chew slowly at first, expecting the rubbery earthiness of a mushroom. Instead, you find yourself indulging in the rich taste of chocolate. Humming your approval, you eat another bite. “It’s way better than I thought! To think mushrooms could make a dessert so yummy… No wonder why you like them so much. They’re very versatile.”
Jade’s shoulders seem to droop, as if he’s just been relieved of some terrible tension, and a smile flickers on his lips. “I’m pleased it’s to your liking.”
“Mhm!” You lick chocolate smears from the prongs of your fork. Jade tracks the movement of your tongue, but you don’t seem to notice as you work to polish off the brownie. “I’d say it’s a ten out of ten.”
“And so the judge has spoken,” he jests, sampling the brownie on his plate. He nods to himself. “I agree with your assessment. This dish is certainly worthy of praise.”
You sip from your glass next, eyeing him as he runs his fork through the brownie. “I’m not a food critic, so I don’t know what else to say other than it’s delicious and not overwhelmingly sugary. It’s a fun way to mix mushrooms and dessert. So… Uh, bravo? Go us?”
Jade hums around a mouthful. “Your honesty is much appreciated.”
“Should we save some for Floyd? I know mushrooms aren’t his thing, but he likes candy and we don’t have to tell him the ingredients.”
“So you’d rather lie.”
“Not lie. Just…skirt around the details. I think he’d enjoy them.”
“He’ll enjoy squeezing you once he learns you indirectly fed him mushrooms.”
You slap your hands on the countertop and jump up from your seat. Jade blinks at you, fork poised at his mouth. “Wait! I’ve got it! Maybe a kitchen confession is worth it. I could invite Floyd to cook with me and when we’re in the middle of everything I can confess. Then I won’t have to trouble him in the locker room—because chances are, if his team lost, he might be in a bad mood—and I won’t bother you either if I try confessing in his room—because you share a room. The botanical garden would be nice, but I have no idea when or if Floyd would ever visit. And the library… Oh! Maybe a study session? Or should I try tutoring him? But then I’m also not getting high scores and I don’t know how romantic studying is…”
A laugh that sounds more like a gasp yanks you from your hasty monologue, and your quizzical stare slices through him. He covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking, and you think you see tears spotting his lash line.
“Forgive me,” he says after he’s calmed down. (You won’t.) He dabs at the corners of his eyes with a napkin. “It was so pitifully amusing I couldn’t contain myself.”
Your glower is as fierce as the humiliation. “S-Shut up! You wouldn’t know anything about how it feels to be in love! I want the location and my confession to be perfect because that’s what Floyd deserves. Laugh all you want—I’m going to confess! E-Eventually…”
“You’ll get there one day. Until then, I look forward to witnessing this spectacle.”
“You’re seriously the worst.” Scoffing, you have enough decency to clear your area at the island before rounding on him, jabbing your finger at him in accusation. “And because of that I rescind my previous compliments! The brownie is a solid eight now.”
“Only an eight?”
“Seven. We can go lower.”
“We certainly can.”
The look he gives you is nothing short of lascivious, and your heart leaps up into your throat. Jade steeples his hands like he’s about to brief you on some confidential mission while his eyes rove your body from top to bottom. Even though you’re fully clothed, you feel vulnerable and bare standing before him.
“We certainly won’t,” you retort, clipped and curt. To give your hands something to do, you check the time on your phone. “It’s late. I should get back to my dorm.”
Jade smirks at your not-so-subtle escape attempt. He gestures to the brownies. “Why not take some for yourself? It wouldn’t be very fair if I kept all of the spoils after you put in the time and effort to help.”
“I don’t want any.”
“Would you take some if I was Floyd?”
“Yeah, obviously. Taking anything from you feels like a trap just waiting to be sprung.”
“How cruel. I mean well this time.”
You’re already walking towards the door. “You keep it. It’s your food anyway. I’m only supposed to try it and judge.”
Jade stands from his seat to meet you at the doorway. You turn to view him. He’s holding the tray like it’s a consolation cake. “Won’t you take a sliver? You can have it for breakfast tomorrow morning. Doesn’t that sound marvelous? A delicious brownie with some milk—the only way to start your day, no?”
“Jade.” Your voice takes on a sultry purr, and you bat your eyelashes at him. His entire body seems to perk up at this, and for a moment he reminds you of Floyd with his tightly wound mannerisms, each one unfurling like a sporadic spool of thread when he’s interested in something. If there were stars in his eyes, you’re certain his gaze would hold an entire galaxy with how they sparkle hopefully. “If I take a slice, will you stop being so pushy?”
A Cheshire smile curls upon his lips. “That’s all you needed to say.”
To spite you—or sweeten your sour attitude—Jade sends you home with the entire tray.
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The botanical garden is bursting with vibrant life, housing plants of all species, each flourishing within the sticky humidity that blankets the expansive space. You undo a button on your blouse, desperate to abandon your layers in hopes of cooling off. There’s a book in your hands, opened to a page with scientific names and facts of specific flowers. The one you’re currently searching for is a heliotrope. According to this helpful guide, it’s a beautiful bloom meaning eternal love.
It’s the perfect gift to pair with your work-in-progress confession. And, to make it even more symbolic, it’s purple! If that doesn’t scream Octavinelle, what will?
Now if only you could find this flower. It feels like you’ve already seen every available area in your tireless hunt and still haven’t come across the prized heliotrope. But you’d asked Professor Crewel earlier today and he’d confirmed such a flower exists within the gardens, so you refuse to leave without one.
I’m not looking hard enough, you conclude, fanning yourself. This is for Floyd. I can’t give up.
“Ugh. But why can’t Floyd appreciate flowers like Jade?” you grouse, flipping through the book as you walk, admiring other blossoms under the same letter category. “I love him, but he’ll never understand the significance. Is it even worth it to go through all of this trouble? What am I saying? Of course it’s worth it! It’s for Floyd! Who cares if he’s not interested in flowers like Jade? He can still appreciate the sentiment.”
You turn the corner and look up from the paragraphs of text. At the very end of the pathway, hunched over a metal bench and tending to what looks to be a chunk of driftwood, Jade stands in his lab coat. You stop yourself so fast that your shoes screech against the concrete path and you almost trip. Jade glances in your direction just as you leap out of sight, now hidden behind a tall trellis of thick, twisting greenery.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear…
Quietly, you shut the book and eye your various escape paths. On all sides, plants line the walkways, some growing taller than you. Surely it’s possible to leave without stirring up unwanted trouble. Before you can think to move from your current hiding spot, Jade’s silky voice permeates the air.
“Romantic Blooms: A Guide on the Language of Flowers,” he reads, peering over your shoulder at the textbook’s title.
You don’t flinch, having expected he’d come to investigate. Though knowing him, he probably suspected it was you the moment you entered his peripheral.
“Jade.”
“(Name).” He smiles, ignoring the frigid way you address him. “What a lovely coincidence running into you.”
“I was just leaving.”
“Oh, is that so? I was going to ask if you needed anything, but since you seem to be in such a hurry I won’t keep you any longer.”
It’s not worth it.
It’s not worth it.
It’s…really worth it.
“Actually… Would you, by any chance, know where I could find a heliotrope?”
“Is there a particular reason you’re in need of one?”
“It’s for Floyd.”
“For me?” he mocks, tone high and nasally, while he leans in close.
“Yes, for you.” You poke his chest, pushing him away from you. His smile widens. “Heliotropes mean your love will last forever.”
“Aw. Shrimpy wants forever love with me. Ain’t that adorable!”
“Do you…want that with me?”
“Course I do. You don’t need some silly flower to prove it, y’know. ’Sides, flowers aren’t eternal. It’s gonna wilt eventually. What kinda flower can’t last as long as the thing it symbolizes?” Floyd grasps your chin, tilts your head towards him, and captures your lips in a chaste kiss. When he pulls away, you’re still processing it. “Morays aren’t the monogamous type. Some are. Like my Mama and Pops.”
“O-Oh. Is that… Does that mean…” He kissed me. Again. Floyd kissed me. “W-What about you?”
Floyd peers at you, smirking mischievously, and within seconds he’s plucked the book from out of your hands. “Take a guess.” He slinks away before you can settle on one, laughing as he goes. “S’not a hard one!”
By the time he’s turned the corner, obscured by the foliage, it occurs to you he’s taken your book. Gasping, you hurry after him, not at all offended with his thievery. Rather, when you spot him on the other side of a row of vegetable plants and he challenges you with his typical come-and-get-me look, your heart fattens with adoration, on the verge of imploding like a grand star in a dusky outer space.
It plays out much like a fantastical dream, only this time the distance isn’t as harrowing, and you manage to catch up to him after he takes you all around the botanical garden, giggling the entire way. If you were sweating before, you’re drenched now, but it’s worth it to capture him in an embrace. The hug is short-lived, for you pull away in hopes of cooling down and catching your breath. While you do that, Floyd fumbles with something. He’s cutting a cluster of blossoms with pruning shears.
He offers the flower with his trademark theatrics. “Ta-da! One heliotrope for Shrimpy.”
Gathering yourself, you admire the flower held between his fingers, resisting the urge to cheer. “It’s very pretty. Thank you.”
“Not as pretty as Shrimpy.” Gingerly, he tucks it behind your ear. “Anyone ever tell ya your eyes get reeeal big when you’re happy?”
“Oh. Um. N-No…”
He leans down to your height, beaming sincerely. “Now ya know.”
“Yeah…” Delicately, you run your fingertips over the violet cutting, your whisper swelling with joy. “Now I know.”
Floyd watches you pet it, abnormally still. You’re so used to seeing him fidget when he’s forced to linger in place, a creature unable to restrain his energy for even a moment, that it’s almost uncanny when he stands straight as a board. A large hand, encased in a gardener’s glove, reaches for you and you don’t have the foresight to meet him halfway. Instead, he awkwardly pats your shoulder, seemingly unsure of where to place his hand after it started moving towards you.
“If we were together, I’d give you more than a flower.”
For a minute you think you hear Jade’s deeper intonation slip through. His hand slides down the length of your arm, and his fingers interlace with yours. His stare, filled with forlorn longing, pins you in place. His hands fit seamlessly in yours, as if they were intended to all along. Rather hastily, you slide the gloves off to rid him of his fabric barrier. Smooth, soft digits entwine with yours next. Floyd shuffles closer, caging you between himself and a metal workbench.
“You don’t have to! A flower’s more than enough for me.”
“No, it ain’t. You deserve so much more.”
“Then…” Your breath hitches when he slots his knee between your legs. Nimble fingers slide under your blouse, palming at your stomach. “What would you give me?”
“Everythin’. Whatever ya want. I’d never let ya be sad or lonely again.” He noses your collarbone, sighing moonily. “I’d give you an entire garden of heliotropes if it means you’ll never look at anyone else ever again.” As if realizing something, he sighs, clears his throat, and adds, “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, Shrimpy. I just want you to be happy.”
You reach to pat his head, and he seems to preen at your touch. “I… I feel the same. I…”
I love you.
Floyd’s fingers dance beneath your clothes, mapping every inch of skin as if he’s trying to commit it to memory. He’s slowly rutting against you, his breath hot in your ears. Perhaps it’s the humidity, but you feel dizzy in his embrace, lost in a lustful haze.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he confesses, roughly tugging your bra down until your breasts spill free. He cradles them in strong hands. “Always thought about it when I saw ya sittin’ pretty in class.”
You blink. It’s not a dream. He’s touching you. You blink again for good measure. It’s still not a dream.
“Do what?” A dumb question. You know what he means, but you wish to hear it right from his mouth.
“Kissin’ and touchin’. Ya have no idea how many times I wanted to pull ya into an empty classroom and just…” His teeth graze your pulse, tasting the stuttering beat beneath. “Make a mess of ya.”
“What… What was stopping you?”
“Didn’t think you’d feel the same,” he mumbles, nipping at your throat. When he speaks next, it’s in an octave lower, and he’s lost Floyd’s whimsical vocality. “So I would content myself with observing you in secret. You never noticed I was there, but I saw you. Every single day at every hour, studying tirelessly in the library or sharing a meal with your friends at the cafeteria…” He twists your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, prompting a shuddering gasp from you. “You’re captivating when you exist in oblivion.”
That…doesn’t sound like something Floyd would say.
“Floyd, wait…”
He pulls away to look at you and his pupils are blown impossibly wide, almost as if he’s high off the scent of you, the warmth of your skin under his palms as they wander lower, and the daring thrill of exhibitionism. He seems to snap out of his trance moments later when he offers you a toothy grin. You chew your lip, uncertain.
What was that all about? Looking pretty when I’m oblivious? Watching me in secret?
“All good?” His fingers curl into the waistband of your uniform pants, and for a moment you wish you were wearing a skirt so he’d have easier access.
Feebly, you nod, your every nerve alight with an insatiable yearning. “I’m okay.”
Maybe I misunderstood him. Maybe this is how Floyd flirts.
“Promise?” One hand massages your hip, enticing you to agree.
You pull him in so that your bodies can connect. He hums at the contact, whether in pleasure or approval you can’t tell. “I promise,” you whisper, abandoning logic to breathe him in like he’s the worst kind of addiction. A fatal temptation, but it’s impossible to stop when you’ve come this far.
Floyd giggles and resumes his fondling, closing his hands around your breasts. You whine your grief, mourning the loss of his lingering touch on your waist. Although a deeper part of you is relieved he didn’t stray further in his exploration. Had he done so, you wouldn’t have had the sensible conscience to stop him. You almost direct his touch downwards, but instead your hands grab at his face to drag him up and away from your neck. He fills in what’s left of the space between the both of you, capturing your lips in a searing smooch. This time, rather than flailing about foolishly, you hold him still, savoring the sloppy exchange of breath and saliva. He licks into your mouth, chasing your tongue, and though it isn’t a competition you let him overpower you.
Victory hangs in the air, but you’re not sure which of you has won.
It’s everything you could have ever coveted from Floyd: a saccharine, movie-esque moment in the middle of a flowering garden. For this singular moment, he’s all yours. Your star only has eyes for you and he’s all over you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he ruts his hips in time with yours, panting against your mouth as if you’re the only oxygen source to be found at the bottom of the sea. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, hungrily impatient, and when he kisses you it’s as if he does so with the intention that this may be the last chance he’ll ever have.
Without much forethought, you fumble with the buttons on your blouse, undoing two more so that he may slide it from your shoulders to reveal the oh-so-inviting bareness of your neck.
You catch his face in your hands, eyes narrowed with an unspoken threat. Mind where you bite.
He reads you loud and clear, for he flashes his teeth at you and places one of his hands over yours, his entire body rumbling with laughter. “Why not?”
“Because,” you hiss, shaking your head.
“Then I won’t bite.”
“But…”
“If ya don’t want it, don’t ask for it.”
“Floyd—” His lips brush against your skin and you shiver. “Please…” 
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ Rather than bite marks, open-mouthed kisses pepper your skin. “Next time.”
You intend to object, to plead that you want nothing more than to be bloodied with bites, but he’s drawing all sorts of sinful sounds from the depths of your throat and it’s impossible to voice your disappointment when pleasure’s quickly taking over. You grab his chin and smash your mouth against his instead, determined to out-kiss him—if such a thing is even possible. Floyd giggles, invigorated with the challenge you’ve initiated, and angles his head to kiss you more deeply.
It makes up for the lack of bites, you tell yourself, and the outlandish assurance soothes you. With the way he’s breathing into you as if you’re his lifeline, a buoy floating on rocky waves, he’s shamelessly unslakable. But then so are you when you nip at his tongue, taking it in your mouth until your chest is begging for reprieve, unable to compete with the lung capacity of merman. His hands are still roaming and you mirror his actions, clumsily unbuttoning his lab coat and pulling it from his person. Floyd would never dress so neatly, every button buttoned and tie tied expertly, but you ignore this detail in favor of receiving another starved kiss from him.
Your hands drift lower until they’ve settled over the strain in his pants. Momentarily, you hesitate, your heart collapsing into your stomach.
This is real. He’s actually… Because of this, Floyd is… You swallow thickly and palm it carefully. Floyd groans low in your ear. He bucks against your hand to force friction.
“You’re so cute,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your fingertip, wickedly cruel in your tentative, experimental petting. “All of that from a little—” you put on his voice next, a poor mimic— “kissin’ and touchin,’ huh?”
“S’not nice when you…tempt—ah, tease me…” He shakes his head, stumbling over Floyd’s trademark drawl. He buries his face in your shoulder, gasping when you apply just a little more pressure. “Shrimpy’s so meeean, makin’ me wait for it.”
You giggle and run your fingers through the sturgeon scales hanging from his ear. The disturbance has them clicking against one another. His earring’s in the wrong place, but for today it’s right. So right.
Your lips part in a frenetic smile. Oh, how you adore him.
“Sorry, sorry. I won’t be mean.”
Led onwards by lustful impatience, you reach between your bodies to undo the zip on his trousers. Floyd sighs again, as if your touch is the greatest relief, when you squeeze him through the fabric of his boxers. You’ve always theorized how big he might be, but now that you’re finally approximating his length you’re wondering how you’ll ever fit all of him. The delicious fantasy of a filthy struggle—of trembling around him as he eases himself inside, filling you up thick inch by thick inch—renders your temperature volcanic.
“About moray—” You inhale sharply when he rolls his hips, and the last of your restraint rots away. With your tongue tucked between your teeth, you concentrate on massaging the bulge between his legs with newly restored confidence. “Moray courtship…”
“Mm, yeah… What about it?” His voice quivers against your mouth, wet and wanton.
“What’s it like?”
“Ah. Well… Hah…” He slows his fervent humping and presses his forehead to yours to look you in the eyes. “I’d bring ya lotsa stuff. Food and shiny treasures and—haa… And I’d pretty up the cave. Protect ya from predators. Keep ya comfy and content.”
You imagine Floyd dutifully prowling the perimeter of your shared living space, all taut, lean muscle, senses on high alert, while you remain swathed in soothing shadows. The fantasy is so vivid in your mind that you almost reach out, fingers chasing the distant delusion of a Floyd who loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone. Instead, you grasp the phony. His hands are on your waist, steadying you, and you embrace him like he’s the lover you’ll never have.
“And you’d never leave me?”
“Never. Not once. Not ever.” The promise is made between kisses, each more pleasurable than the last. It sets your entire body aflame with an intoxicating exultation. Tears prick your eyes. “I’ll stay with ya forever, Shrimpy.”
“But what if someone else—”
He places a finger to your lips, silencing what’s left of your doubt. “I don’t want someone else. You’re all I’ll ever want, so there’s no need to worry about things that will never come to pass.” A smile adorns his features next and he slides his finger down your lips to trace your jawline. You sigh at his touch. It’s everything and nothing. Too much and too little. Everlasting and fleeting. “You’re always gonna be my Shrimpy, ya got that? No one else can have ya. Promise me.”
Your face aches from smiling so much, but this time you can’t help it. Those words, coupled with his actions, renew your once-dampened, self-conscious spirit. You drink him in, doing away with hesitation.
“I promise, Floyd. I’m all yours.”
There’s a spark of something sad in his eyes then, but it passes like a short sunshower, swallowed up in a sea of salacity. You fail to take note of it when you’re so busy stroking him through his boxers, imprisoned by the magnetic force of attraction that’s settled between the both of you. He hums his appreciation, sliding his hands up the expanse of your stomach to squeeze your chest. You can’t seem to keep yourself off of him for more than a minute, pulling him into you for more of everything. More friction. More kisses. More connection.
More. More. More.
The steamy press of his mouth to yours is prurient, teeth clicking against teeth and warring tongues, but it’s so addictive. You wish to remain like this forever, savoring kisses and exchanging tender touches. Everything about this version of Floyd matches the one you’ve spent countless nights picturing. You feel enshrouded in cotton when he grinds helplessly into your hand to chase a mounting climax. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to experience—a physical culmination of real, raw love.
Floyd’s pace is frenzied now, and he’s chanting how good you feel like it’s the gospel. He’s close; you can sense it, see it, hear it in the way he gasps and groans. His fingers dig into your sides, just beneath your ribs, to keep himself anchored as he rests his head on your shoulder. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly to reveal the pointed beginnings of his razored teeth, and with just a few more touches and gyrations he shudders through his orgasm.
He’s almost boneless in your arms when he resurfaces, lips pursed in a tight line. His face is flushed scarlet, a rare vibrancy you’ve never seen on the face of Jade Leech.
That’s right. It’s Jade you did all of that with. Jade. Not Floyd. Jade.
But it felt like Floyd.
“You good?” You offer him a warm smile when his eyes flutter open.
He leans into you and then slowly retracts himself. “Ah. Yes… Yes, I’m all right now. Forgive me for getting so carried away.”
You follow the direction he’s looking at to your hand, which is still pressed to his boxers and is sticky with his spend as it seeps through the fabric. Embarrassment trickles down your spine.
“O-Oh! Sorry. I… Um, let me just…” Eyes darting elsewhere, you yank your hand away, intending to wipe it on your pant leg. Your attempt at a carefree chuckle sticks in your throat when he grasps it instead. “Uh, Jade?”
He holds your gaze with startling intensity. For the few moments that pass between both of you, you assume he’s still playing Floyd, but there’s something about his mannerisms that tells you otherwise. He’s distrait, distant, dazed—whatever you choose to call it—and he’s studying you as if you’ve just hung the stars in his sky.
What’s he looking at? Is there something on my face?
“I never understood why Floyd calls you Little Shrimpy,” he whispers, curling his fingers around yours. “You’re more than a tiny, trifling shrimp. To me, you are the moon—hypnotically radiant, a pretty pearl in a pitch-black sea—capable of influencing the very ocean I reside in. And like an enchanted tide heeding the moon’s call—like a fisherman mesmerized by a siren’s lullaby—I’m drawn in by your beauty and brilliance.” He leans close, breath fanning across your lips. “I exist to revolve around you. To drown in you. Forever.”
You stare at him.
It’s all you can do. Stare and pretend you aren’t stunned by this revelation—like it didn’t just sap all of the oxygen from the air. What is he talking about? You’d expect something like this from Rook, who’s known to wax poetry as easily as he breathes. But Jade? Sure, he’s eloquent, but even he wouldn’t say something so…
What’s the right word to describe it? It’s not cheesy; you don’t think so, at least. It’s not heartwarming either. You feel like he might wheedle you into a scheme if you’re readily receptive to his flowery adulation. It’s nice to be compared to the moon, though. But then the moon is forever out of reach, unobtainable for a merman like Jade, who can only ever observe from the sea. It’s a love birthed from the yearning of a gap that can never and will never be closed.
You’re thankful it’s hot in here, otherwise your embarrassment would have been explosively obvious.
“Jade, do you like—”
“Jaaade, you there?”
Upon hearing the real Floyd, the tendrils of the fantasy you once entangled yourself in snap. And amidst the fragments, a dozen anxieties come rushing forth. Hastily, you push Jade away and shove his rumpled lab coat at him. Fear-laced adrenaline has you struggling with the buttons on your blouse. He doesn’t seem nearly as panicked as you currently are, merely hugging his coat to his chest and watching you, smitten beyond sanity.
“Hide!” you hiss, smoothing the wrinkles in your shirt and then cursing when you realize you’ve missed a button. There’s no time to fix it. “Hurry! Before he finds out—”
“Before who finds out?” Floyd whips around the corner just as Jade vanishes from sight. You miss the way he grips his magic pen in a tight fist, pupils blown with a crazed sort of excitement. You’re equal parts relieved and grateful for his swift reflexes, but you’re more grateful for Floyd’s interruption. You weren’t interested in knowing the answer to your half-spoken inquiry. “Ah! It’s Shrimpy! Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to yourself?”
“F-Floyd, hey! Hi! I… I’m just looking around for…flowers.” You smile, full set of teeth on display despite your disheveled and mildly panicked appearance.
Did he hear us? Did he see us? Please tell me he didn’t. Please. Please. Please.
Floyd’s eyes rove over your too-tense form. He leans in close, and you jerk away with a nervous chuckle. His nose wrinkles, and then a curious smile pulls at his lips. You’re certain that can’t be good.
“What… What’s up?”
“Ya smell like Jade.” He’s gazing at your ear now and it dawns on you that the heliotrope is still snugly tucked there. “Didja see him?”
“What? No!” The look he gives you next is so skeptical you almost kick yourself. “I mean, not today I haven’t…” Swallowing another uncomfortable laugh, you remove the flower from its current resting place and crush it in a tight fist. The limp petals flutter to the ground when you release them from your hold. “Maybe it’s my perfume! I… I bought a new one, so I’ve been wearing it a lot lately.”
“Mhm… Perfume,” he muses, grinning up to his ears, his thumbs hooked casually in his pockets.
You’re a bad liar, you scold yourself, ashamed.
“Anyway, why’re you looking for Jade? I can pass on a message if I happen to run into him.”
“Could ya? Thanks, Shrimpy,” he says, pulling away to give you space. “Azul’s been on my tail about him all day. Super annoyin’ with it. Says he needs Jade at the lounge cuz it’s busy or somethin’.”
You intend to say, “So why not go in his place?” but then you realize something unusual.
“Hold on. Is Jade skipping work?”
Floyd shrugs. “Dunno. Jade never skips anythin’ important. He’s got a schedule he follows, y’know? Real diligent.”
“And I’m assuming the lounge is a big part of that schedule?”
“Prolly.”
Then why was he here in the gardens? Did he lose track of time? It’s an impossible thought; you fail to trick yourself into believing it. No, Jade would never.
“Oh. O-Okay…” You fidget in place while Floyd continues to look at you. He rocks back and forth on his heels, seemingly waiting for you to speak up. A minute stretches between the both of you. “Um… Is that it?”
He gazes past you then, at the spot where you’re certain Jade’s standing. “Yep. S’all I wanted to say. If ya see Jade, let him know Azul’s lookin’ for him.” He turns around, pauses, and then looks over his shoulder at you. “Your new perfume’s lame. Ya gotta get a nicer scent.”
And then he’s disappearing into the foliage, shaded under wide, full boughs. You stand stupefied and replay his words in a loop. Out of every detail gleaned, the strangest was Floyd’s claim that you smelled like Jade. You feel foolish for dwelling on it, but it’s starting to eat through your organs with its implications and now all sorts of questions are sparking in your brain. Why would Floyd pick up on your scent? Was he being truthful, or was that intended to make you squirm with discomfort? Is it an unpleasant sort of smell? Does he mean to say you smell salty like the sea because that’s where Jade’s from? But what does Jade even smell like? With the reluctance of a cat near water, you raise your wrist to your nose and inhale deeply.
I’m not wearing any perfume…
Groaning, you bury your face in your hands next.
And I forgot to give him the heliotrope.
You spin around just as a patch of Jade becomes visible, pieces of his figure slowly gaining clarity as the effects of the illusory spell fade. Neither of you says anything, opting to decode the message on the other’s face. You think about crossing the distance to scold him in close proximity, if only to break the thickening tension, but that urge falls away as soon as it comes.
“Do you think he knows?”
“It’s possible. Mages can always sense magic, even the smallest of spells. At the very least, he was aware a third party was here.”
“So you weren’t really invisible then.”
“Physically, yes. It only works on those who neglect to notice or aren’t adept in spellcasting.” He slides his arms into the sleeves of his lab coat, gracefully unruffled. “I thought I’d spare you the chagrin if I made myself scarce. Unless you wanted Floyd to know, in which case I’ll be more than delighted to divulge our secret affair.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. And don’t call it that! It’s just convenient that you’re his twin and can do a good impression. Convenient, okay?”
“Conveniently an affair. Or should we settle for ‘dalliance’ instead? How about mutualism? Partnership? Which do you prefer?”
You rub calming circles into your temples. By the Great Seven, he’ll annoy you to death before you can even confess. You’re buzzing with irritation, but it’s not directed at Jade. Instead, you’re frustrated with your failure. You let Floyd leave. You had an entire conversation going and it fell apart because you sent him away. Because you just had to ask if that was all he needed from you. On top of that, it’s blisteringly hot in here and Floyd said you reek of Jade; and you’re not even wearing any perfume, and you probably smell and look so gross; and your nonstop sweating might be ruining your makeup and—
“(Name)?”
“What?” It’s harsh on your tongue, a demand rather than a question. He offers you a handkerchief. You stare at the pristine, frilly white blur clutched between his fingers. “I’m fine. I don’t need your sympathy. In fact, I don’t want it.”
And then the first tear traces a line down your cheek.
“Oh. Um. Hold on.” You wipe it away with your wrist, sniffling as you do so. “Fuck, I’m a mess. This is the worst. I can’t even… I can’t do anything right. I had the perfect opportunity to ask him or…talk to him—say anything I wanted, change the subject—I don’t know! And I… I blew it. I completely r-ruined it and now he thinks I smell like you, but we’re not even together like that and if he thinks I’m taken I’ll never have a chance!”
“I understand how devastating it must feel, but you shouldn’t let that discourage—”
You swat him and the handkerchief away when he takes a step closer. “Stop. Just…stop. You don’t understand. You have no idea how it feels. Don’t act like you do.”
Jade hesitates, opens his mouth, and then shuts it.
“I love him, Jade. I love him so much, but I don’t know where to start. It sucks. I feel so lost. And… And he said I smelled like you! Does he think I have a bad scent? Am I really that terrible?” You wipe at the onslaught of unstoppable tears and hiccup through a blubbery sob. “O-Or am I boring? Is that it? If I smell like you, does that mean I have a boring smell? But then it was my fault for ending the conversation. And then… And I didn’t even get to give him the flower…”
“You’re far from boring, (Name).”
“But I must be if Floyd—”
“I disagree.”
“You’re just saying that because you can. Because you’re not Floyd.”
“But I know Floyd, and Floyd only returns to those he deems fun or fulfilling. Furthermore, if he thought you smelled bad he would have said so, unfiltered and brutally honest. As one of his most devout admirers, this should be beginner’s knowledge for you.”
“I know. I know. I—” You pause, brows furrowing, and suddenly it isn’t so heart-wrenching anymore. “You’re right, actually.”
“See? There’s no need to sully your pretty visage with tears and snot. It was just one interaction. There are many more to come, surely.” He snips a new heliotrope from the bush and holds it out to you. “If not the handkerchief, will you accept this and try again?”
You stare at the cutting, shakily taking it. A wet, weak laugh forces itself from the constrictive confines of your throat. “Yes, Jade,” you mutter, scrubbing the salt from your eyes. “Yes, I’ll try again.”
He smiles, but it isn’t duplicitous. “Please don’t let me keep you any longer.”
“W-Wait, you meant now?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean tomorrow or next week.”
“Be quiet, smart-ass.”
“You say that and yet you’ve started smiling. What happened to ‘I’m the worst’ and ‘I ruined my chances’?”
Flustered, you slap your hand over your mouth to curb your growing grin. “I’m not smiling! It wasn’t funny! I… I’m still upset!” You back away on quick feet, ducking around the corner with a final, “I’m still the worst! A total failure!”
Jade laughs into his fist, savoring the fleeting sounds of your soles upon the concrete. As if coming down from a miraculous high, he allows his short-lived joy to ebb away. Sadness soon sets in when he glances at the scattered petals on the ground, and he can only hope the new heliotrope won’t meet the same wilted fate as its predecessor. He’s just about to gather them when you pop into sight once more, your chest heaving as if you just ran a grueling race. He stares at you, a single brow raised. Suddenly, feeling glum is the last thing on his mind.
“Back so soon?”
“I—” you huff, gathering both your thoughts and breath— “I forgot…to give you…a message!”
“Oh?”
“Azul needs you at the lounge.” You wipe sweat from your brow, rushing through the words. “And just so you know—skipping work doesn’t really seem like your style, but it’s not a bad change of pace for you. I kinda like rebellious, sweets-loving Jade who’s greedy for both land and sea. Can’t say Azul will agree, though.”
For once he doesn’t seem to have a clever retort at the ready. But that doesn’t matter because you’re already bounding away, light on your feet as if you’ve just won a lottery. Maybe you have and it’s the premise of a second chance that has you feeling so filled with luck. Jade shakes his head at the foolishness of it all, his close-lipped smile widening.
If anyone’s won anything today, it’s him. But despite this, it feels far more empty than he imagined it would.
You’re humming as you skip along, tracing the path you’re certain Floyd traveled. With the heliotrope clutched in your hand, you dry what’s left of the tears in your puffy eyes and hurry along. You won’t mess up this time. You’re going to give him the flower and then!
Your gait slows to an abrupt halt. And then… And then what? You’ll have to say something else. You can’t just wordlessly bestow a flower to the love of your life and think that’s enough. Great Seven, you’re not even prepared!
For a small, vulnerable second you consider turning back and returning to Jade to get his opinion on this predicament. He knows Floyd best; he’d have plenty of advice. But you don’t want to face him. Not after everything that happened. Reminders of your intimacy with him creep in like an intrusive thought, overwhelming with its lewd imagery. You can’t believe you allowed it to go that far—to stray into a territory you’ve never navigated before. Kissing is one thing. Working Jade towards his orgasm is another.
There’s a bingo card for this, surely. An invisible one you’re steadily marking off as you go: Kissing with Jade? Check. Feeling certain assets below the belt? Check. Being compared to a celestial body, which is arguably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever told you in all of the years you’ve lived your life? That’s oddly specific, but it’s on the card. Check.
It’s a bingo card for a mutually beneficial partnership. Not the kind for a pair of lovers. Definitely not.
You’d mourn your inability to draw significant boundaries if it weren’t for the fraction of yourself that hungers for the attention, drinking it in like it’s a frosty glass of water on a humid night. It’s wrong to fool yourself over and over—inane, even. Why would you subject yourself to this torture if you know what waits for you at the end of this: heartbreak at the hands of delusion? You shouldn’t use Jade like this either. That’s also wrong, but he’s so accessible. So willing to indulge you. It’s a fair trade. A fair game. No one gets hurt. No one wins and no one loses.
But then fairness is never promised in a trade with Jade—with anyone from Octavinelle, really. You fall into the especially desperate souls category and so your situation is very different from those who look for easy academic cheats or social hacks.
Shaking your head, you free yourself of these thoughts, pushing each one aside as if wading through murky water, and trudge onwards. There’s no point in dwelling on what’s already happened.
It’s not even real intimacy, you remind yourself, hardening your heart. It’s just physical. We both agreed to help each other. He’ll role-play as Floyd and we’ll go from there. It’s Jade who’s being weird with his silver tongue and stupid poetry.
“The moon, huh…” you mutter, twirling the heliotrope between your fingers. “That’s a first…”
Nice try, Jade. A few hollow compliments aren’t going to convince me to be gentler when I rate your mushroom dishes.
Your feet take you across the bridge, leaving the botanical garden and the alchemy workshop far behind, to the cobbles that extend past the Hall of Mirrors and towards a stone staircase. You take each step one at a time until you’re standing in front of the Mystery Shop. Surprisingly enough—or maybe it’s not because you were hoping for this—Floyd’s there, leaning against a tree trunk and scrolling on his phone. Your arrival seems to pull him from whatever was occupying him on his screen, for he glances up at you.
You shake off every nerve that tightens at the premise of interacting with him. Pretend he’s Jade. I talk to Jade just fine, so maybe if I can just—
Floyd kicks off from the tree, falling into a lazy step that looks more like a slither as he crosses the distance to get to you. Or maybe you’re paying too much attention to his legs. Either way, he’s standing in front of you now, his phone pocketed and arm outstretched. You follow the length of it, taking notice of the gift bag that hangs from his grasp like bait on a fishing lure.
He’s not shifty like Jade, you think. Okay, maybe he’s a little shifty. But he means well! Most of the time…
“Is… Is this for me?”
Floyd nods and shakes it. “Gonna open it?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Shrimpy’s askin’ lotsa questions.”
“Because Floyd is acting suspicious. What have I done that would make you buy something for me?”
“What if I wanna treat Shrimpy? S’nothing wrong with a little somethin’ every now and then, yeah? I think you’ll like it.”
“That doesn’t sound very comforting…”
“C’mon. Just open it.” He presses it into your hand. “Trust me.”
You roll your eyes, a smile playing at your lips. Pushy just like his brother.
“I trust you.” Cautiously, you stick your hand inside and withdraw a pink box patterned with red swirls. In looping script, the words Cherry Crush are printed. You almost drop the heliotrope in your excitement, and you tear the box open to get to the bottle that rests within. “No way!” You look at Floyd. He confirms your disbelief with a grin. “For me? Seriously? Really?”
“Who else? Course it’s for you.” He tilts his head, watching you a little too closely. “You like it?”
“Wait, I haven’t even put it on yet!” The cap comes off and you spritz some on your wrist. Waving it around so it’ll dry faster, you feel yourself break out into a dumb smile. “Yes, I do like it. A lot. Thank you.”
“No prob. I’m glad,” he says, pronouncing it in a hum. “You like smellin’ sweet, so I got ya somethin’ sweet.”
You catch a sugary whiff and sigh, wholly satisfied. It’s perfect, everything you could’ve ever wanted, and you hope it washes away whatever scent Floyd had previously detected on you. If love smells like Cherry Crush perfume, you never want to fall out of it.
“Oh, speaking of that, I actually got you something, too.”
“Gonna take a guess and say it’s that flower you’ve got.”
“Yeah! I picked one from the botanical garden. It’s a heliotrope.”
Floyd takes it from you, turns it over in his hand, and whistles. “Pretty. Why’s it for me? It looked nicer in your hair.”
Your skin prickles as the memories spring forth.
“Oh. Uh, that… I think it would look much prettier in a vase or something…”
“Mm, nah.”
The once freely flowing conversation halts. You kick yourself for putting yourself in a corner. Why is it so challenging to keep a chat going? With Jade, you could go for hours, bickering and bantering about the smallest details. With Floyd, it feels like you have to carve your insides out just to keep him engaged. But if that’s what it takes, you’ll do it. Anything for Floyd.
“I think it might look pretty in your hair.”
“You think so?”
“Y-Yeah! I mean, purple is such a beautiful color and it matches Octavinelle’s aesthetic. You could even wear it as a pin. Oh, but you’d have to make it into one first. Or you could tuck the stem into the breast pocket on your uniform! That might work best.”
Floyd chuckles. “Shrimpy’s really into this, huh?”
“Oh. Ah. Um… It’s only a suggestion.”
“You like flowers then?”
Mutely, you nod. You can taste your heartbeat in your mouth—frantic and metallic. Or maybe you’ve bitten the inside of your cheek in the midst of your hasty ramblings and it’s the river of blood filling your mouth that you mistake for a heartbeat. Either way, you want nothing more than to curl up in the soil and disappear forever.
“You should see ’em in the Coral Sea. It’s real nice down there. Lotsa flowers and plants and stuff.”
“Oh, I’ve actually seen some of them before! When we went to the Coral Sea to get that photograph from that museum, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He giggles at the recollection. “Good times.”
“You gave us a proper fright. You and Jade. Slippery eels…”
“Had fun doin’ it, too.”
You snort when he flashes his teeth at you, not apologetic in the slightest. “I’m sure you did.”
Again, the conversation glides to a halt. Floyd seems content to stand and stare, and it pains you that you must, once again, direct him towards something interesting.
“Um, Floyd, I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure thing. Shoot.”
“Well… Um, I don’t know if you like baking or anything—or maybe you’ve never tried it—but I was thinking… Actually, since you’re here, I thought that we might be able to… No, sorry. I meant, since we ran into each other, wouldn’t it be fun if—oh, wait! About my interview! Yeah, that. Is… Is it possible I could get another interview?”
If there was a competition to see how many times you could bumble in front of Floyd, you’d take first place and you’d still feel like a loser.
“Mm, I dunno. You’ll have to talk to Azul about it.”
“Then could I talk to him now?”
Floyd nods and steps ahead. He doesn’t look back to check if you’re following, and while you drag yourself behind him poisonous thoughts dig into your skull, threatening to split it open and infect the squishy brain matter beneath.
Why can’t I just ask him what I really want? I said all of those embarrassing things to Jade without any problems. So why can’t I say it to Floyd?
“Shrimpy’s so set on workin’ at the lounge. Why’s that?”
“I need to fill my resume,” you lie.
Floyd nods. You hurry to match his stride, lest he leave you and your crumbling heart behind. “I getcha.”
“Do you know why Azul won’t hire me?”
“Cuz ya don’t have much experience workin’.”
“Hey! I have lots of experience! Azul’s missing out on a very good worker, I’ll have you know.”
“Sure he is.”
“What would you do—if you were the boss, I mean?”
“Hire ya. Then it’ll get a lot more fun in the lounge.”
You finally fall into step beside him, your eyes wide with wonder. “Really? You think I’d be a fun coworker?”
“Yeah, totally.”
Your grip on the bag tightens, courage filling you at once. He thinks I’m fun…
For all of his boasting about being accessible and willing to listen to everyone’s troubles, Azul is unimpressed when Floyd drops you off at his VIP room. Your beloved eel winks just as you step inside, offering you a sing-song, “Good luck,” before slinking off. You were confident for all of ten seconds, but then the door closes and you’re left with Azul, who looks very unwilling to hear you out; and suddenly your not-so-rehearsed speech doesn’t seem so foolproof anymore.
He doesn’t flinch when you rush him and slam your hands upon his desk. In fact, you don’t think he even looks up to acknowledge your boisterous presence, too engrossed in a stack of documents to even bother.
“Azul, you have to hire me! Please give me one chance. I won’t let you down. I’ll do everything you ask!”
“This again?”
“I’m serious. I want to work here.”
“Jade tells me otherwise.”
“What? That I’m not serious?”
“I’d hazard an assumption that you’re more serious about Floyd than you are about contributing to the lounge.”
You gasp, offended, to which Azul rolls his eyes, foregoing his usual lofty decorum. “That is…very true, yes. But I’ll work hard, and I’ll show up on time. I’ll even sign a contract! Please, Azul, I’ll do anything. I need this job.”
He hums, unconvinced. “You do realize it’s not guaranteed you’ll become any closer to Floyd than you already are.”
“I know.” You gaze at the perfume box resting within the bag. There’s hope. “But… But I’m not going to give up. I’ll keep pestering you about interviews until the end of your days.”
Sensing an in, Azul straightens the documents, sets them on his desk, and gazes at you. The atmosphere shifts in an instant with his newly stoked interest, or perhaps he’s feigned apathy all along just to see how far you’ll lower yourself.
“As it happens, there is an open position, if you’d be interested in hearing more.”
“Go on…”
“If hired, you’d join my staff as a waitress. We could use the extra help when the foot traffic peaks, and since you appear genuinely motivated—as wildly misplaced as this motivation may be—I could consider giving you the job.”
“Wait, seriously? You’d hire me?”
“Only if you work as you’ve so dutifully claimed you will.”
“I will! I’m not lying about that.”
“If you were so desperate, you could have looked to Sam for a job. The Mystery Shop is always hiring.”
“But it doesn’t have Floyd.”
“Of course. One-track as ever… Well, if you’re truly so determined, let me ask you something.”
Danger thickens in the air when you spy his sticky smile, but if Azul is all who stands between you and Floyd you’ll take the risk.
“I’m only listening if you’re going to be honest. No strings.”
“Why, that smarts, (Name)! And I thought we were thick as thieves!”
“Not as thick as your delusion, no.”
“How rude. Is that any way to speak to your future employer and boss?”
“We’re getting distracted. What did you want to ask me?”
Azul tuts. “Ever the impatient one. If you must know, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to make a deal.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever it takes.”
He’s thrown somewhat off course at your readiness. But before you can take his momentary hesitation and twist the conversation in your favor, he recovers with an admirable level of poise. With an airy chuckle, he plucks his magic pen from his breast pocket and swishes it in an elegant motion. A contract scroll, its contents written in perfect cursive, materializes within seconds. You stare at it, mesmerized by the aureate shimmer.
“The terms are fairly simple. You’ll work your hours as scheduled. You’re permitted to turn to Floyd for guidance so long as you remain focused on the task at hand. I’ll even align your schedule with his if it pleases, but I can’t make any promises that he’ll show up for his appointed shifts. He’s mercurial, you see, but you’re likely aware of this.”
You nod, soaking in the information like a rapacious sponge. “And? What’s the catch?”
“The catch,” he says, eyeing you with predatory intent, “is that you’ll have every opportunity to prove to me that your work ethic is as authentic as you say it is. Fail thrice and you’ll lose your job and, consequently, your chance at currying favor with Floyd.”
“That’s all? Sounds oddly safe coming from you.”
“Oh, did you think I was finished?” He chuckles and withdraws a vial from his desk drawer. The colorless liquid inside the glass sloshes when he sets it down.
“What’s that?”
“A potion.”
“I know that. I mean, what’s it supposed to be a potion for? Is it a love potion?” You gasp and hurry to snatch it from the desk. Azul beats you to it, levitating it out of your reach with a swish of his magic pen. “Seriously, what is it? I’ll drink it if that’s what you want, but I need to know what I’m working with.”
“It’s meant for you, yes. I’ll need you to add part of yourself to the mixture and let it sit for, say, a few minutes. Three should suffice. Then you’ll be free to drink it.”
“What should I add?”
“Let me phrase it this way—what are you most comfortable drinking? Blood? Saliva? Something else?”
Your face falls and he laughs. “That doesn’t sound appetizing whatsoever.”
“Most potions never are, but this one is special.”
“Special how?”
“A lady of many questions, aren’t you?”
“Forgive me for being cautious, but you’re a man of many tricks and lies. Can you blame me for being suspicious?”
“If that’s the case, shall I call Floyd in here and have him give you the overview? Would that ease your worries?”
“Absolu—wait, no. No, not at all. I’m focused on working!” You open your palm to receive the fishbone pen he offers, its tip already submerged in pitch-black ink. “Work is in my brain. Not Floyd. I promise.”
“We’ll see.” Azul places the vial on the desk once more, its foggy opacity an unsolved mystery. “To review: You’ll work for me, show me that you’re not just here to follow a fluffy daydream—” his nose scrunches at that phrasing, as if it leaves a foul taste on his tongue— “and in return I shall so graciously provide you with plentiful opportunities to be near Floyd. You’ll also be expected to drink that potion at some point and retrieve a few things while under its effects. More on that at a later date.”
That sounds so suspicious! Is he even hearing himself?
“And if I mess up three times, that’s it? I’m fired?”
“Three strikes and you’re out, as they say.” He smiles and gestures to the contract lying before you, an empty line awaiting a hasty signature. “Do we have a deal?”
You stare between the perfume and the scroll. Exhaling slowly, you steel yourself and scrawl your name in messy script. The dim lighting contorts his enthused features into something devilish. Before you can even think to peruse the contract for its fine print—a trademark of any Azul Ashengrotto contract—the parchment rolls itself up and vanishes in a fantastical poof.
“A pleasure doing business, (Name). Should you find yourself in need yet again, you’re always welcome to consult me any time.”
You almost thank him, but instead you catch yourself and say, “You made me wait on purpose, dragging your decision out so I’d come to you when I was most desperate. You were probably going to hire me all along, weren’t you?”
“Let’s say my considerations have been successfully swayed.”
You roll your eyes, a fiery quip bubbling on your tongue, but a knock at the door draws your attention away from Azul.
“I’ll cook you if you’re playing any tricks,” you threaten before swiping the vial and stuffing it in the bag alongside the perfume. And then you pivot on your heel. “Turn you into something healthy. Like an octopus salad.”
“Oh, anything but that. I’m so terrified.” (He’s not.)
On your way out, you pass Jade. He looks partially surprised to see you, his widened, mismatched hues following you for a long, starstruck moment until Azul squawks at him with an impatient huff. You catch his chiding words just as the door eases shut: “Where have you been all day? I would expect this behavior from Floyd, but never from you.”
Your feet carry you into the busy lounge. Inhaling scents of food and drink, you hold your breath and let your achievement sink in.
I got the job.
It fizzles out of you in a satisfied whistle.
I got the job.
And then you’re jumping up in celebration, punching the air with clenched fists, uncaring that students are turning to scrutinize. “Hell yeah! I got the job! Eat your doubtful, hater words, Jade Leech!”
You whirl towards the VIP room, all smiles and giggles, intending to barge in there and rub your success in his face. But then you take a bewildered pause.
Why do I want to tell him so badly?
Is it worth sharing with Jade? Would he even truly care? Something tells you he would—a tiny, nagging something that’s doing everything it can to convince you of a fact you’ve yet to prove. You think back to the night you spent in the Mostro Lounge kitchen, discussing the differences between land and sea while waiting for the brownies in the oven, and wonder if he was telling the truth when he said he’d choose both options. Maybe he only cares about the amusement and the entertainment and not the sentimentality of following a love across land and sea. He’s sly, a natural sycophant, and so that seems probable and much easier to believe.
Still…
“Ah, forget it!” you hiss, choosing to make your retreat now before you can talk yourself into divulging the good news. He’ll find out soon enough. He doesn’t need to hear it from you, but it would be immensely pleasing to be the one to deliver it.
Floyd is waiting for you in the tunnel that connects the lounge to Octavinelle. Backdropped by swirling blues and marine life, looking like a painter’s finest pièce de résistance, he slinks over to meet you halfway.
“What’s the status? Didja get it?”
You stare at him, overwhelmed with love for his unruly charms, and nod ecstatically. Thoughts of Jade and revenge evaporate altogether, irrelevant now that you’re with your star.
“Hey, congrats! I knew you’d get it.” He leans over to wrap you in a harmless chokehold. “This means we’re gonna be workin’ together from now on. Make sure to pull your weight or else I might hafta squeeze ya…”
“Oh! Of course I’ll pull my weight! That and more.” Your fingers curl around his bicep and you lift your head to peer up at him, studying the droopy eyes, the messy hair, the sturgeon scale earring, and the curiosity curved on his lips. He’s perfect. You wish he was yours. “Floyd, can I tell you something?”
He perks considerably. “What’s up?”
You’re inches from kissing him, hoping to confess your love in the most bodily of ways. Rather than acting impulsively you seize his fedora and, shimmying out of his arms, fit it on your head.
Before bitterness can seep into your smile, you strike a dramatic pose and ask, “It suits me, doesn’t it?”
Floyd’s eyes sweep over your form, starting at the hat and working down to your shoes. He grins. “It’s a good fit, yeah. Makes you look official.”
“Officially Octavinelle!”
Floyd’s brows knit together in concentration. He skips over to you and bends down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Now you’re officially Octavinelle. Got the seal of approval and everything.”
You gawp at him, hot all over, and bring your hand to your cheek. Though it was a quick kiss, the feeling lingers and sinks into your skin like a brand. Floyd pulls away, his hat in his hands.
“Cute,” he whispers, stoking the flames even further. “You look just like a li’l shrimp when you’re surprised. You get all small and hunched.”
“I do not.” You swat at him, but you aren’t annoyed with his observation. “Cheeky eel.”
He dodges your arm. “Aw, c’mon. Shrimpy knows she likes me.”
I do, you think. I really, really do.
“You’re delusional,” you say instead, stalking ahead. If you stay here any longer, your heart might just burst.
Floyd doesn’t follow, but his laughter floats down the tunnel hall, cloying like Cherry Crush perfume.
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Jade is radiating an unusual energy when you step into the lounge kitchen. Restless is a good way to describe it, which can only mean one thing: Something’s up.
He’s wringing a rag in his hands, features alight with just barely suppressed ebullience. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, yes?”
Yeah, something’s definitely up.
“You told me not to in your text. Why? Was I supposed to?” Skeptical, you sniff at the air and catch all kinds of savory scents. “Smells yummy!”
He nods, smiling wider than he usually does. You peer at the many pots and pans lining the stovetop, and he steps aside to obscure your view.
“Please close your eyes. I’ll guide you to the table.”
It’s then that you realize “the table” is not the island you ate at previously but an actual table set with a frilly tablecloth, utensils for two, and a vase of heliotropes. You gape at the display, wondering what in the world is happening.
“I don’t trust that. You’re gonna do something weird the minute I shut my eyes.”
“I would never. Not this time, at least.”
“You’re unbelievable. What’s all of this for anyway?”
“For you, of course.”
“I’m not following. Wait… Wait, hold on. Is this a dinner date?”
“Would…you like it to be?”
It clicks then, the decorations and the classy ambience.
“Oh, I get it! You’ll play Floyd and it’ll be like I’m on a date with him. That’s actually genius! I haven’t even thought about date ideas yet, but with this I’ll be able to better prepare myself for when we—”
“You start your first shift tomorrow,” he interrupts, uncharacteristically crass. Although he smiles, his expression is tightened with turmoil. “I believe you’re due for a celebration.”
His startling abruptness aside, you smirk and rest your hands on your hips. “That’s right! I got the job and all it took was patience, persistence, and positivity.”
“Surely you mean to say impatience, annoying the ink out of Azul, and some self-deprecation, right?”
“S-Shut up. We’re not going to talk about it.”
Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Well, allow me to extend my sincerest congratulations. I look forward to seeing how you’ll fare tomorrow.”
“Do you work as well?”
“Azul tasked Floyd and me with training you. He doesn’t trust you to be alone with Floyd for more than three minutes.”
“I wouldn’t trust myself either. I mean, have you seen how he rolls his sleeves up when he’s in waiter mode? And when he’s balancing so many drinks without breaking a sweat… Ah, he’s the best!” Your sigh sticks in your throat when you register the rest of his words. “So it’s not just Floyd training me?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“So you’re just going to be a third wheel.”
“Not in the slightest. I’ll be your supervisor.”
You pull an ugly face at that. Being under Jade’s supervision sounds like a punishment pulled right from the recesses of hell, but it’s not like you have any sort of power to debate the decision. After all, in the eyes of every other employee, you’re just a new hire sitting at the bottom of the ladder. Or, if you want to be more accurate, at the bottom of the sea.
“That’s even worse. Ugh. You’re totally the villain in my love story!”
“Have I not been aiding you this entire time? Surely that warrants a title far kinder than that.”
“Okay, fine. You are…my sidekick—yeah, sidekick—and with your help I’ll get my happy ending with Floyd. Right! Speaking of, he bought me perfume and then he kissed me the other day! Kissed me, Jade! He said it was a seal of some sort. I’m ‘officially Octavinelle.’ Anyway, it’s definitely good progress!”
“Did he now?”
“Here, smell! I put some on before I came here.” You raise your wrist to his nose and he obeys, leaning down to sniff at it. “Isn’t it nice? He said it suits me because I smell sweet all the time.”
“He isn’t wrong. You wear the most delightful scents. Now, that aside, if Her Highness would allow her ever-so-faithful sidekick to serve dinner…”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m going.” You step towards the table and lower into the seat he pulls out for you. “So what’s on the menu, Chef?”
“I’ve prepared a three-course meal. You do know what that is, yes?”
“I’m not a fool.”
“Sometimes your actions tell me otherwise.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” You fold your arms over your chest and scoff. “Asshole eel.”
“Contradictory.” He tuts.
The two of you stare at each other. You laugh first, the sound coming out as a snort, and Jade soon follows your lead. It’s not a particularly amusing exchange, and yet neither of you can cease chuckling.
Jade manages to settle himself before you do, but there are still traces of mirth evident on his face. It crinkles his eyes when he says, “Shall we put this conversation on hold for now? I’m not sure how partial you are to cold dinners.”
You grin. “I’m ready to feast.”
At your request, he serves the appetizer and entrée together. You’re too hungry to haggle him for dessert, and so you simply sit back and watch as he sets various dishes on the circular table. A large garden salad with tongs and a dozen different dressings in small bottles. A loaf of fresh, crispy sourdough bread and a tiny plate of margarine. Two bowls of a soup you can’t name, but one smell has your stomach growling like a starved beast.
Jade senses your blatant staring and looks at you with raised brows.
“Is something the matter?”
“Just admiring the food.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not you.” You struggle to contain your giggle. “Okay, maybe you.”
“Because I look like Floyd from this angle?”
“Mm, no. You look like Jade.” You bat your lashes at him. “And Jade looks very handsome when he’s doing something he likes.”
Jade stands there, nonplussed, his face reddening. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him fluster outright.
By the time you’ve started snickering, he’s already recovered. “You never fail to surprise. Might I ask why you’re suddenly so kind to me? It’s unlike you to think of anyone else outside of Floyd.”
“Consider it my very late revenge. For that time you compared me to the moon, remember?”
“And you claim I’m the vindictive one.”
“You’re not the only one who gets to catch others off guard like that.”
He hums, folding the rag away after setting the final dish down. It’s so wrinkled from his previous twisting and turning of it. “I suppose that makes us even.”
“Hell yeah it does.” You motion for him to sit and he does, stretching his napkin out and placing it on his lap. “Did you really make all of this from scratch?”
“Indeed. That is a wild mushroom and farro soup. It’s a recipe I recently learned. Do tell me how it tastes.”
“No fair. It’s hard to be mean when you’ve done all of this for me. And from complete scratch, too.” Pouting, you stir your spoon through the soup. It’s packed full of sliced mushrooms, carrots, celery, and onions. In short, it smells divine. You’re certain it’ll taste so when you bring a spoonful to your lips, blow gently, and indulge. After three more scrumptious spoonfuls, you conclude with an obnoxious assessment: “The broth is exquisitely…exquisite. And the vegetables taste fresh and…super good. Yeah, it’s really good! One-hundred out of ten! Kinda heavy for a soup, though, but that makes sense if you’re using it as the main course.”
Jade’s smile reaches his eyes. “Thank you for saying so.”
As if those are the magic words, he samples the dish for himself, wasting no time in eating more. You peer through the heliotropes while you reach for the bread and butter, watching him savor his meal. It’s almost…cute.
Almost.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Octopus carpaccio.”
“How come you’ve never made any for me?”
“I wasn’t aware that the nature of our deal has strayed into domesticity. Shall we get fitted for wedding attire next? Are you fond of rings? How about pearls?”
“Shut up. You know that’s not it.” You spread margarine on your slice before dunking it in the soup. “I just wanted to ask.”
“In case you were wondering, Floyd favors takoyaki.”
“I know.”
His spoon stops at his mouth. Seconds after, he exhales through his nose, smiling behind his hand. “I would expect nothing less of his greatest fan.”
“I’d get perfect marks if Professor Crewel taught Floyd 101. But octopus carpaccio sounds delicious. Kinda awkward to think about it when Azul’s an octo-mer, though. Oh, he actually gave me something—a potion I’m meant to take as part of our contract. Do you know anything about that?”
“A potion? I’m afraid I only know as much as you do.”
“Bummer.” You munch on your bread, contemplating. “It’s not a love potion. That much he confirmed, but he said I have to add part of myself to the mixture, let it sit for a little bit, and then drink it.”
“How curious.”
“You’d tell me if you knew, wouldn’t you?”
“For the right price.”
“Ew, no. Forget it. You’ll just scam me.”
Jade chuckles and fixes himself a plate of salad. He drizzles a tangy vinaigrette over it next, pushing the greens around with his fork so the flavor soaks into every crisp vegetable.
“But whatever it is, I hope it’s safe. I’m sorta in the dark right now. That instruction about adding a part of myself isn’t a helpful clue.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in due time. I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“You never did tell me. How did your second attempt go?”
“My second attempt? Oh, the heliotrope! He accepted it. Told me it was pretty and that it looked even prettier in my hair. That was when he gave me the perfume. I’m just not sure why. I mean, I guess there’s probably not a real reason. He’s Floyd. He does whatever he wants when he feels like it. Still, I can’t stop myself from wondering…” You gasp when it hits you. “Do you think he gave me perfume because I smelled bad that day?”
Jade shakes his head, unfazed by your panicked conclusion-jumping, and continues to eat. “I can theorize,” he finally says, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
“Okay, so do it. Please tell me it wasn’t because of what I think it is.”
“Moray eels have a very robust sense of smell. We can tell many things apart purely by smell alone in the sea. We commit recurring scents to memory, such as that of food or family. Smell helps us return to those we cherish, so it acts as a helpful beacon.”
“I…don’t really get it. Are you saying you use smell to guide you? But you’re on land. Visibility must be easier here than down there.”
“To merfolk, one’s smell can evoke a variety of feelings. When you smell something delicious, does it not make you happy? This is much the same for us, even more so when it comes to other mers. Family smells like home and thus we feel safe and comfortable when wrapped in such a distinct scent. The smell of someone you care for will fill you with affection and tranquility. If that same someone is distressed, we can often smell it. Essentially, smell is special to us in a way that differs from humans’ understanding of it. No matter how far we may stray, we can always follow familiar scents to reach our destination. Our home. Our heart.” His hand splays across his chest to illustrate that last point.
“Wow. That’s…really romantic,” you mutter, chewing slowly. “So smell is like a type of unspoken communication?”
Accompanied by the gentle jazz notes from the radio, Jade’s voice is musical. “More or less. We don’t have to speak all the time to know what the other is saying.”
“Merfolk are fascinating…”
“I could say the same about humans.”
“Yeah, but we’re not that fascinating. Not like that.” You study your warped reflection in the soup. “So he gave me perfume to locate me?”
“He gave you perfume to cover my scent.”
Your head snaps up to look at him. Even though he appears unbothered by this possibility, his lips are pursed in a thin line. You think he doesn’t like this admittance.
“Oh.”
“We’re rather territorial, you see. Relationships in the sea are unlike those up here.”
“Floyd—ah, no, that was you. Uh, you mentioned that once—something about morays not following monogamy. But I’m not dating Floyd. I want to, but even I’m not that delusional. So why would he do something like that? I really doubt it’s a jealousy thing. He doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“Perhaps he just wanted to play. See if I might take notice.”
“So he did it to test you?”
“Amusing, is it not?”
“I…guess?”
I really don’t understand your sense of humor.
Jade reaches for another slice of sourdough just as you do, the both of you seeming to need something to occupy yourselves. Your hand covers his, and for a taut minute you observe him with undivided attention. He twists his hand around to hold yours and something tells you to pull away—to run from this moment and never look back—but you remain, allowing the contact.
“Regardless of his reasons, your smell will always be identifiable to us no matter how much perfume you wear.” He squeezes your hand once and then releases you. “Shrimpy’s left her imprint on me and I ain’t gonna lose that so easily. Not ever. Not even in the middle of a feeding frenzy.”
You open and close your mouth like a beached fish, embarrassment crawling up your spine. You shove a slice of bread at him. “You forgot your bread, idiot.”
He laughs. “How kind of you to remind me.”
You’re the worst, Jade Leech.
You spend the rest of dinner with heavy thoughts, your heart caught in a warring debate. If Jade’s theories hold any water, you might just have a chance with Floyd. Maybe he really does feel the same and smelling Jade on you triggered some sort of moray eel instinct. It’s all you can consider even when you attempt to distract yourself with eating.
Meanwhile, Jade regales you with exciting foraging tales and you try to feign attention, too occupied with dissecting his body language as if it’ll open a new avenue for clues. He’s so unlike Floyd—so different with his hobbies and interests and demeanor. But he masquerades as Floyd so seamlessly, reflecting that same level of capriciousness you’ve come to admire. It’s possible Jade just said something to satisfy your endless questioning. Maybe it had nothing to do with either of your scents after all. Maybe Jade’s just a liar, which isn’t news.
But to say that it was because he wanted to wash Jade’s scent off of me… That’s so embarrassing. So then he knew what we got up to in the botanical garden and he didn’t say a word about it. Does that mean he thinks we’re a thing? No, maybe not. Otherwise why else would he have been so adamant on giving me perfume? But then Jade could be lying, spinning some silly story just to trick me. Ugh, why can’t he ever be serious? My love life’s at stake here.
By the time he’s brought out dessert, a warm blackberry cobbler with scoops of vanilla ice cream situated on top, you abandon all of your conflicting thoughts and focus on enjoying your slice. As expected, it tastes like heaven and you lose yourself in the flavors, quickly forgetting about your burdensome romantic complications.
“Thanks for this, by the way.”
“There’s no need for that. It’s part of our arrangement, is it not?”
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m half-assing my part. You put in all of this work to be Floyd and you’re cooking amazing meals, and then all I’m doing is giving you useless critique.”
“It’s useless, yes.” He smiles around a bite of cobbler. “It isn’t very helpful either, but it is entertaining.”
“Way to soften the blow.” Suppressing a groan, you add, “And you’re also teaching me about moray courtship. I’m not contributing at all.”
“If you’re so desperate to do so, why not share some anecdotes about being human?”
“I doubt you’ll get anything out of it.”
“You never know.”
“Sure. All right. Um…” You stir melting ice cream with your spoon. “Dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“Floyd likes to dance, so I just sorta thought of it.” You chuckle sheepishly. “Uh, did you guys ever dance in the Coral Sea? Is that even possible?”
He nods, his lips quirking up slowly behind the convex of his spoon. “It is very possible.”
“Right. Of course it’d be. Sorry, stupid question.”
“Not at all.” He tilts his head, licking the metal. “Have you ever danced before? Ah, allow me to amend my phrasing. Can you dance, or is that not part of your skill set?”
“I can! I’ll have you know I dance best when I’m trying to impress. And when I’m alone! I’m practically a professional.”
“You’re so practically, professionally delusional. How simple a life you must lead.”
“Not true! Also, rude!” Scoffing, you scoot away from the table, the chair legs squeaking in protest. With a huff, you hold your hand out. “I’ll prove it.”
Jade’s lips split apart in a wild grin, his face tinged pink under the dim amber glow of the kitchen lights. “Oh? And have you prepared yourself for the humiliation that will soon follow when you prove inadequate?”
“I hope there’s enough appetite left in that bottomless stomach of yours because you’ll be eating those words soon enough.” You smirk, cocking your head. “And don’t look so excited. This is a competition, not courtship.”
“And yet they become one and the same under the sea…” You miss his whispered musing, so instead he rises from his seat and bows before you. “Do try to avoid stepping on my feet.”
“Hah! You wish I was that bad!”
“I truly do.”
You brush past him, swaying your hips. The challenging lilt in your voice is a siren’s song, tickling his ears with tantalizing tones. “Only one way to find out, no?”
He stands there, watching the kitchen doors swing shut.
You don’t have to wait long, for he steps through seconds after to join you in the lounge. It’s strange to admire the interior after hours, so empty and devoid of the usual bustling energy it’s known for, but it’s not particularly unsettling. It’s a serene silence, broken only by Jade’s clicking steps as he covers the distance to reach you. Backdropped by the colorful aquarium, bathed in pretty purples and beautiful blues, you really are what the moon is to merfolk: utterly, indescribably breathtaking. Every part of you, from your infectious smile to the way you stand with such confidence, is so magnetizing it leaves him mesmerized.
With a flick of his magic pen, the lights in the lounge dim, giving way to stretching shadows and aquatic phantasms, and the speakers crackle to life. The sophisticated notes of a whimsical waltz come tumbling out. Jade smiles at you, his eyes bright and warm.
“May I trouble you to close your eyes?”
You can feel your own smile carving at your cheeks and so you obey, your lashes fluttering. “I’m trusting you just this once.”
“I shan't let you down,” comes his suave promise.
There’s a mystical tinkle and chime, a bright flash of light that tries to sear your eyelids, and then you’re wrapped up in a soothing warmth. Silk rustles and flutters, twining itself around your body like a boa. The accessories come next, draping across you like an ocean lapping at the shore.
At Jade’s gentle command, you open your eyes. He’s conjured a mirror, which allows you to see yourself dressed in an azure gown, its train swishing with every twirl you take. The ruffles and ribbons, in white and variations of lighter to darker blues, bounce when you, overcome with childish glee, shimmy. They settle in waves, refined in a way that speaks of marble and alabaster. Even the dress’s straps, made of pearl strands and cut out at the shoulders, fascinate you. It’s masterfully crafted, all the way to the snug, form-fitting bodice adorned with more pearls and a pretty bow with a rose. Like a cherry on top, the matching choker is secured around your neck.
Lifting the gown to reveal a pair of shiny black heels, you peer at the frilly white stockings, your mouth dropping open in awe. The mirror is magicked away, and now nothing stands between you and Jade.
“It’s so… It’s amazing,” you mutter, running your fingers over the shimmering fabric.
“A transient illusion befitting my moon princess. Ah, but your attire suggests otherwise… Perhaps you’re more of a jellyfish princess.”
You gasp, flattered beyond words. “Can I be both?”
“Greedy. Greedy.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rolling your eyes, you offer your outstretched hand. The corners of your lips twitch upwards. “Well, will you have this dance, loyal sidekick of mine?”
With his hand resting over his heart, he bows. “It would be an honor, Your Highness.”
The music swells just as his hand closes around yours, fingers twining, and the two of you settle into the proper stance. His other hand rests delicately on your waist, and for a moment you struggle to place your free hand somewhere. He smirks at you, his eyes narrowed in unspoken jeer. Your glower isn’t harsh in the slightest, for your scrunched features give way to a wide, toothy grin when you tug him towards you. His delight is palpable, and he falls into the pace you set with measured finesse.
It’s easy to recount the steps crucial to a standard ballroom dance, and you execute them as if it’s as natural as breathing. The two of you glide effortlessly across the sleek floor, your reflections cast in dappled light. Swaying to and fro like a marionette, your dress billowing behind you, you lift your gaze to his. He’s smiling—truly smiling!—and the sight fills you with satisfaction. You can’t explain it, but it’s so very wonderful to behold a side of Jade that isn’t the reticent walking danger he subjects the school to. Not that that side is bad. For all of the trouble he causes you, you don’t mind it.
You thought you could dislike him, if only to make it easier to pursue Floyd, but rather you gravitate towards the companionship he provides. And not because he’s a phony Floyd, but because he’s Jade.
“See? I told you I could dance.”
“I didn’t doubt you for a moment.”
“Said the liar.”
“My expectations were quite low to begin with.”
Jade twirls you with minimal effort, and you giggle, following the pace he sets alongside the magnificent tempo. You gaze into his mismatched eyes. He’s nothing like Floyd. Tonight he’s Jade, and for the first time that’s much better than any performance he could ever put on.
“I learned back home, but I never stuck with it because I didn’t have a partner to try the routines with. But then I was transported here and I found out Floyd loves to dance, so I practiced in hopes that one day I might be able to—whoa!”
He lowers you into a dip just then. Startled by the sudden change in position, you cling to him while your heart spikes up into your throat.
“Oops.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Jade smiles down at you, unaffected. “You’re a wonderful dancer.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
“You just did.” He lifts you up, spins you gracefully, and pulls you flush against his chest. “Your body says everything your lips do not.”
“Yeah? Then what am I saying now?”
Standing on the tips of your toes, you hook your arm around his neck and turn to smirk at him. His arm wraps around your stomach, firmly holding you in place against him, while his other hand splays across your chin, guiding your gaze towards his. You hold his stare with a smoldering determination, your hearts beating as one amidst intimate proximity. And then, with his eyelids fluttering to a near-close, he tilts your head further up, leaning down to capture your waiting lips in a soft, soulful kiss.
There are no squirming tongues, clicking teeth, or bloodied maws. Just a precious press of his mouth to yours, an unvoiced declaration of desire.
“That you’re immensely proud,” he whispers, his lips now centimeters from yours, “because you’ve proven my assumptions wrong. More than that, you hoped to catch me off guard.”
“And did I?”
“Why not read my body language and find out for yourself, hm?”
“Sly eel,” you mutter, impressed with his temerity. “You know that’s not gonna work on me. Not unless you’re Floyd.”
“Perhaps not.” Jade spins you out of his hold, disentangling the both of you from your propinquity. “But it’s worth a try, no?”
“A valiant effort.” You pull him along, easing back into the waltz like well-oiled clockwork. Your feet follow the steps in time with the tinkling melody. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Can’t get enough of me?”
He flashes his teeth at you in a menacing grin. “Is honesty not the best policy?”
“It is when you follow it.”
“In that case, we share a commonality.” His fingers crawl up your shoulder to brush the ribbon around your throat. “We’re both liars seeking the comforts of dishonesty.”
“Don’t group me with you.”
“Are you not just as shameless, or am I mistaken?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yeaaah? Even though I’m Shrimpy’s favorite? Ain’t I the most congenial?”
Despite yourself, you laugh. “You think he’d say it like that?”
“Not in the slightest, and yet you’d still manage to fall for it.”
“Every time. Without fail.”
Exhaling a disconsolate breath, his smile thins and his eyes cloud over with despondency. “Very predictable.”
The two of you waltz until midnight, exchanging banter and recalling dance-related stories while gliding across an illuminated floor. Your gown falls away in diamond-shaped patches when you step out of the lounge and into the tunnel hall, now back in the clothes you were wearing when you first arrived. You frown when you catch sight of your plain reflection, the fast-paced, upbeat glamour of the evening withering into something slow and quiet. As if it was all but a fleeting dream.
“I can’t believe I’m admitting this,” you say after he’s caught up to you, “but I had fun tonight.”
Jade nudges you. “Ain’t it always fun when you’re with me? You sayin’ this is the only time?”
“Oh, shush.” You return his Floyd-like prodding with some of your own antagonizing pokes. “I had fun with Jade when he’s Jade. There. I said it. You’re not so terrible to hang out with.”
“What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”
“You heard me.”
“One more time.”
“You wish.”
He chuckles. “I suppose I should return the favor. You aren’t so difficult to manage either.”
“That’s a completely different statement. And so backhanded, too!”
“Was yours not worded the same?”
You roll your eyes as the both of you exit Octavinelle via magic bubble. Pressing your palm against the smooth surface, you admire the endless sprawl of ocean, lit by deep-sea bioluminescence and the few artificial lights surrounding Octavinelle territory. Despite the creeping shadows and occasional darting of sea creatures, it’s prepossessing like a mystery. You’re so absorbed in your ogling, so transfixed by the aquatic scenery before you, that you fail to notice he’s watching you closely.
It’s so pretty… I wonder if Floyd thinks so every time he returns to Octavinelle. Or maybe it’s nothing spectacular to him because he lives this back in the Coral Sea. You spot Jade’s reflection then, your eyes zeroing in on his placid smile. Jade probably thinks the same. Actually, what even goes through his head? I can never tell.
With a contented sigh, you turn to slump against the bubble and cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to walk me back, you know. It’s out of your way.”
“No, but I insist.”
You shoot him a dubious look, wondering what it is he might possibly want in return for his act of goodwill. Unable to read his intentions, you resolve to take it as it is: a kind gesture.
“Well, thanks for being so chivalrous.”
Under a velvety sea of stars, Jade escorts you all the way to Ramshackle. You hurry to hold the gate open for him and he catches on to your scramble with pointed perception.
“In case you’re unaware, I am capable of doing good deeds without the need for compensation.”
“You’re such a liar!” you exclaim, shaking your head and ushering him through. “No Octavinelle student has ever said that and meant it.”
“Then I shall be the first.”
You swat at his arm and then skip ahead two stone steps. “Yeah, right. You’re way too opportunistic for that.”
Jade stops beside you at Ramshackle’s front door. “I’ve heard a new hire will be joining us. It would be quite convenient if she was made to do all of the work under the guise of training, wouldn’t you agree?”
“That poor new hire. I wonder who it could possibly be,” you say, your delivery flat and unamused. “It’ll be my first day. Have mercy on me.”
“I’ll consider it.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “I’m demoting you back to villain. No more sidekick privileges.”
“I hardly had any to begin with.”
“Hey! Not true! You—”
Just then, a cacophony of chortles pierce the air. You whirl and find three transparent heads poking through the front door, their features alight with mischief.
“Aah, young love. Takes me back.”
“To what? The last century?”
“Hah! I’m surprised you can even remember that far back!”
Your eyes widen to a comical size. “G-Ghosts?! What’re you doing here? How long were you listening in?”
“Long enough,” they answer in eerie unison, all giggles. Hungry for gossip as usual.
“You finally get your kiss with the Leech boy?”
“Yeah! We were waitin’ for ages.”
“Can’t really age anymore, though, but it sure did feel like an eternity. You’d think we’d be dead by now.”
“Oh, wait, we already are! Hah!”
“Sooo, didja get your kiss?”
Burning with embarrassment, you swat at the three of them, seething through your teeth. Your hands pass through their frigid apparitions no matter how much you flail. They reshape themselves with ease, laughing throughout the process.
“Ew, no! Wrong twin!” you hiss, shaking your head. “That’s Jade, guys. Jade.”
They peer past you at him. He smiles and lowers into a respectful bow. “Good evening.”
“So it is indeed Mr. Jade!”
“Apologies. We mistook you for your brother.”
“Greetings! Fine evening for a little smoochin’, don’tcha think?”
“Stop!” You gasp, your face hot with humiliation. “You’re making it worse! Please go back inside. I’ll be in in just a second.” Your attempt to push them through the door is made in vain, for they can’t be moved or touched. “Shouldn’t you guys be scaring Grim or something? Give me a break!”
Jade catches your wrist just as you attempt to bring your fist down against the door. The ghosts vanish into thin air, their cackles a haunting echo.
You huff, offended that they left before you could scold them. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
He squeezes your hand to soothe your bubbling temper. “There’s no need to fret. They’re merely teasing.”
You’re slow to snatch your hand back. “Yeah. Well… Still.”
“Still?”
“It’s awkward!”
“You’ve made so many bold declarations regarding Floyd, so I was under the impression you weren’t capable of feeling even the tiniest shred of shame. If I recall, weren’t you begging to be bitten in the botanical garden? You wanted my teeth in your shoulder, did you not? You wanted ‘Floyd’ to mark you in such a way so that everyone would know—so that they’d see physical proof of our relations.”
Your mouth drops open in horror. He remembers that?
“S-Shut up! Stop talking!” You bound forwards, pushing him down the stairs and towards the exit. Jade allows this, covering each step without scrimmage. “Seriously, you just love to run your mouth, don’t you?”
“You’re more than welcome to remedy that. According to your friendly poltergeists, tonight is prime for kissing.”
“Kiss me and I’ll kick you in your kneecaps.”
“How cruel.” He feigns a pout, eyes glossing over. “Shrimpy’s so violent…”
You’re about to retort when you remember the kiss he snagged at the lounge during your waltz, and suddenly his crocodile tears are rendered ineffective.
You shove him through the gate, refusing to dignify his nonsense with a reply. “Goodbye! Farewell! Get out!”
“Sweet dreams, Shrimpyyy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good night.” You flick your hand at him in a shooing motion before latching the gate shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jade.”
Shrugging off his Floydness, he returns to himself and pauses as if reflecting. He places his hands on the fence and leans closer to you. Without thinking, you meet him halfway. Before either of you can linger, he closes the distance to kiss your cheek.
“Officially Octavinelle,” he reminds you with a wink.
You stumble away so fast you almost trip. Jade chuckles behind his fist, annoyingly kittenish.
“I hate you.”
“You don’t mean that. Shrimpy loooves me,” he calls out in Floyd’s voice as he departs.
“As if, asshole!”
You scowl at his retreating figure until he’s a mere speck. Once he’s gone, you relax and rub at your face. The feeling of his lips is branded into both your skin and memory, and you fear it will remain like that for a long time. Not wanting to think about what that could mean, you spin on your heel, stomp the rest of the way to your dorm, and throw the door open.
“Ghosts, get back out here!” The authority in your voice morphs into uncontainable glee when you spot them peeking at you from the ceiling. You squeal and jump about the foyer, spinning and whooping all at once. “Oh my gosh! I have so much to tell you! Wake Grim—he’s gotta hear this!”
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second part.
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cloudcountry · 11 months
Note
GOOD TIME MY FELLOW FISH LIKER-
I HAVE COME TO YOUR FISH MARKET FOR MORE FISH!
Eels specifically.
CONSIDER!!! Eel Twin of your choice with an eel apologist.
Like Jade feeds someone a poisonous mushroom and they're like "Your fault for not being resistant to posion lmao" or [Reader holding Floyd's face gently] Someone: "HOW CAN YOH DO THAT?! THAT IS A FACE OF A KILLER!!!" [Offended dramatic gasp from reader] "FLOYD IS BABY!!! HE IS INNOCENT!!! THOSE PEOPLE OBVIOUSLY DIED ON PURPOSE!!" [Proceeds to coo and squish Floyd's face]
SUMMARY: Jade & Floyd with an "eel apologist."
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: literally me!! this was so fun to write C:<
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When Jade offered you a dish with his prized mushrooms in it, he did not expect you to eat it. Everyone else at the table looked on in horror as you ate, savoring the dish. You finish the entire thing, look up at everyone staring, and huff out a harsh, “What?”
One of the student side eyes Jade before leaning in and whispering something to you. Jade is smiling just as serenely as he always is, never giving anything away, never concerned for others' opinions.
“Are you stupid?” you tilt your head, words blunt and piercing, “Jade would never do anything like that. The dish was good, and you’d know that if you just tried it.”
You both know Jade would absolutely do whatever that poor soul suggested, but you still turn to Jade with an apologetic smile. “Thanks for the meal, Jade. It was really good.” You get up and hug him, squeezing him tightly just like his brother.
Jade, having been given an opportunity to stare down the people you were sitting with without being caught by you, smirks. His grin is wide, taunting, and they shudder. You all should know better than to try and turn Jade’s precious little pearl on him.
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“Shrimpyyyy!” is all you hear before your friends grab your arm and try to tug you down the hallway, fear in their eyes. You, however, stay rooted to the spot as you try to wiggle your arm out of their hold.
You don’t quite do it in time, but Floyd helps you. He scoops you up by your armpits and tears you away from your friends with a soft gasp. “Why were you guys crowding around Shrimpy like a school of minnows?” he hisses, and he does not sound happy.
“Floyd! how’s my favorite little moray doing?” you squash his face between your hands, kneading the skin. Your friends gasp in terror, but Floyd looks like he just won the grand prize for an event.
“Little moray?” he giggles, swinging you around, “Careful, Shrimpy. This little moray might just eat you alive.” Your friends gasp and shudder, looking scared for your life, but you just lean in close and rub your noses together.
“That’d be a good way to go out.” you giggle, smacking a kiss on the tip of his nose, “But you’d never do something like that!” Your friends are about to protest, but Floyd pulls you close and glares at them over your shoulder. Oh, you’re definitely not the one he’d eat alive.
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misscinnamonroll16 · 4 months
Text
Don't mind me, just have trolls brain rot. Here are some of my headcanons
Jd and Floyd are both left handed, clay is right handed, Bruce and Branch could either way for me.
Clay was an absolutely FERAL child. No filter, bad ideas left and right, a little chaos gremlin. Boy should have been put on a leash.
Clay was also a creepy kid. Hed stare into JD and Bruce's souls in the middle of the night.
It probably goes without saying but Floyd was a crybaby. Especially when he was a baby.
Jd knows how to do magic tricks. It was a dumb skill that he learned to entertain his lil bros. But when they got older they started to think it was lame so he stopped. He still uses it when he encountered a kid on his travels
Clay once pulled one of Floyd's baby teeth out to get the quarter that the tooth fairy would leave
Until the band broke up, JD was the only one who knew how to cook.
Clay is great at math (thus why he's a CPA). So when they were still in school, Bruce and JD tried to get clay to do their math hw for them.
There were times when JD and Bruce ganged up on the younger ones and told them lies. Some of which being: they have a long lost brother, anything to do with Santa,the tooth fairy, or monsters and that you can buy babies from a special store (clay was on sale)
Johns go to greeting now that they're older is a smack on the butt for his bros
John still tries to pick up his brothers despite the fact that they are grown ass adults. Floyd's the easiest to pick up, then Branch then clay then Bruce.
Before branch, Floyd was closest to john
Jd and Bruce knew Floyd was gay before Floyd knew he was gay. They made jokes about it that went over the younger twos heads
When Floyd got into makeup, he looked like every little girl who got into her mom's makeup. Bruce caught him and helped him out the best he could despite the fact he had no idea what he was doing
Clay and Floyd also ganged up on the older two. Pranks and generally annoying younger sibling stuff.
Brandy is an only child, Bruce is not. So when their kids do something that their father did as a child, he knows what's up. Example: one or more of them put on a "show" to distract their parents while the others steal cookies out of the cookie jar. Bruce immediately knew something was up and called them out on it
That's it for now
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Note
I finally came up with a request! Would you be able to write "Octatrio (separate) teaching reader how to swim" (inspired by the fact that I can't swim after a whole swim class and my family trying to teach me). I understand that Floyd's character is a little difficult to write, so if you need me to, I can request something different!
I love the Octotrio, they are along with Vil (my beloved) my favourite characters! I hope you enjoy this headcanon, especially since it's my first time writing for twisted
Teaching you how to swim
Characters: Azul, Jade and Floyd Established relationships, Reader is gender neutral
Azul Ashengrotto
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When he learned that you couldn’t swim he was shocked to be honest.
He had just informed you that his mother would love for you and him to visit her and her husband in the Coral Sea so they could finally meet you. He left out the fact that his mom called you ‘the person that has our Azul wrapped around their finger’ you did not need to know the power you have over him.
Now don’t get me wrong, Azul is fully aware that not every land dweller is able to swim, but he just assumed that you would be able to.
Azul, being Azul, quickly tried to overplay his shock with a proposal (sadly not a marriage one).
He would teach you how to swim, if you swore to never bring up any of the baby pictures of him his mother was bound to show you once you were visiting her. Especially to the twins
This incentive made you giggle, he may have gotten slightly better with accepting his past self, but he still had a few hiccups about it. But of course you agreed, after all you wanted to meet the woman who raised your boyfriend! (and also wanted to see his baby pictured since they were bound to be adorable)
Now before he teaches you how to swim, he is learning things himself, obviously learning how to swim is very different if you grew up in the sea as an Octo-mer or are a normal human.
Azul wants to be sure he can be the best teacher possible for you so he throws himself into research, which of course makes him a big target for teasing from the twins.
When it comes to actually teaching you how to swim, no matter how nervous you are he will be 100 times more nervous.
Much to your disappointment he refuses to be in his octopus form while he teaches you how to swim.
But despite that he is an amazing teacher, making sure you are safe and that you understand everything.
If he has to touch you to correct your form, he will ask politely if he can do so, all while blushing furiously and dying from embarrassment on the inside.
With him as a teacher you get the hang of swimming rather fast and don’t need that many lessons, once you are able to swim fully on your own he will praise you for being such a good student.
Jade Leech
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Unlike Azul he wasn’t shocked that you couldn’t swim, it was a small surprise sure, but nothing that would throw him off.
You told him you couldn’t swim when he told you about his plans to take you on a date in the ocean to look at Marine fungi (I googled they actually exist cause I was unsure lol) and then to go to the restaurant Azul’s mom owned.
Jade was quiet for a second after you told him, just looking at you which was rather unnerving to say the least.
He stared at you like that for a moment before giving you a close eyed smile “Well, we can’t have that can’t we my love?” he had his hand on his chin as he said that, still smiling.
You were just confused, what did he mean by that and why was he smiling like that? Despite dating him for a while his close eyed smile still was unnerving sometimes.
“I will just have to teach you how to swim. I would not want to go see the Marine fungi alone or with anyone else, so this is the only option, don't you agree?”
You just nodded, still somewhat confused. And that is how you found yourself in a pool alone with Jade a few days later. Did you want to know how he managed to get the pool to be empty for just the two of you? No.
He is in his human form, but he would change into his eel form if you wanted him too, but you may or may not have to beg for it.
Jade is not as good a teacher as Azul but still solid. He did not do research on how to teach humans how to swim, he just somehow knows how to.
 Also unlike Azul he isn’t embarrassed if he has to touch you to correct your form or to help you, on the contrary he will make you embarrassed.
He has his typical smile on his face as he holds you, and whispers in your ear, nothing dirty, just whispers about your swimming like what you can do better or what you are doing good, but it is enough to embarrass you and make you flustered.
 It takes a bit longer than with Azul for you to learn how to swim, mostly due to him flustering you nearly any chance he has, but he is still an adequate teacher.
Floyd Leech
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You barely had the time to tell him you can’t swim until it was nearly too late.
He had somehow gotten the idea to take you on  a surprise beach date and as soon as you were at the beach he pulled you along to the water, school uniform still on and everything.
You tried to stop him, but the tall eel was stronger than you so you had to yell out to him that you can’t swim just as your feet were about to touch the water.
Floyd stool still in his tracks, turning around looking confused but then smiling wide. “Whaat? Shrimpy can’t swim? But you are a shrimpy, how can that be?” 
You tried to explain to him that you simply never learned it but he interrupted you.
“Well I can’t have a shrimpy who can’t swim so Floydie is gonna have to teach you!” You gulped at how excited he sounded.
If it were up to him he would have just taught you how to swim right then and there at the beach but you convinced him that it would be better to do it in a pool…once you wore swimming clothes and not the school uniform, he agreed but only if he could squeeze you on the way back from the beach.
Unlike his brother, Floyd will be in his eel form the whole time while he teaches you how to swim, which makes it a bit harder for him to explain things to you since he doesn’t have legs, but he refuses to switch back.
He honestly doesn’t know what he is doing, he is just going with the vibes white teaching you and it somehow works.
Though be prepared that he will splash you with water, especially with his tail saying it is to imitate waves of the sea, but you know he is just being a little shit.
If you thought you wouldn’t get squeezed while trying to learn how to swim, you are severely mistaken, he will wrap his tail and his arms around you, squeezing you against his chest, if it were anyone else you’d probably be scared of going down in the water but you knew you could trust Floyd in that regard.
But he isn’t a complete asshole and will genuinely praise you for the progress you are making, since that means you two are one step closer to swimming in the sea together!
It will probably take the longest to learn how to swim when Floyd is the one teaching you, but it also is the most fun, since he doesn’t take things so seriously and just wants that the both of you amuse yourselves.
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wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Text
Eyes on me
floyd x gn!reader
Its rlly hard writing this w one hand because i had a bit of a medical emergency last night (in fact i'm in the hospital as i'm typing this) but we survive
so imagine my surprise when i got my baby boy floyd in all his basketball glory (as a consolation from the sevens i assume)
long story short this calls for a floyd fic
(also i use the word stadium a lot here, by that i mean a more small, local stadium and not one of those big NBA league ones)
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"I told you, I'm not playing." Floyd crossed his arms and pouted like a little toddler. "Floyd. This is an important match. We have no time for one of your tantrums." Jamil tried reasoning with him, but it was all for naught. It seems like Floyd is inconsolable right now.
The coach was very close to losing it at this point. The match was drawing closer and closer and Floyd's mood was getting worse and worse.
The team could already hear the people coming into the stadium.
"What are you even so sad about?" Ace questioned, getting a bit annoyed with Floyd.
"Little Shrimpy promised to come see me but isn't here yet... " Floyd glanced at the people sitting on the bleachers, searching for your face in the crowd. When he didn't see you, his pout increased.
"... That's why you're refusing to play?" Jamil couldn't believe his ears. Neither could anyone else in the club right now. Is this dude really 17 years old? He seems like a bit of an overgrown 5 year old right now.
Well, the coach knew he was taking a risk when placing Floyd on the team seeing as things like this are very likely to happen. All he can do now is hope you actually show up so he won't have one potentially amazing player less.
.
"Oh crap, Floyd's match! I almost forgot!" You quickly got up, startling your classmates. You had to stay with some of them to work on a group project professor Crewel gave you. "Anyone wanna come watch basketball with me?"
A few of your classmates agreed to go while others said they had plans to get to.
And so you went.
"Can't believe you forgot it, idiot." Grim scolded you. "Oh yeah? and who was the one sleeping away in my lap while we had to do all the work?" you shot back and he grumbled something under his breath as a response.
The two classmates going with you huffed in amusement at your reply.
By now, you were already at the entrance to the stadium. You saw Floyd play before at practice and you know how good he can get when he's fired up. But you also know how he can be when the opposite is true.
You just hope he's in a good mood right now. If he isn't, you'll just cheer for him until he is.
You sat down on the bleachers, chatting with your classmates about the project as you waited for the match to start.
.
"Hey, isn't that the Prefect right the-ack!" Ace got pushed away by Floyd who's eyes immediately scanned the bleachers again. When he saw you, his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face.
"Shrimpy is here!~" the sudden change in mood surprised even the coach. Well, he supposes the issue is solved now.
His eyes darkened, however, when he saw you laughing with your classmates. You're here for him, not some rando dudes from your class.
Suddenly, he feels determined to play so well you won't take your eyes off him for even a second. He'll make sure of it.
"Hey. We're going to beat the other team so hard they cry. Got it?" he suggested with a horrifying expression on his face. The entire team felt too afraid to do anything but nod in agreement.
That's the second mood change he had in a matter of 30 seconds. Now the entire team is just generally concerned for him.
As the NRC team walked out, you smiled at Floyd and waved to him, Grim raising his little paw to wave too. He smiled back at you widely, flailing his arms around like an excited child at you. When he looked away, however, his expression darkened once more.
Better keep your eyes on him the whole time or someone from the other team might not make it out unscathed.
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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months
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BROZONE PETNAME HEADCANNONS
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JOHN DORY:
He definitely calls you Babe, baby or maybe hun?
Or an inside joke pet name
Definitely the vibe of trying to one up each other with very over the top pet names
John Dory: my hunny bunny
Y/n: m’y knight in shining in armour
John Dory: the light of my life, wind in my sails- my goddess of love
Y/n: ok, you win that was awful
John Dory: told you!
Waiter: *has been listening to them go back and forth for ten minutes* are you ready to pay yet?
John Dory: *smugly smiling at Y/n* yes I am
CLAY:
Definitely short versions of your name, or if your name is already short then just your initial!
Though I think once he gets comfortable in the relationship maybe he’ll start calling you teasing names
Clay: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?
Y/n: What? Like J F K W S Q X-
Clay:No, like, U R A Q T.
Y/n:Awwww!
SPRUCE/BRUCE:
Calls you Darling, Love, and all the good sweet names!
He pretends to hate it when you call him your heart throb or something cliche or referring to his band days- but secretly loves it
Y/n: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.
Bruce: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.
Floyd:
He’s so sweet to you! Calls you: Mine, my sunshine, my girl!
He just gets a dreamy look on his face when you say his name- but he melts into a puddle if you give him a pet name!
*at a faire*
Y/n: *spots à stall they want to go to* let’s go pretty boy
Everyone:????
Floyd: me?
Y/n: *turns and grabs Floyd’s hand* pretty boy with me I said
Floyd: *dreamliy* pretty?
835 notes · View notes
storydays · 5 months
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Clay X Wife! Reader
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"We call them meat circles." Clay greeted his brothers dramatically. Their brothers and Poppy greeted him in varying ways before he continued to pinch and baby-talk Branch, ignoring his pleas to call him "Big Branch" or just "Branch."
A voice called out, "Clay, darling, if you want to talk to an actual baby...yours are right here." The group turned to see a light-pink-haired Troll, wearing a dress with a similar design to Clay, walking over with 2 peach color haired Tollings, one sleeping who had mini wrist bands and a diaper and one awake, a yellow pacifier in her mouth, with a couple of flowers placed in her hair and a diaper.
"Melody! Hey, sweetheart, you're finally awake!" Turning to the woman as he took the baby, his eyes softened even more, "Hey (Y/N), how was your nap? You feeling better, baby?"
(Y/N) smiled, adjusting her son slightly. "Yeah, I feel like that fog in my brain is lifted, like I can think clearer. But enough about me, who are the new Trolls?"
"Oh, yeah! Everyone, this is my wonderful wife, (Y/N), and mother of our twins, Melody and Lallo! Baby, these are my brothers, John Dory, Spruce, who goes by Bruce now, and Bit-I mean Branch. That's Poppy, Branch's girlfriend---and wait a second, where's Floyd?" Clay asked, looking for his slightly younger brother.
After explaining why they were there, Bruce spoke up. "Wait, I just realized, you're a dad, too Clay!" He laughed excitedly. Clay grinned from where they were tickling Melody. "Yeah, man! These two are only a few weeks old, but they are amazing! I wouldn't change anything for them."
Melody then started to pull on her father's wild green locks. "Ow! Mel-Mel! Let go! (Y/N), get your demon child!" "Mm-no." snorted (Y/N), as she then gave Clay their son who'd woken up wanting to play with his sister and father. "You traitor!" cried Clay, fighting his grin yelping again when one of the twins grabbed his hair and pulled hard.
Viva and (Y/N) giggled, before finally giving mercy to the CPA. They each took a twin and turned to the group to give Clay a chance to compose themself.
-----------------------------LINE BREAK-----------------------------------
(Y/N) knew it would bother Clay if he didn't try to help his brothers, but she didn't want them in danger.
Clay gave the sleeping twins a kiss on the head before pressing his forehead against hers, cupping her cheek, and wiping away a few tears. "Promise you'll be safe and come home, okay? These babies are too young to be without their dad. And I don't want to be a widow."
Laughing softly, Clay whispered, "I promise," before pressing a kiss to her lips, and let her rush off to stall Viva.
Bruce pat his brother's shoulder and led them to Rhonda. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get you back to your wife and kids."
-----------------------------LINE BREAK--------------------------------
After freeing Clay and the others freed Floyd, they came to rest at Putt Putt village and picking up (Y/N) and the twins.
Everyone getting along so well, and Bruce offering advice for those first time parent jitters, he could see written all over both of the younger couple's face.
(Y/N) being the most supportive wife,and getting along splendidly with Bruce's wife, Brandi.
The two having a bi monthly moms date, having a monthly girls' night, with Poppy, Viva, Bridget.
Every month, (Y/N) takes her daughter Melody and Brandi brings her daughters for a mommy daughter cousins sisters in law date.
(Y/N) being the Putt-Putt troll preschool teacher, having her kids in class when they're old enough.
Melody and Lallo are both names after music(Melody being the melody of a song, and Lallo means lullaby in Spanish.)
I headcanon that the Putt Putt trolls' two main languages are English and Spanish.
Let me know what you guys think!
@vacayisland
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harunayuuka2060 · 8 months
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*F!MC messaged the GC to share the news about her pregnancy*
F!MC: Guys! I'm pregnant! 🥰
Leona: Oh my gosh! I'm going to be a father! 😍
Ruggie: Bruh—
Jack: Leona-senpai talks like that?
Vil: I understand that you're excited, but you're not even the husband, Leona.
Leona: So? 🙄
Rook: Congratulations, Trickster! ☺️
F!MC: Thanks, Rook!
Professor Crewel: I'm too young to be a grandfather.
Professor Crewel: Give me daily updates.
F!MC: 🥹
Leona: We should hire a private obstetrician for our baby.
Lilia: That's not your baby. That's Malleus's.
Leona: Is it an egg?
Lilia: No?
Leona: Then that's not his.
Ace: 🤣🤣🤣
Ace: Yo, Deuce! Check this out!
Deuce: MC's laying an egg?
Ace: Idiot! Just read the whole convo first!
Kalim: MC~!!!!!! You're preggy?!! 🤩🤩🤩
Jamil: Just so everyone knows, he was squealing while typing that.
F!MC: Aww~!
Idia: My cat is pregnant too. And no one cared.
Idia: Except MC. Congratulations, bby.
F!MC: Ty, Idia! 💙
Malleus: ???
Malleus: ...
Malleus: Why are you claiming my child, Kingscholar?
Leona: Because I'll be its stepdad.
Malleus: ...
Malleus: *sent a voice message* "Pathetic."
Leona: *sent a voice message* "Ha! You're scared!".
F!MC: *sent a voice message* "Knock it off, you two!"
Azul: Look at this, Jade, Floyd.
Jade: You should be joining in this, Azul.
Floyd: Yeah. Isn't yours an unrequited love?
Azul: ...
Ace: 🤣😂
Ace: You're already married and they're still fighting over you. 😂
Epel: Let's pretend you didn't cry when she rejected you, Ace.
Ace: Dude!
Malleus: You too, Trappola?
Ace: No! That's in the past! 💀
1K notes · View notes
bussyslayer333 · 1 year
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All I want for Christmas (is you)
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summary: some fortunately placed mistletoe forces bob to tell you how he truly feels.
pairing: robert floyd x best friend!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, slutshaming jake LOL, bob is a pussyeater™️ bc i said so
MDNI this is an 18+ fic
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Robert Floyd has been your closest friend for the past 2 years. You had been worried when you first moved to San Diego for a fresh start that it had been a horrible mistake, in fact you were sat in homesick tears at the beach when he stumbled upon you. Since that day he hadn’t really left your side, which is where he could be found currently.
You were both nursing an interesting mulled wine that Rooster had tried to brew for the team Christmas party. You weren’t quite sure why you were here since you didn’t work with said group of aviators who had become your closest friends but they had absolutely insisted.
The night had just started really, Penny was graciously hosting the gathering at the festively decorated Hard Deck which she had closed just for the team. You had begged her to let you help in some way since you were leaching on to their party so she had allowed you to help her decorate along with Mav and Rooster. The perimeter was surrounded in sparkly tinsel and fairy lights, there was a large tree in the corner of the room covered in mismatched baubles and a large piece of mistletoe hanging down in the other corner. You were still wary of Rooster’s mischievous giggles as he taped it up.
When the rest of the aviators had arrived along with the few higher ups Mav had invited they had all commended your decorating skills, especially Bob. He had told you very early on that Christmas was one of his favourite holidays, evident now by his gaudy (and most definitely itchy) Christmas sweater he was wearing.
“Baby on board, you’re gonna have to turn that shit off I’m pretty sure your interfering with some type of space station signal right now.”
Jake laughed, referring to the Christmas lights which actually lit up on Bob’s sweater. You jumped to his defence immediately,
“What are you even supposed to be? Slutty Santa? Tasteful.”
Phoenix snorted into her wine, though you weren’t sure if it was because she had accidentally swallowed a cinnamon stick again.
Jake smirked, “you want to come sit on my lap and find out?”
He gestured down to the tight black slacks he was wearing, it was paired with a very lowly buttoned up red silk shirt and a tiny Santa hat that had been placed on his head by Maverick upon his entrance.
You roll your eyes and don’t dignify him a response whilst everyone slowly resumes their previous conversation.
“Thanks darlin’.” Bob smiled down at you somewhat bashfully.
You giggle at him and flick the button on his sweater which changes the setting on the lights to fade in and out of their colours slowly.
“I love this sweater.”
“I know you do, that’s why I wore it.”
You look up to meet his eyes and he’s looking at you earnestly. You flush slightly but blame it on the drinks you’ve been consuming.
You’re snapped from his gaze when Fanboy announces loudly that he and Payback will be starting off karaoke.
Their rendition of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and Fanboy has a surprisingly high vocal range. Bob is snickering into your hair behind you, trying to appear encouraging for his fellow WSO but failing slightly.
“Bet you 50 that bagman is gonna sing Mariah.”
You turn, shocked at Bob’s admission, “no way! He’s gonna sing some Frank Sinatra classic in hopes that I’ll start swooning.”
Bob raises his eyebrows and sticks his hand out for you to shake. You hum, considering your options then finally give in, placing your hand in his. Bob notes how soft your hand is compared to his, he strokes your thumb slightly before letting go. The contact brings heat to your cheeks that you hope isn’t too visible.
“You’re on Robby.”
Bob’s lips quirk up at the nickname but he doesn’t mention it, and he stalks off to get himself another drink. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Phoenix approaches.
She has a sly smile on her face but still looks gorgeous nonetheless, she’s wearing an emerald satin top and black jeans. You go to complement her but she cuts in,
“You look gorgeous, I love this dress, when are you and Bob going to fuck?”
You’re still comprehending her comment about your dress before her full statement registers in your brain. You gawk at her for a second whilst she chuckles evilly.
“I- we’re not- Look me and Bob are just friends.”
She rolls her eyes, Phoenix has been your second closest friend since moving to San Diego. Her presence was always welcome and you usually adored her but you weren’t enjoying what she was currently insisting upon. And that wasn’t because it isn’t true, but more because you’re worried what will happen if you finally say it aloud.
“You are thinking so loudly right now.”
You shove her shoulder lightly, “He’s not interested in me.”
You look over to where Bob is stood at the bar, talking to a tall redhead. You think her name is Isla, she works in the control tower and to your knowledge was invited by Halo.
Phoenix laughs at your admission and wistful expression, “I cannot believe you’re this down bad for a man in a light up Christmas sweater. Also, he is head over heels for you.”
“I like his sweater!”
“You are the only one in here who thinks that.”
You hmph at Phoenix’s comment, “I bet she does as well.”
You gesture to the redhead who is now laughing heartily as Bob shows her the different settings on his sweater.
“Who? Halo’s girlfriend?”
You splutter slightly on your drink.“I thought she had a thing with that girl at work- ohhhhhhh.”
Phoenix scoffs slightly, “Glad to know you pay attention to the rest of us babe.”
“Shush, should I go talk to him?”
“You don’t need to.”
You look confusedly at Phoenix until you feel a familiar strong hand on your waist.
“I’m not interrupting am I?”
Phoenix answers for you, “Of course not, she’s all yours.”
With that, she winks and is off. You turn to face Bob, he’s significantly taller than you and it feels evident now even with your heels on. You’re craning your neck up slightly to make eye contact with him. You take a second to study how he looks, his cheeks are tinted slightly pink and his lips look incredibly soft, his blue eyes are dilated behind his glasses where his hair flops slightly down onto. He forwent the gel because he knows you like his hair in its natural state, even if it impairs his vision even more. He speaks up first,
“You look really beautiful tonight.”
You avert your eyes from his, aware of the rising colour in your cheeks.
“You think?”
You’re fiddling girlishly with the hem of your dress, it’s a babydoll style dress that always got you many compliments.
“I know.”
You can sense that Bob has something else he wants to say but he’s interrupted by Rooster announcing the next person to come and sing.
“Bagman, please take the stage.”
Jake grabs the mic off Bradley and you hear him mumble something about getting his callsign right. Bob’s hand is in yours and he’s pulling you over to the corner of the room furthest from the stage. You look at him questioningly and he’s explaining himself with a smirk on his face,
“I wanted to give you some privacy whilst you lose this bet.”
You smack his arm playfully,
“Shut up, you’re just embarrassed you’re wrong.”
“Sureee.”
Jake has finally finished his rambling and selects a song. You’re certain he’s gonna pick a Sinatra classic and wait for the opening notes to Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It’s safe to say you’re surprised when the familiar jingle of Mariah Carey starts up and Jake is already belting out the first notes. You look at Bob, accusatory,
“You’ve rigged this!”
Bob is doubled over laughing, you finally take your eyes off of him to turn around and huff. Which is when you notice your fortunate position. You and Bob are stood directly under Rooster’s mistletoe. You freeze slightly which catches Bob’s attention, he follows your eye line.
“Gosh, I promise I didn’t drag you over here just to kiss you!”
“Just?” You tease.
“No! I mean obviously I would love to kiss you but that’s not what i meant! I wouldn’t ever trick you into-”
You shut up his rambling my planting a kiss on his lips, they’re as soft as you imagined and he tastes sweet like the cinnamon in the wine. He kisses you back almost immediately and your lips mould together perfectly. You pull away first, noticing some of your lipgloss had transferred onto his slightly swollen lips.
“Woah.”
Bob’s exclamation makes you giggle, he’s gazing down at you in awe and you feel enclosed in a fuzzy bubble where it’s just the two of you. Hangman’s awful singing sounds light years away as well as the rest of the crowds cheers for him. Bob places one of his hands on your waist and the other he uses to lift up and brush a stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.
“Can I kiss you again?” Bob whispers, ever the gentleman.
“I’d love you to.” You smile, leaning in.
You lips crash against each other again, with more vigour this time. Your hands rake through the hair at the back of his neck and he moans quietly into your mouth, giving you the initiative to slip your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your action, making you weak in the knees, unsteady in your heels. In the distance you hear Jake finishing up the last notes of Mariah Carey whilst everyone joins in at various different volumes. Bob pulls away and whispers into your ear,
“Do you think we could sneak out now?”
You go to protest, seeing as you haven’t been here long but see the lust blown look in his eyes and decide against it, instead nodding your head and slipping your hand into his. Bob drags you around the crowds to the exit of the Hard Deck. Before you can peacefully slip through the door you look back and catch Phoenix’s eye. She winks with a knowing smile and you giggle slightly. She was never wrong.
Finally leaving the Hard Deck you notice Bob is dragging you to his car,
“I’m only five mins away.” You smirk into his shoulder.
“Yours it is.”
The short drive to your house is tense, neither of you sure whether this was truly happening. Bob speaks up,
“As much as I want to fuck you, I can’t if it’s just gonna be a one time thing. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. ”
You look to him and see how honest he looks, gnawing at his lower lip nervously, your heart races at his admission. You smack his arm in annoyance.
“Ow!”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” You urge him, “I’ve been yours this whole time. All you had to do was tell me you’re mine.”
Bob looks down at you with such love in his eyes it’s hard to imagine that you just smacked the shit out of him. You’re pulling up to the outside of your cottage when he finally speaks up.
“I’m yours.”
You smash your lips again his for the third time this night with even more urgency, but you pull away even quicker, wary of your nosy middle aged neighbours.
Once your front door is closed, Bob’s hands are all over you. He’s lifting the hem of your dress to your waist and grabbing at the exposed skin. You let out slightly pathetic whimpers as his kisses make their way down your neck, chest and stomach.
“Never stop making those sounds for me darlin’.”
You whimper at the pet name, satiating him. His kisses reach your lower stomach where he finally stops to admire your panties. They’re cherry red, lacy, and don’t leave much to the imagination. He groans at the sight, making you flush even further whilst he toys with the little bow at the top.
“Can I?” He gestures downwards.
“Please.” You whine.
Bob’s nimble fingers are hooking under the sides of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles swiftly. He helps you step out of them, removing your heels along the way. You watch as he pockets the panties with a smile on his face and he quirks an eyebrow. Bob’s staring at your bare pussy like a man starved but you can’t help but giggle.
“Are you seriously about to eat me out wearing a light up Christmas sweater?”
Instead of dignifying you with an answer, Bob licks a fat stripe in between your folds, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder and forcing you to lean back against your entry way wall.
“Fuck, yeah okay then.” You whimper breathlessly.
Bob seems pleased with your reaction as he continues his ministrations, now kitten licking at your clit. You can feel the cool edges of his glasses hitting your lower stomach and your whole body feels alight with need for the man in front of you. He moves his tongue down to your entrance and dips it in slightly, his nose nudging at your clit. You moan out at the contact, spurring him on further. Bob’s tongue is fucking in and out of you, each time his nose brushes against your clit making you even weaker beneath his touch. Your hands are curled tight in his hair as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
“Fuck don’t stop, please Robby.”
Bob looks up at you from his position on his knees making you whine much louder than you should have. His hand moves down from its solid grip on your thigh to circle at you clit in tight circles. You’re moaning freely now, hips bucking up erratically. Bob can feel you’re close and he quickens his actions just enough to make you become even more high pitched as you reach you peak. Pleasure washes over you and Bob pulls his tongue away from you to watch you spasm.
“You taste so good darlin,” Bob whines, almost as breathless as you.
You can see your wetness around his mouth and his hard cock straining against his jeans.
“You’re incredible.” You simper, pulling Bob to his feet.
He pulls your lips together, making you moan at the taste of you on his tongue. Pulling away to look up at him, you finally rid yourself of your dress, pulling it up and over your head and dropping it to the floor beside you. You had forgone a bra whilst getting ready, so you stood bare in front of the still fully clothed Bob.
“God,” Bob groans, “You’re fucking amazing.”
“Robert! Your language is dreadful.” You giggle playfully.
He reaches for your hand and brings it down to his aching cock. It twitches beneath your palm which is significantly smaller than his,
“It’s just what you do to me.” He breathes into the side of your neck.
You pull away from him and turn around, making your way to the stairs that lead to your bedroom. Bob watches your figure retreat, focusing his eyes in on the way your hips sway and your ass moves as you walk. You turn your head to the side and beckon for him,
“You coming, Robby?”
Bob is hurriedly ridding himself of his sweater and jeans as he replies,
“Hopefully.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: CHRISTMAS BOB MY LOVE!!!! there will be more christmas fics for sure bc i am a festive gal tbh. lew lew loml
this is low-key self indulgent af sorry HEHEH
pls comment and reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!
ty for readinggggg :)
- honey <333
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mamsieur · 6 months
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Ink and Smoke I Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader
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Summary : Reuben's wife wants to play matchmakers with Bob. It usually fails until the whole squad has a tattoo appointment.
TW : none, full fluff, hyper self indulgent
Length : 3664 words
AN : maybe it's kind of a self insert fic because of the whole "reader is a tattooed girly" and maybe the bee tattoo is the one I have. Maybe.
posted on AO3 November 8, 2023
A few months had passed since the uranium mission and the squadron was settled to San Diego for good, and Bob had never been happier. He finally had everything and everyone he needed in one place. The squad was a new family for him, he grew close to each of them, even Jake.
Work was easier now that he was permanently stationed here, and he was glad that the squadron was a permanent unit as well ; they were always working together and getting missions as a special task force. He was able to teach new graduates with Phoenix, and he enjoyed being an instructor. 
Life was good. His little found family fell into an easy routine of Sunday brunches at each other's houses, days off at the beach playing dogfight football, evenings at the Hard Deck. Each of them got to meet the family of the others ; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners… Reuben was the first to introduce his wife, Josie, to the squadron and everyone loved her. They were expecting their first child and Mickey had appointed himself as godfather (not that Reuben had anything against it, but he had to talk it over with his wife). Josie had some sort of maternal aura that made them so comfortable, much like Penny ; even Bradley opened up to her about his past, and Jake always seemed to calm down when the pregnant woman gave him the "mommy" look.
As for his own love life, Bob’s friends had tried so many times to set him up on dates, and each time it had failed. The girls he was set up with had nothing to do with it for the most part ; Bob was sure they were great people, but they were always too much for him. He was a discreet and somewhat shy type of guy, he wasn't really comfortable with their extroverted behavior. And it wasn't like he was actively looking for a relationship; he liked being single most of the time. He had his ways, his habits, his comfort zone, and he wasn't in any hurry to leave it. His life was perfect as he saw it. But he couldn't deny that sometimes he felt lonely. He felt that way when he couldn't go home to his family, when he was on leave from work, or when he was asked to write his marital status on some paperwork. He felt that way when he listened to Natasha talk about her dates with her pretty hairdresser and how everything was going smoothly. He felt that way when he saw the girls at the bar only looking at Bradley, Javy, Jake or Mickey; he was right there but invisible. He felt that way when he was the last of his siblings and cousins to be single; his younger brother even got married this year. He felt that way when his father seemed to have to remind him that his last relationship was from before he left for naval school, and when his mother whined about her baby being all alone in San Diego.
Other than that, Bob didn't feel lonely. Not too much.
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When he arrived at the Hard Deck after another failed date, Josie sighed with a confused pout.
"Why didn't it work out this time, Bobby?"
He shrugged as he sat between her and Natasha on the stool across from the pool table where Jake and Bradley were playing. "She's just passing through San Diego and she... I don't know, she talked a lot about herself, I didn't have time to get a word in. And when I did, she didn't seem too interested in what I had to say."
"Yickes," Natasha grimaced, "you did well to leave that date early."
"Oh, well, in fact, I didn't... She actually was the one who cut it short, she had to meet a friend apparently. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled slightly at the girls, and Reuben’s wife rolled her eyes before finishing her ginger ale, rubbing her round belly.
"I give up, Bob. You'll find someone eventually, but I'm done trying to set you up. I hate seeing you like this."
"Like what?" he frowned a little, not understanding.
"Like a puppy that's been thrown out," Reuben said as he kissed his wife's temple, joining their conversation. She rolled her eyes, half amused. "That's the idea. You always look so disappointed and sad after these dates. And I know it makes you question your self-worth, and I don't want that. So we won't set you up anymore, consider this my early birthday present to you," she smiled. 
"Finally - Ouch!" he chuckled, stroking his side where Josie had elbowed him. She sighed with a smile and they moved on to more casual conversation. It was another casual night, and Bob was loving it. The brunette was right, he'll find someone eventually, why force fate?
As the night went on, one particular topic was brought back to the table; their matching tattoo project. The seven of them still hadn't decided what to get, but Reuben had already made an appointment with a tattoo artist that he and Josie had been to a few times; she had four tattoos, and three of them were by that artist. It was fine line, discreet; that style was perfect for the squad. 
"So, except for Reuben, this will be everyone's first tattoo?" Mickey asked, reading everyone's ideas again on Javy's phone. They all nodded and Natasha scoffed.
"Robert Floyd, stop lying to us! You have a tattoo!"
Bob blushed under the curious gaze of his friends, and if his eyes could throw knives, Phoenix would be dead.
"Come to think of it, we've never seen him without a shirt on," Mickey remarked, narrowing his eyes. The other boys agreed and Jake grinned.
"What kind of embarrassing ink you got Baby on board?"
"If it's the name of an ex-girlfriend, I swear we'll ask for the whole story!" Javy insisted. Everyone tried to guess, making Bob more and more embarrassed and Natasha smirked, proud of her. She saw his tattoo once, after a water fight. 
"Come on Robby, show them, it's not that bad..." she encouraged him, gently squeezing his forearm. The blond man pouted and sighed, pulling out his phone to find photos. He showed the screen to his friends when he found the picture he was looking for. The tattoo was on his ribs and it was a quote with a carnation flower underneath. Mickey couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he read the quote, his eyes shining with admiration, "Is that a Star Wars reference?"
"It is..." Bob muttered, "And my older cousin has the other half of the quote."
He swiped and showed them a picture of their tattoos side by side; his cousin’s said "Do or do not." with the flower above it, and Bob’s one said "There is no try."
"Nerd," Jake snorted, earning a nudge from Reuben.
"In our defense, we were barely eighteen when we made them, just before I went to naval school," he shrugged.
"I think it's cute," Josie smiled and Bradley hummed in agreement, siping his beer. 
"How come you never told me you were Star Wars fans?" Mickey accused, "What do you think of the series? Without the last three movies, of course. They don't exist," and he chatted with Bob for a good half hour. 
Bradley cleared his throat to stop the rumbling, "Can we get back to the tattoo topic? We have less than fifteen hours to decide".
After some discussion and a few scribbles of their ideas on some napkins, they settled on three designs that the tattoo artist would be able to work with.
Bob carefully saved the napkins, and one by one the group went home. He decided to take a walk on the beach before he left. 
He liked the silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the waves and the wind. His week had been exhausting and quite stressful, and being here soothed him. The moonlight guided his steps home. As he made his way to his little house, he lit a cigarette. He was not much of a smoker, but every now and then it helped calm his nerves. Truth to be told, he was a little nervous to get tattooed. He wasn’t a big fan of needles. He just hoped that the final design would be simple enough so he didn’t have to stay too long under the hands and tools of the tattoo artist.
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The next day, after a nice lunch together, the group finally went to the tattoo parlor. Josie was with them, even more excited than they were. They walked in, making the little bell above the door ring. Soft rock was playing at a low volume, and some of the artist's work was hanging on the walls. 
Bob looked around curiously. This parlor was nothing like the one he'd been in with his cousin almost twelve years before. Here, the large windows let in daylight, and the reception and waiting areas were beautifully decorated with green plants (though Bob suspected they were fake). On the coffee table across from the couches was a binder containing the flashes that were still available. And on the walls were photos of several finished tattoos and some awards the artist seemed to have won at conventions around the country. The whole atmosphere was comfortable and reassuring. 
"I'll be there in two seconds!"  your voice came from the back of the room. 
The curtain at the back of the shop opened and you stepped out, dusting your hands. Your arms were covered with tattoos of all kinds; some colored, some not. Bob watched you for a moment, impressed by the number of tattoos you had. His eye fell on the one under and on your collarbones; two daffodils with a bee in the middle. He found it gorgeous.
He was jolted out of his contemplation when Josie threw herself in your arms.
"Bee! It's so good to see you!"
"Hello to you too, Jo’ !" you chuckled, returning her hug, "I assume this is the famous Dagger Squad you've been talking about."
You gave them your real name with a smile and shook hands with everyone, "You can call me Bee though, it doesn't bother me!". Your eyes locked with Bob's for a few seconds and he thought he saw you blushing a little. But maybe he had hallucinated.
You offered them some tea or coffee while grabbing your sketchbook and pen. "Okay, so what were your ideas? Jo’ and Reuben here told me you had quite a few," you asked with a smile, and the group began to explain what they had in mind. Bob, sitting in front of you, wasn't listening. He was mesmerized ; you had such a sweet voice and a warm, inviting aura. Your eyes shone with interest behind your glasses as you took notes on what Bob's friends were saying. Your soft smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears blush whenever he made eye contact with you. 
He was drawn out of his contemplation by Bradley, who nudged him discreetly. You had asked him something, but he didn't seem to have heard.
"Sorry, what?"
"Your friends said you had some papers with your ideas. May I see them?" you chuckled with a sweet smile.
"Oh... Oh! The napkins, yes!" he mumbled and took them out of his pocket. He displayed them on the coffee table in front of you. He blushed as your fingers brushed over his, and Josie and Natasha noticed. They looked at each other and wiggled their eyebrows. An idea had blossomed in their minds…
***
A few sketches later, you had a design that everyone in the group loved. It was simple enough that you could make the seven of them that afternoon. While you were getting everything ready, the Daggers argued about who would go after Reuben, who volunteered to go first. But Bob seemed a little lost and couldn't say anything. Josie sighed and intervened, hands on hips, like a mother scolding her children.
"Okay, everybody, calm down. Jake will go second, Mickey third and then Javy."
"But why?" Jake gasped and Mickey pouted.
"Because you three are too afraid, I can feel it. Look at it this way: the sooner you get it done, the sooner it's over."
"Good thinking..." Javy muttered.
"Thank you. Then Natasha, Bradley, and finally Bob. As soon as you're done, go to the little store next door and get yourself a snack, okay?"
The five nodded like children, but Natasha had a little mischievous smile on her lips that matched Josie's. But the boys, except for Reuben, didn't seem to notice. The latter gave his wife a knowing look and shook his head with a smile when she just shrugged.
Bob wasn't sure what to do. He looked at you a few times as you finished cleaning Reuben’s finished tattoo. You laughed with him and Bob blushed. He'd never seen anyone laugh so beautifully. His heart raced a little, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were mesmerizing, a work of art. 
"... Bob?"
"Huh?" he hummed, still lost in contemplation.
"Bobby, stop staring, you're not discreet," Josie giggled and Bob blushed wildly. He looked around and to his relief the others didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. "You know, Bee is single... you should ask her out. You're totally her type."
"Am I?" he mumbled, blushing as Nat and Josie giggled, "I-I mean, I, uh… she’s-" Bob stuttered. He was busted. Natasha wrapped her arm around his and looked at you.
"From what Josie and Reuben have told me, Bee is really sweet," she said.
"She loves sci-fi, has two cats, builds Legos, and she absolutely loves quiet walks on the beach, just like you," Josie informed him with a smile, and Bob's cheeks turned even redder. He watched as you reassured Jake and explained how the machine worked. Your smile definitely made Bob's heart flutter. He wanted it to be directed at him. Not at Jake who was certainly flirting with you… although you didn’t seem that affected by it.
"She's a great girl, Bobby, and yes, I said I'd stop to set you up, but this isn't technically a date. It's up to you if you want to ask her out," Josie argued and he nodded, playing nervously with his fingers.
"I... I'll try?" he murmured, clearly worried about the situation, "but what if you're wrong and I'm not her type? Or what if I make it all awkward? or what if-"
"Calm down Floyd, it'll be fine! She won't reject you like that. Look at her, she's too nice for that. You have the whole afternoon to relax and just be yourself with her. We'll keep the others out," Natasha smiled as she gave him a friendly nudge. He sighed and nodded, trying to keep his composure. But then he frowned and turned to the two women beside him. "That's why you wanted me to go last?"
They just chuckled and shrugged. Bob sighed again and shook his head, "You two are a menace," he groaned.
As the afternoon wore on, Bob had to go out twice to catch his breath. He tried not to smoke right now, but the urge got stronger as his turn to get tattooed approached. He watched you laugh with Bradley as you tattooed him on the inside of his bicep. Then Bradley pointed at Bob and said something to you. You smiled a little and waved to him. He blushed so hard he thought his whole face was on fire. He shyly waved back and thought he saw you blush again. But you quickly turned your attention back to Bradley.
Bob's heart was pounding, he was filling up like a 10-year-old facing his first crush. 
And finally it was his turn. Josie and Natasha managed to get everyone out by pretending to go shopping for dinner - which wasn't exactly a lie. Bob was worriedly silent as you cleaned your station. You turned to him and smiled. 
"Would you like something to drink while I finish preparing the area? I have some ginger ale, Reuben told me you usually like it?"
Bob just nodded, speechless. How can you be so thoughtful? 
He thanked you as you handed him the glass and watched you print the last stencil.
"Nervous?" you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, "Where do you want it?"
"Y-Yeah, a little bit," he swallowed and scratched his neck nervously, "I, uh... maybe here?" he gestured to his ribs, the side that had no tattoos.
"Josie told me you already had a tattoo, right? Do you want them mirrored, like symmetrical?" you asked as he took off his shirt. You blushed. This man was really, really beautiful. His friends were too, you'd seen Jake and Mickey shirtless, but Bob... Bob had this charming boyish face and a body that you could see yourself curling up against in your bed for a cuddle in rainy weather. He had that old American charm with his wire-rimmed glasses, that little curl of hair that fell perfectly on his forehead, and that shy smile. You wanted him to take you out on a date anywhere he wanted and listen to his surprisingly raspy voice talk about absolutely anything... but you had to be professional.
"Yes," he replied, "I think it could be quite harmonious..."
"I think so too," you smiled at him and prepared his skin before placing the stencil. You let him check to see if he liked the placement. He turned to you and his crooked smile made you feel all warm inside. He was absolutely adorable.
"I love it," he said, excited like a little boy on Christmas Eve, "it looks amazing!"
"Well, let's get to work then, Lieutenant!" you chuckled and let him lie down. You put on your gloves and turned on the machine. You saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly; surely to calm his nerves. "Ready?" you asked quietly and he nodded.
He didn't flinch or move once during the session. You saw him grimace from time to time, but he was perfectly still. You tried to talk to him to ease the process without pushing him too hard, and to your own surprise, he was quite talkative. The two of you debated which was the best Lego set you owned - it was obviously the Millenium Falcon. He really made you laugh when he explained how Bradley accidentally broke his glasses and how Josie scolded them for being reckless while playing soccer on the beach. And you both agreed that Reuben and Josie would make great parents. He walked you outside when you said you needed a smoke break.
"I don't smoke that much, I'm trying to quit," you shrugged, "but some days are harder than others."
"Yeah, I get it, I'm not a heavy smoker either, but it helps... relax, I guess," he said, lighting your cigarette and then his. You smiled and agreed. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting, casting orange and pink hues in the sky. Bob blew his smoke slowly through his nose and sighed.
"I love sunsets," he said, "it's always a different color show..."
"I'm sure it's nicer when you're actually in the sky, isn't it?"
"Oh yes it is!" he replied excitedly, "Sometimes with the clouds it's like being surrounded by cotton candy. It's so pretty, but it makes me hungry." 
You laughed and his smile grew wider.
"So you have a sweet tooth?"
"The worst," he sighed with a soft grin, "I think I might be addicted to sugar. I mean, we all are a little, but sweet things are my weakness."
The way he looked at you when he said that made you blush furiously. And he blushed too, surprised at his own behavior. But you didn't seem bothered, so he wasn't embarrassed. You bit your lip and sighed with a smile before looking back at him.
"So if I asked you to come with me to the fair and eat our body weight in candy and cake on Sunday, would you agree?"
"Yes," he blushed, surprised at his own eagerness to accept your proposition. He chuckled and nodded, "I would gladly agree."
"It's a date then..." you smiled and exchanged numbers. Then you resumed your conversation about whatever was on your minds. Bob had never felt so comfortable with anyone, and neither had you. Unfortunately, the rest of the Daggers made their way back to your shop to pay you for the tattoos and take some pictures of them. They were all happy with the results and Mickey promised to come back for more. Bob couldn't stop smiling and looking at you as if you were holding the stars, and neither could you. You said goodbye to everyone, hugged Reuben and Josie - asking their growing baby in her belly to behave - and kissed Bob on the cheek when he last existed. You had to stand on tiptoe to do it, which he found adorable.
"See you Sunday, Bob," you almost whispered.
"Gladly Bee, can't wait," he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
You waved him goodbye and he felt all light and happy on his way to his car.
The rest of the group was completely forgotten, but they were watching from a distance. They were surprised and so lost by what they had just witnessed, except for Nat and Josie who were really proud of their part in it. They discreetly high-fived and giggled.
"What did you do?" Reuben finally asked his wife, curious.
"Me? Nothing," she smiled at him before looking at Bob, who didn't stop smiling. She took her husband's hand on the way to their car and chuckled, "I just encouraged fate."
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