#its a small thing but almost uncharacteristically nice of him when you consider all the wide array of things he WONT humor

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Thoughts on Wigfrid and Wilson's dynamic? Not romantic just, in general

Wilson and Wigfrid to me have an odd, but otherwise cordial relationship. If I'm honest, I do find it incredibly nice that Wilson- who will deny the existence of ghost to the face of a ghost and the existence of magic to the face of a mage- will indulge Wigfrid when it comes to her own religion. And while I don't believe she believes that he believes the words from his own mouth, she appreciates it nonetheless.

Beyond that, I would say they can work together and be friendly with each other when it really comes down to it. Though not without minor criticisms every now and again from Wilson's end, specifically around her diet and other habits that would probably come across as nonsensical at first to someone who tries to base most of his actions in logic.

A fun hc I like to keep surrounding them is that, when they first met, Wigfrid was not partial to Wilson at all. She couldn't believe that this... scrappy, weak willed, socially awkward disjointed mess of a fighter was the one to eradicate her adversary before she did! She found it horribly insulting he would be so bold as to steal her 'kill' from right under her nose, and would deny respecting him for a long while afterward.

However, the more she grew to actually interact with the survivors on a consistent basis (which I like to think took a little bit of time... After grandfathering herself into the belief that warriors work alone, even the biological call of being social can be hard to obey), she eventually found it within her to swallow her pride and drop the subject.

Though if there ever proved to be a confrontation with Charlie it would resurface in the form of leaping directly overtop of him before he could get a chance to steal her spotlight again.

[kirbles]

this was gonna be a flashback in ch2 but its stupid so just have this small thing cuz i like it but doesn't fit any current wips

The ambience of the party was overwhelmingly jovial, raucous laughter carrying across the camp, overtaking the usual serenity of the wilderness they had found themselves in. Music plucked by rusty fingers accompanied the unpractised but merry dancing between inebriated Elturian refugees and his travelling companions. It made for a fine night of celebration, but Astarion was much too trapped in his own head to partake. No, he was after a different kind of entertainment tonight.

The wizard sat beside him, their sides flush together as the two of them passed a bottle of cheap swill back and forth, the dryness of it appealing to the human’s taste buds more than it did the vampire's.

How unfortunate for the little mage that out of everyone in the group, he appealed to Astarion the most. More than any alcohol ever could. He possessed everything he wanted and needed in an ally - power, practicality, and it didn’t hurt that he was nice enough to look at. Rather, it made the art of seduction… easier to stomach, if his marks were at least attractive.

He considered how best to approach the subject, hoping that the wizard wasn’t too far gone so that he couldn’t come to regret his choice in the morning, but a bump to his shoulder interrupted such thoughts.

“Do you dance?” Gale had asked, not sparing him a glance but rather looking on at the celebration longingly. He was smiling, but it was almost forlorn, not quite reaching his eyes.

Astarion scoffed, shifting uncomfortably next to him. “Better than yourself, most likely. Though I admit it has been quite some time since I last indulged.” About two hundred years worth of time, if he was to be pedantic.

Gale could only chuckle at that, not a hint of pity in those dark pools of his; instead glazed over in mirth and insobriety. He made a move to stand, muffling a groan as he shifted onto his knees and eventually his feet. Then Gale stood before Astarion, looking down at him with an amused look, and he held out his hand towards the vampire.

“May I have this dance?” he beamed, outstretched hand beckoning Astarion’s own, an invitation to take it - to celebrate with him.

Astarion's eyes had briefly widened, before he quickly masked it again with a look of faux disinterest. “And make a fool of myself? Please, darling. Let me retain the sliver of self respect that remains.” he retorted half-heartedly, bringing his knees up to hold them against his chest. He made a point to avoid the man’s deep, glassy baby ox eyes, lest he be convinced much too quickly.

Gale was undeterred, however, and merely waited with more patience than Astarion deserved. He swayed slightly in his drunken stupor in time with the music in the background, hand still held out for the elf, confident he would take it. Astarion mistakenly spared him a glance then and, after approximately thirty seconds, gave in with a huff. Damn it all.

“Fine! If only to save you the embarrassment of standing for the rest of the night.” he nipped back, no malice to be found in his words. “But I’m leading.”

He took the wizard’s hand and allowed himself to be assisted up, making sure to dig his heels into the dirt so as to not fall into contact with his companion’s plush chest, being hauled up with an uncharacteristic show of strength from the drunker man.

Gale didn’t seem to notice his blunder, merely squeezing the vampire’s hand and grinning ear to ear. “Of course.” he laughed in good humour, prompting Astarion to roll his eyes and lead the wizard by the hand to the heart of the party, ignoring the discomforting press in his chest as he did so.

It wasn’t exactly the entertainment Astarion had in mind for tonight, but he couldn’t find it in him to be mad about it when Gale’s hand fit oh so perfectly in his.

[rj-drive-in]

Drunk Science Department:

Another in our continuing series of tales of scientists abusing alcohol.

INFINITY MEANS INFINITY © 2023 by Rick Hutchins

By the time I got to Boston, I was nearly frantic. It had been almost a week since Professor George had suddenly stopped posting on our common forums and five days since he had failed to show up for the regular Chat. His online friends had quickly become worried; the professor was as regular as clockwork. As someone who knew him IRL from several meet-ups, it fell to me to track him down, to make sure he was all right. After all, he was not exactly a young man and was as prone to accident or illness as anyone else.

But he did not respond to PMs or emails. He did not pick up the phone or answer voice mails. IMs and texts were equally useless. The mood on the forums began to grow more pessimistic. Of course, it was not unusual for people to lose interest in online chatter and drift away– it happened all the time– but this was uncharacteristic of the professor. We all felt that something was terribly wrong.

As luck would have it, I was to be in Washington on business the following week, so it was no trouble to leave a couple of days early and insert a layover at Logan into my itinerary. The professor had hosted one of our meet-ups, a mere eighteen months earlier, at a cookout on his property, so I knew exactly where he lived. It was a nice old home in Ipswich, less than an hour north of the airport by car. He lived alone.

My flight was late in arriving, as usual, but my rented car was waiting for me and I headed out without delay. Needless to say, throughout the trip I continued my attempts to contact him by all the usual means, but he remained as silent as ever.

When I pulled into his driveway about three oclock in the afternoon, his car was parked there and his house showed no outward signs of trouble. It was a two-storey home, more than a century old, weather-worn from the ocean and gray as a summer storm, but well kept up, its small, grassy yard ringed by high hedges. I walked up to the side door on the open porch that we had used during the meet-up and rang the doorbell. When there was no response, I opened the screen door and knocked on the glass window of the inner door.

For ten minutes I continued ringing and knocking, my knuckles rapping louder and louder with each attempt. I alternated back and forth between the glass and the wood, not sure which was louder; I began to fear the old glass would shatter. But nobody answered and there were no sounds from within.

I took a deep breath and considered calling the police. In my mind’s eye, I saw the professor lying dead on the floor of his lab, having been stricken by a sudden heart attack or aneurysm; or twisted and broken at the foot of the stairs or in the bathtub, having tripped or slipped. The sensible thing to do would have been to call the police, but in my heart of hearts I am the same as everyone else– a coward afraid of making a fool of himself.

So I tried the doorknob.

It opened. The door was unlocked. God help me, I thought. I was committed.

A kind of anxious fog engulfed me, a slow and surreal haze of fear, as I entered the man’s house uninvited. “Professor?” I called softly. Then more loudly, “Professor George? Are you home? It’s me, MandelbrotFan, from GalacticBBS.”

There was no answer. The side door opened into his kitchen. There was no overt sign of trouble. Plenty of dirty dishes in the sink, an unwashed frying pan on the stove and a green rubber trash barrel on the verge of overflowing were normal for someone living alone. There was a small pile of unopened mail and a newspaper on the kitchen table. The date on the newspaper was the day before, giving me my first cause for optimism.

I moved into the living room area, separated from the kitchen only by a stained-wood countertop, and toward the door leading to the basement. The basement was where the professor kept his workshop and that was where he spent most of his time, working on his invention. That was where I was most likely to find him.

The door was ajar– it was the old kind with a brass knob and a lock compatible with a skeleton key– and creaked softly when I pushed it open. I stood at the top of the old wooden stairs, homemade by a previous owner decades in the past, and was relieved to see the yellow glow of artificial light down there from off to the left.

“Professor?” I called again. “Professor George? Are you home? It’s your friend, MandelbrotFan, from GalacticBBS.”

There was no reply.

Taking a deep breath, I went down the stairs and made the hairpin turn at the bottom to face the back of the basement, the large area away from the furnace that the professor had turned into his workshop. It was much as I remembered it from my previous visit. Shelves of tools and parts against two walls, an old rumbling refrigerator, work lights hanging from hooks in the ceiling, black and orange extension cords and surge suppressors in a tangled web on the floor, the old couch and coffee table off to the side– and, of course, taking up the most space, the professor’s invention.

The couch was situated at an angle, its back toward me, so it was a moment before I saw that the professor was sitting in it, his legs stretched out with his feet propped on the coffee table. My heart surged for a moment, then was gripped by an icy fist of fear when I realized he wasn’t moving.

“Professor?” I said, but my voice came out as a whisper. I cleared my throat and then tried again, more loudly. “Professor? Professor, are you all right? It’s me, MandelbrotFan from GalacticBBS.”

For a second that seemed to stretch on forever, nothing happened. Then he stirred and pushed himself up, turning his head toward me over the back of the couch. Even in that first moment, I could tell that his face had become more lined, that his long hair and beard and mustache had grown more gray. He pushed his thick glasses up on his nose and peered at me, blinking, as if he had just woken up.

“Mandelbrot? Is that you?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“We were all worried about you, Prof,” I said. Prof is the username that the professor is known by on all the science forums. “Nobody has heard from you in a week and you haven’t answered any messages.”

“A week,” he said slowly. “Has it been that long?”

Until now, I had remained standing at the foot of the stairway, but now I began to move cautiously forward. “Yes,” I replied. “We were afraid something had happened to you. What have you been doing?”

He gestured toward his invention with his right hand, and I saw that he was holding a half-empty bottle of liquor.

“My life’s work,” he said bitterly.

His invention– his life’s work– bore a vague resemblance to the time machine in the old George Pal movie. Okay, very vague. It looked more like a stationary exercise bike hooked up to a couple of gutted and re-purposed PCs and a 60s-era Hi Fi system. There was also a pegboard with a jumble of soldered wires and a dozen vacuum tubes. On one side of the machine there was a bank of six car batteries in series arrangement and on the other side another bank of four car batteries in parallel arrangement. On the handlebars were strapped an iPad, with the back pulled off, and a couple of controllers that looked like they came from an Xbox, all wired into the gutted PCs.

“The Dimensional Traveler?” I asked. “What’s wrong? Did it fail?” A generous question, since nobody really believed it had a chance of working.

“No,” he replied, with a laugh that sounded more like a choke. “It works. It works exactly as predicted, down to the last decimal place.” He sniffed and took a swig from the bottle and I realized belatedly that he was dead drunk.

I strayed casually across the basement to the machine and looked it over. It was humming quietly with power, but seemed to be in standby mode. The iPad screen was on and displayed a homemade status panel. The current location box said “37,132.”

Turning to face him, I almost cringed. He looked terrible. I took a couple of steps closer to him and held out my hand for the bottle, which he handed over without argument. I took a small drink and held onto it. Maybe he’d let me keep it away from him.

“Then what’s wrong?” I asked. “Obviously something didn’t go as planned. You’re not exactly celebrating.”

“It’s infinity out there,” he said quietly, with a shake of his head.

“Yeah,” I said. “An infinity of parallel universes. Alternate dimensions each just a little bit different from the last.” At first, in the nearby dimensions, the differences might not even be noticeable, but the effect would get more pronounced the farther you went– a different president in the White House, a different outcome to World War II, or maybe Rome never fell or dinosaurs still existed. You might be rich or poor or famous or even dead. If the theory was correct, all possible universes existed.

“You don’t get it!” he grumbled. “But I didn’t get it either. Infinity means infinity. The universes aren’t just parallel, they’re adjacent. They’re sequential. You can’t get from point A to point C without going through point B. You can’t go from level one to level ten without crossing the intervening eight.”

“But what difference does it make? You predicted that, right? You said there is no quantum interval of time between the dimensions. What did you call them? The Branes? It takes literally no time to get from one to another. The only passage of time is what you spend in a particular world, and that can be a fraction of a second.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It would probably only take an hour or two for me to get home.”

“Home from where?”

Another bitter laugh. “Here.”

That’s when the first chill of real horror began to creep down my spine. “You mean…?” I fumbled for the right words, the politically correct phrasing for what I was trying to ask. “You mean you’re not ‘my’ Professor George.”

He looked me in the eye then and smiled for the first time– I think he meant it to be comforting. “No. No, I’m not. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“It doesn’t matter at all,” he said.

“Where is he?”

“You saw the display,” the man on the couch responded. “He’s 37, 132 worlds away.”

A chill down my spine, an icy fist around my heart, flesh crawling, a wave of vertigo, a lump in my throat– you name the cliche, I had it. “Seriously, enough of this,” I said desperately. “Explain to me what’s going on. What’s happening? What did you see out there? Is my friend alive or dead?”

“Alive! Oh, he’s fine. If I’m okay, he’s okay. He might even come back. Not that it makes any difference.”

“Enough with the riddles! Please, explain!”

“All right,” he said. “Sorry. I’m drunk. I didn’t mean to be.” He sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at me sadly. “Infinity means infinity. It really does. And the Branes, the dimensions, they’re adjacent, they fan out. You can’t cut in line. All possible universes exist. And even a fraction, the tiniest fraction, of infinity is still infinity. Do you understand yet? An infinity of all possible universes means an infinity of universes just like this one!”

[mxchellesworld]

Discuss!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out

Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 

a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!

***

Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 

Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 

Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 

Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 

You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 

“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 

Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 

“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 

“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 

The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 

“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 

He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 

“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 

“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 

“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 

You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 

That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 

You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 

Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 

Got him.

“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 

As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 

For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 

The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 

You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 

“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 

As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 

You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 

Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 

“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 

“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 

“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 

“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 

As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-

“Y/n?” 

The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 

His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 

“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 

“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 

You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 

As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 

You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”

Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 

“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 

“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 

“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 

His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 

“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 

The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 

You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 

“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”

“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 

Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 

“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 

“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 

“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 

“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 

The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 

You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 

You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”

He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 

For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 

Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 

You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 

“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”

“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 

“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 

Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 

“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”

His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 

You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 

The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 

Then a sad look came across his face. 

“Spencer what’s wrong?” 

“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 

“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.

He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 

“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 

[aetheternity]

Can I have your number?

Synopsis: Armin’s always being asked by shy pretty girls for Eren’s number at parties to the point where when you ask for his number he doesn’t know how to respond. (Italicized words are Armin’s thoughts.)

“Why me?” Armin shrugs his cotton blue hoodie off his shoulders. Fingers grazing over the zipper in earnest contemplation. “Why don’t they ever just go right to him?” 

“I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, Armin.” Connie begins, finger tracing over the rim of his partially empty glass. “Well actually I’m not. You’re the approachable friend because Eren is so tall and sexy; and you’re puppy cute.” 

“Puppy cute.” Armin spits, eyes uncharacteristically narrowing. 

Sasha plucks the glass from Connie’s hand, “That’s enough outta you.” She huffs pulling the drink far from Connie’s reach. “Sorry Armin, it’s just cause he’s drunk.” 

“But he isn’t wrong.” He replies, Sasha sighs transitioning Connie’s glass to her free hand. She tilts her head apologetically. “He isn’t wrong.” Armin repeats, rolling his eyes. 

Just as he reaches for the glass he can’t stop nursing tonight; a tap on his shoulder stops him. “Hey um..” The girl in front of him is the same as the rest. Gorgeous. Small build fitted out in a white crop top and blue skirt like she was meant to perfectly match with Armin. Her hair was short barely making it to the nape of her neck. She shifted her weight back and forth as she looked up at Armin with pinked cheeks. 

“I really hate to bother you with this..” Then don’t. “Uh..” She steps back so Armin can look out at all the loud party goers and their raucous chatter. “You’re friends with him right?” 

Through the sea of people she manages to point right at Jean. His black vest over a brown tee shirt surprisingly easy to pinpoint as he chatted away with a couple of other guys. His black fingers nails lightly tapping the edges of his glass as he laughed away without a care in the world. Loose hairs of his mullet pulled back with two black hair pins while the rest of his hair was perfectly gelled. 

“Yeah.” Armin replied with a small roll of his eyes. 

“Do you think maybe.. I can have his number?” 

Armin suppresses the urge to snort. “Do you have a pen?” He asks

Sasha ends up being the one that hands one to him and he quickly scribbles Jean’s number onto a piece of paper. He hands it over and she responds with a quick, ‘thank you’ taking her leave as quickly as possible. 

“Woah.. Forgot how bitchy you can be when you’ve had a few.” Sasha giggles though unlike the girl from before Armin’s glare does nothing to sway her. 

“Did I forget to mention sometimes Jean’s girls come to me too?” He sighed

Connie had managed to grab a new glass while Sasha had fallen distracted. He lifted a bottle of vodka over the edge of the counter top, sloppily pouring a bit of it over his hand and onto the table before properly settling into an easy rhythm. 

“No more! I’m serious Connie, you’ve had enough and you’re starting to get vulgar.” She snatched the glass just before he could drink from it, pushing it far away from his grasp. 

“You bitch I have not!” He argues, it takes a second for him to register from the wide eyed expressions surrounding him just how loud and crass he’d been. “Alright I’m sorry.. please take me home.” 

Sasha nods, slapping Connie’s back as she inches him off the stool and to his feet, “Hey I know you’re tired of taking messages tonight but could you maybe..”

“Tell Jean you’re taking Connie home? Sure why the fuck not?” 

Armin sighs wrapping his hand around his own glass before it’s snatched from his palm, “You’ve had enough to.” Sasha points “Don’t you dare have another sip tonight.” And with that she’s stumbling through the crowd with Connie’s arm perched over her shoulder. 

When Armin stands he almost knocks the chair over. I didn’t think I had that much.. He thinks. He yanks his hoodie from where it’s drooping through the empty back of the chair, pushing the furniture back up when it falls on him. And when he’s properly standing he takes a deep breath, staggering toward the direction the girl from before had pointed in. 

Despite how dirty it is and his knowledge of such he rests his pounding skull down on the table upon arrival. The cool wood soothing his overly warm skin. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jean asks as Armin exhales gingerly 

“Shut up.” He mutters 

‘Too much bourbon I see.” Jean replies 

Armin hates it. Hates this party. Hates the noise. Hates how Jean’s nails feel so good running through his sweaty blond hair. 

“Come on, talk to me.” 

“Girls think I’m the approachable friend.” Armin replies, standing up straight using the table in front of him for support. 

“Well yeah.” Jean nods “I know but that’s just cause they don’t understand how cute, nice and charming you actually are. Those girls are missing out going to Eren when the real heartthrob is right in front of them.” 

Armin snorts, “You need to stop drinking.” 

“I figured right after I called you cute.” Jean slides his glass away turning his attention back to Armin. “ But I wasn’t lying.” 

Armin shoots up, finger out towards Jean. “At least eight girls in the three hours we’ve been here have asked about Eren. Two asked about you.” 

“Do you know the names of my two?” 

“I think it was, I don’t know and the second was I don’t care.” 

“Ouch.” Jean pressed a finger to his lip, the black nail polish accented in the strobe lighting. He pressed his chin into his palm leaning in closer to Armin. “Have you ever considered changing your hair? Maybe growing it out or cutting it more?” 

“No I-” 

The terrible clatter of glasses shook Armin and Jean from their conversation. Three girls all of whom were laughing at nothing now standing in front of them. “Hey!” One greeted 

“Hello ladies.” Jean replied back while Armin gritted his teeth. 

The girl farthest away snorted, gesturing with her hands to the girl who had spoken up to begin with. “So my friends-” She quickly slapped the third girl on the back who instantly began giggling again. “I’m sorry.” 

Jean just nodded glancing at an unamused Armin. 

“You know him right?” The first girl tried immediately covering her mouth as though she’d said something completely foul. She pointed across the room at Eren who seemed completely unresponsive to a one sided conversation with a random girl. 

“Starting to wish I didn’t..” 

“Huh?!” Yelled the third girl 

“No, no..” The second girl began “It’s just cause these two like him.” The entire gaggle burst into loud giggles. All three of them pushing their hair away from their eyes and bouncing around like small children. 

When the agitating screeching died down the second girl added “We wanna see who he likes best.” She finished 

“Is he seeing anyone?” The first girl chimed in

“Not that I know of.” Armin answered 

“Do you have his number?” The third girl asked 

“I have it.” Jean responded before Armin could even create the sentence in his head. 

Jean promptly jotted the number down giving it to the first girl who didn’t hesitate in snatching it from his hand and heading off. The second girl behind her soon followed by the only one from the group that didn’t leave their manners at home. The third girl smiling with an appreciative farewell. 

Jean made a small noise in his throat, turning back to Armin with the nail of his thumb pressed under his teeth. “Maybe you should go home?.. You know what I’ll leave with you.” 

“Jean, no offense but I don’t want pity.” 

“When do you think Eren is gonna wanna leave?” 

“I don’t know.” He huffed “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” 

He didn’t wait for Jean’s reply just grabbed his once discarded hoodie and headed through the mess of drunk partygoers towards the bathroom. He didn’t even need to actually use it. Just wanted to be out of sight of all the stupid drunk girls vying for Eren’s affections. Not even realizing that tissue has touched Eren longer than any of them will. 

The bathroom door was closed and maybe that was a good thing because it wasn’t extremely likely that Armin wouldn’t stay in there for a couple hours after the night he’s endured. He lets out a long exhale hunting around for his phone. Blond hair sticking up as he slumps against the wall. 

“Um hey.” Armin doesn’t even bother to look up. “Is someone in there?” 

“Yup.” He grunts 

Armin notes the slight shift in the person in front of him. He looks up completely unsurprised by the fleeting glance, the hands crossed behind their back and head bowed. 

“Ok.” The girl begins but by this point Armin’s attention is redirected to his phone  “My name is Y/N, I wanted to ask you if maybe I could have your number?” 

Armin blinks expression completely unchanged as she hands over her phone. He lets his eyes roll around in his head taking the device and robotically typing in Eren’s number in contacts. When he gives it back to her she lets out a little squeak of excitement. 

“I’ll call you!” She calls before running off 

Wait..  Gears turn like clockwork in his brain. Slowly but surely the situation dawns on him. His number???? Did a girl? Particularly one as cute as her ask for his number?? 

Granted he’d only seen her for a couple seconds but she was most certainly the most put together girl that had approached him tonight. Clothes neat and tidy. No flopping around like a fish out of water at any point during the conversation. Hair done in a ponytail that wasn’t begging for release from its confines. 

And he’d given her Eren’s number.. 

Shit! 

Safe to say Armin bolted. Back down the hall, leaping up to search over the crowding heads all around. Successfully getting weird stares but that was beyond his problems at the moment. Once he’d decided that she wasn’t anywhere around he sprinted through out the door and towards the stairs. 

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” He called, hearing the sound of footsteps. 

His heart collided with his ribcage, loud stomps ensuing as he sprinted around the bend at the bottom of the staircase. She was in his sights, her head turning and eyes making contact with his and just as soon his foot slipped. Body colliding with the first stair, then the second and so on till he’d successfully finished rolling down the entire flight. Slamming into the wall with a hard thud. 

“Oh my god Armin!” She settled onto her knees, reaching out for his face. Delicate palms brushing over his sore cheeks. “Are you ok? Never mind, stupid question, let me call an ambulance.” 

Blond lashes slowly fluttered close then open as she moved to pull her phone from her pocket. “Before you do.” Armin panted still working to catch his breath. “Can I give you my number? For real this time?”  

Ok so this is unedited because I think writers block is trying to take me and I’m trying my hardest to keep it at bay. I have like 5 things in the works at the moment so I really don’t need that.       

[yamigooops]

soft mornings

pairing: established poly!oikawa x gn!reader x iwaizumi genre: fluff that will rot your teeth out words: 1.5k summary: mornings aren’t your favorite, but the two of them make it better

masterlist here

it was too bright, the sunlight hit you directly in the face, and you wanted to snuff it out. who forgot to close the curtains last night? you would have to chew one of them out later, but you were too tired to even think about it right now. you lay against oikawa’s side, his skin warm against your cheek and his arm positioned beneath your head. the hot weight atop your chest was iwaizumi, his chest flush against yours and arms wrapped tightly around your waist. his hair tickled your chin, and your legs were tangled in the sheets with both of theirs.

waking up like this wasn’t so bad, wrapped up and safe in the arms of your lovers. you just wished the sun didn’t insist on ruining your sweet sleep. you tried your best to return to the land of dreams, but no matter how hard you tried, you were too focused on the way iwaizumi’s fingers felt splayed against your back, or the way oikawa breathed in deep, slow breaths. giving in to wakefulness, you cracked open your eyes, squinting at the bright light of late morning.

you tried not to move too fast so as not to wake the men beside and on top of you, but you allowed yourself to look up at oikawa’s sleeping face. his eyes were soft, hair uncharacteristically tousled and his face smoothed by his unconscious state. your hand came up to his clothed hip to rub small circles against the soft fabric of his pajama pants. you watched his chest as it rose and fell in a lulling rhythm, and you turned your head slightly to press a gentle kiss to his skin before turning to the man atop you.

he had a rough day yesterday, one of his athletes had gotten hurt and he accompanied them to the hospital. so when he came home, he was bone tired, a bit cranky, and as tense as a steel pole. all signs of that tension were gone now, the lines of his normally tense back made soft by sleep. you ran your fingers along his spine, the contact raising unconscious goosebumps along his skin.

you stayed like this for several minutes, reveling in the peace brought on by the sound of their breathing and the feeling of their bodies against yours. after a little while, you heard oikawa’s breathing pick up as he woke. you looked up at him and watched his body shuffle around, wanting to be the first thing he would see when he opened his eyes.

and you were. his chocolate eyes cracked open, focusing after a moment on the person against him. a smile cut his features, soft as a feather and a million times more beautiful. “what a beautiful thing to wake up to,” he whispered, hand coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “my two favorite people in the whole world, right there next to me.”

you let out a small chuckle through your nose, your hand continuing its rhythm against his hip. he raised his arm above his head as he stretched like a cat with a yawn to match. you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to his stomach, drinking in the sight of his flexed muscles disappearing down under the sheets.

“how’d you sleep love?” he shifted onto his side, arm still cradling your head and other hand brushing the hair from your face. he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he moved his free hand down to run his long fingers through iwaizumi’s hair.

“slept well, ‘kawa,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and repositioning your head to nestle it back into his shoulder. “how bout you?”

“like a rock,” he chuckled softly. as he did, the man atop your chest began to shift. his fingers moved against your back, and you knew iwaizumi was waking.

“mornin’ sleepy head,” you cooed, pressing your lips against his hair and bringing your hand from his back to caress his cheek. he grumbled in response, maintaining his position against you and shifting his legs. it was so unlike him to sleep in like this, and you thanked the fact that it was the weekend because it gave you the chance to wake up to both of your boys.

“oh, c’mon that’s no way to greet the loves of your life,” oikawa teased, fingers moving down to grab iwa’s nose playfully. the other man grumbled, swatting at the brunette’s hand.

“oh, shut up, sleepykawa,” he mumbled, turning his head slightly to press his lips against your chest. you felt yourself flush slightly, a small sigh slipping from your lips as he gripped your hip firmly. He moved so his face was turned towards you, chin resting against his arms which he brought up to cross against your chest, and green eyes sparkling at the sight of you. “morning babe,” he smiled softly.

you felt your heart swell in your chest, the love you felt making your skin flush and your head spin. being between the two men was always a little overwhelming, especially when both of their attentions were on you as they were now. both pairs of eyes were on you, both pairs of hands were on you, both pairs of lips were peppering your skin with gentle morning kisses. It was enough to make you melt right then and there.

“you both look so pretty when you sleep,” you murmured, leaning down to press your lips gently against iwaizumi’s. they were warm against your own, and just the slightest bit chapped from his time asleep. you pulled away before you got too lost in the taste of him. There was another pair of lips that needed your attention after all.

“what are you talking about, i’m always pretty.” oikawa had the gall to sound scandalized, pressing his hand dramatically against his chest to emphasize the point.

“of course you are, you big baby,” grumbled iwa, reaching over to grasp oikawa’s hand on his own. “it’s just that you’re even prettier when you aren’t talking.”

this earned a chuckle from both you and the man to your side. You reached up to press your lips to his, savoring the feel of them as you had iwaizumi’s. you never wanted to get out of this bed, not for a million dollars. the silkiness of the sheets and the heat of their skin was intoxicating, and you couldn’t imagine a more comfortable situation.

you felt iwa shift as he looked over at the clock on the bedside table. he groaned softly, turning back to the two of you with a disappointed look in his eyes. “it’s almost 11.”

“so what, i don’t have anywhere to be today,” you brushed him off, kissing his forehead gently.

“neither do i,” grinned oikawa. “we get to spend the whole day together so let’s just stay in bed for a while longer.”

“yeah, well, i have to be at the gym by 12:30, so unfortunately i’m going to have to get up,” iwa sighed. he pushed himself up onto his knees with a grunt, stretching his arms above his head. again, you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down his chest to the edge of the briefs he wore. you still couldn’t believe how you’d scored two men so beautiful; it truly boggled your mind sometimes.

“nooo~,” you whined, placing your hand on his thigh in protest. he simply rolled his eyes before leaning over you to greet oikawa with a kiss.

“good morning, prettykawa,” he whispered against the other man’s lips. oikawa broke into a giddy smile, wrapping his free hand behind iwa’s neck to bring him back down for another kiss. you smiled at the two of them, knowing just how lucky you were to have them.

pulling back, iwaizumi rocked back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes to rid them of any left over sleep. “i’m gonna go shower, you guys should join me,” he grinned down at the two of you. You thought it over, considering it but not sure if you wanted to get out of bed just yet. but a shower did sound nice, especially since it would be in your large shower which fit the three of you comfortably. the waterfall shower head would feel so nice against your tired skin. but was it worth getting out of the comfort of the bed and oikawa’s arms?

iwaizumi placed his hand against your cheek, leaning down so you could look nowhere but his face. “I’ll wash your hair for you,” he whispered, knowing how much you loved that. you nearly broke then and there, but the comfort still called to you.

“and I’ll wash all the rest,” purred oikawa in your ear, nearly making you jump. his free arm snaked around your waist and he squeezed gently.

looks like you weren’t staying in bed after all.

consider buying me a coffee for exclusive writing

[reidjumpers]

Here Comes the Sun: Blue and Pink

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning/Includes: mention of eating, foods.

Series Summary: A journey of going through parenthood with Spencer.

Chapter Summary: In which you find the gender of your baby

Note: dad!spencer is a dear concept to me. I try to make sure all of the chapter could be read as a stand alone, but if you squint you can tell there's a string of connections to previous chapters. Enjoy!

previous chapter, next chapter, series masterlist

“What do you think about a gender reveal party?”

You stopped in your tracks as Penelope thought out loud. You rolled your chair to face her, and immediately your face scrunched up as you noticed the content displayed on her screen. It wasn’t work, or anything tech related that sometimes made your head a little fuzzy, it was a mood board filled with gender reveal party ideas.

Throughout your pregnancy, you have found yourself burrowed in Penelope’s lair more often than not. She was more than welcoming, all happy to have someone accompany her in her safe space. She even made an effort to make you feel comfortable, go all board to put all soft and fuzzy things to soothe your aching back and swollen feet. You had been crying for thirty minutes straight when she first presented it to you.

You liked it here a lot. The room is always at the right temperature that didn’t leave you shivering or grumpy with heat. But most of all, it smells really nice, and as much as you’d love to be in your desk and your own element, you couldn’t handle the wafting smell of everyone’s perfume in the air. You once lashed out at Morgan for having the audacity to wear his perfume that he had been wearing for years, and then proceed to cry for an hour profusely apologizing while he laughed his ass off.

“Gender reveal?” you hummed, not knowing what you feel with the idea. Your hand absentmindedly made its way to your bump, now more visible than ever, and you’re both delighted and terrified about it.

“Look at this!” Penelope eagerly made a gesture towards her computer screen. She scrolled slowly through all the well-put mood boards. You cocked an eyebrow at it, knowing fully she probably had spent weeks planning before even asking your opinion. “It’s cute, isn’t it? All fuzzy, blue and pink! So many cakes and happiness radiating from it all.”

“How long have you been planning for all of these, Pen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Three weeks? Four weeks?”

“Ugh!” she grunted, a pout appearing on her lips as she sent you a heatless glare. You pressed your lips together to bit back a triumph smile, proud of your achievement to be able to crack her up. “Fine! Three weeks.”

You snorted a laugh, “Thought so.”

“I hate profilers,” Penelope huffed. She pressed a key on her keyboard to reveal more pictures of her mood board. “So? What do you think?”

“I don’t know, I have to talk about it with Spencer.”

“Talk about what?” a voice appeared behind you nearly startled you to death. You whipped your head towards the source of sound, smiling when you caught the sight of your husband standing in the doorway.

Spencer quietly made his way to you, pressing a chaste kiss on your hairline as he gently placed your lunch on the desk. It had been a routine in the past four months that he would make his way to Penelope’s office during lunchtime, bringing food for three of you and he joined you and Penelope devouring lunch in her office.

“Lovely Boy Wonder! You always have the most perfect timing,” Penelope basically beamed at the sight of Spencer. He furrowed his eyebrows confusedly, but from years of befriending her, Spencer had learned not to question too many things about her. “What do you think about a gender reveal party?”

“Gender reveal party?” Spencer pulled his designated chair, the one that Penelope provided just for him to eat lunches. He scooted his chair close to you, hand absentmindedly finding its way to yours.

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know…” Spencer muttered, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. He eyed the mood board displayed proudly on Penelope’s screen carefully, examining each picture. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

Penelope gasped, “Dr. Reid! I am honestly offended that you didn’t consider Penelope Garcia will handle everything and you and Lady Reid don’t have to lift a single finger!”

Now that caught your attention. “We don’t have to lift a single finger?”

“All you have to do is sit down and the next thing you know, we’re all huddled together in a happy space full of love.”

You glanced towards Spencer who shared the same look with yours. He shrugged and a small smile settled on his face, entrusting the decision fully into your hand. You pucker your lips, weighing all the pros and cons about throwing a party.

“Come on!” Penelope whined. “We see horror and gore almost every day. We need a sweet reminder of everything good in the world. It’s nice to have something good to look forward to.”

You glanced at Spencer once again who subtly nodded. “Okay. Make it small and private.”

“Yes!” Penelope squealed, startled both you and Spencer. “I love you both so much.”

***

The whole idea of preparing a gender reveal party alone made you tired, but one trip for your check up changed everything. Penelope joined you and Spencer for your routine check up, tearing up when the sound of your baby’s heartbeat echoed. At this point you would have thought you’d get used to hearing their heartbeat, but it had never lost its magic.

Penelope practically vibrated with excitement and squealing when the doctor slyly slid your ultrasound photo and the gender of the baby to her, wrapped in a cute envelope. Spencer tried to take a peek, but Penelope was quick to swat him away.

“Do you think we’re having a boy or a girl?” Spencer thought out loud. You glanced up from your book to meet him staring at you, a solemn expression painted on his face.

“Can’t wait until the weekend, can you?” you teased, eyes fell back into the string of words in your book again.

You felt his hand rubbing your feet, his fingers dutifully untangle all the tangled knots that made you sore. You let out a satisfied sigh, shifting slightly on your seat to positioned your feet better on his lap. You really started to think you were probably the luckiest pregnant wife in the whole wide world with a husband like him.

Spencer sighed. “I think we’re having a boy.”

“You think?” you turned the page on your book, already feeling your focus shifting fully into the conversation now. “I’d say we’re having a girl.”

“I’ll tell you what, if we turn out to have a girl, I’ll buy you that handbag you’ve been eyeing on in the past two weeks. And if we turn out to have a boy, you’ll tell me how you cheat on every single UNO game we have.”

You snorted a laugh. Spencer must have noticed you stopped reading minutes ago, for the way he wasn’t unfazed when you lowered down your book and stared at him with a questioning look. He shot you a challenging smirk, with one eyebrow shot up into his hairline.

“Spencer Reid, are you really betting on our children?” you hit his arm playfully with your book. He feigned a pain, frowning as he rubbed the sore spot where you hit him. “I love you, but there is no way in hell I’ll tell you how I play UNO.”

“Ha! So you admit you do cheat!”

“No I didn’t! I never said that!”

“Your words do imply otherwise. So you do cheat!”

“I don’t cheat! I am just really good at what I do!”

Spencer scrunched his nose, not exactly buying your words. “Morgan and Emily also think you do cheat, hon.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of their name. Of course they would conspire with your husband about your amazing ability of kicking everyone’s asses in UNO. You pulled your book back into your line of sight, tried your best to pick up where you left off. “Just accept the fact that UNO and Mario Kart is my expertise, babe. And a magician never reveals their secret.”

Spencer squinted his eyes at you for using his words against him. You lifted your book up slightly to conceal your growing smile, doing your best to ignore his burning stares. Spencer shifted slightly on his seat, his hand ghosted just above your ankle.

“I beat you in Mario Kart already,” Spencer said smugly. His voice was soft, and if it wasn’t so quiet, you were sure you would miss it.

“It was one time!” you groaned. “Once, babe, once.”

Spencer laughed. “You’re just bitter I beat you up with Baby Peach in Rainbow Road.”

You sighed through your nose, pouting as he rubbed about your defeat a year ago that you were still slightly bitter about to your face. You had no idea how he managed to beat you in Mario Kart using Baby Peach out of all things, in Rainbow Road out of any places.

“Honestly, how did you do that?”

Spencer beamed up at the question. You regret asking once your eyes caught the look on his face almost immediately, already knowing the answer he was about to say before it left his mouth. He leaned closer, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “A magician never reveals their secret, sweetheart.”

***

“Garcia is one amazing crazy bitch, isn’t she?” Emily nudged your shoulder. She took a sip towards her drink, her eyes scanning through the room. “How the hell she managed to take care of this party alone, I have no idea.”

Penelope had outdone herself. But then again, she always managed to break her own records after records breezly like it was nothing. Rossi was more than happy to provide his backyard to host the small party. Penelope managed to turn it into the most colorful and cutest gender reveal venue you’ve ever seen.

You just snorted, turned around to steal a slice of cake from Emily’s hand. She groaned at you, but didn’t do a thing as you shove it into your mouth. “Once she has a goal, she’ll do everything in her power to achieve that one goal, Em. You know that.”

Emily grinned, raising her glass slightly. “Do you think it’s a girl or a boy?”

You hummed. “Honestly? I don’t know. But something tells me it’s a girl.”

“Good,” Emily grinned. She jerked her chin towards the direction where Spencer was sitting together with Jack and Henry, a big amused smile on his face as he showcased his newest magic trick. “JJ already has two boys, Hotch has Jack, I think it’ll be nice to have a cute little girl into our family.”

Your eyes settled on Spencer once again. A loud squeal and delighted laughter rang throughout the walls as Spencer pulled a string of cards from Jack’s ear. “We’ll see.”

The party had been, much to your delight, a beautiful one. It was a spur moment of excitement and laughter, Penelope had made sure to make everyone comfortable and happy. The small game she had creatively come out with had been nothing but fun. You nearly fell from your chair laughing as you watch Morgan and Hotch doing their best to put a pen into a bottle blindfolded.

Everyone was here for one thing, and you watched the atmosphere shift from excitement to anticipation and suspense as JJ placed the cake into the table almost immediately. You bite your lip, somehow nervous at the prospect of knowing the gender of your unborn baby and reveal it in front of your friends and families.

Spencer wasn’t doing any better either, he was visibly jittery. You squeezed his hand gently once. Two times. Three times. Sending him all the wordless immense love you hoard for him, and a reminder that you were there with him. A small smile appeared on his face and he squeezed your hand a little firmer than you did, before he lifted it up to plant a soft kiss against your knuckle.

“Okay! When I reach three, you’ll cut the cake!” Penelope instructed. “If anyone would love to record this very magical moment, I advise your camera is ready by now.”

You chuckled, glancing up from the blue and pink cake in front of you. You saw Rossi already recorded the whole thing.

“One!”

You gently gripped the knife, feeling Spencer’s hand covered your hand warmly. He sent you a nervous smile as he adjusted his hands, his fingers settled in between yours seamlessly.

“Two!”

Spencer gently guided your hand to place the knife just right above the cake. You held your breath, feeling your heart trumped inside your chest loudly.

“Three!”

Spencer a little too eagerly cut the cake, almost forgot that he squeezed your hand underneath his a little too tight. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you finally saw the inside of the cake, and Spencer was stopped in his track as he gawked at the cake.

“It’s a girl…” Spencer whispered, like he couldn’t believe what he saw. He blinked and took a sharp inhale, feeling the reality settling in a lot better. “It’s a girl!” He then pulled you into a chaste kiss, his lips pressing into yours raked with love and happiness that you couldn’t help but to smile.

“A girl!” Derek hollered from his spot, already made his way to steal Spencer away from your embrace and pulled him into a hug. Everyone followed not so long after, and you could feel Emily pulled you into a hug, followed by JJ, and then Penelope trapped you in the middle.

“Aw,” you heard Penelope cooed. You didn’t realize there were tears streaming down your face until you could feel her thumb gently wiped it away from your face. “Don’t cry!”

You just laugh, pulling your girl friends into another round of hug. Emily let out a soft chuckle, and muttered something about having a new member to your sacred girl’s night out. You didn’t say anything, but feeling a smile growing on your lips at the thought of having a little girl following you in tow during your night out.

=======================================

series tag list:

@measure-in-pain @wooya1224 @reidemandweep @manuosorioh @jswessie187 @starrfruit

[n0bamak1s]

laughing gas - mai zenin x reader

request: “Mai Zenin x Fem S/o, where the s/o gets their wisdom tooth removed and confesses their love to mai acting all sweet and cute, mai then takes care of her s/o and confesses too, we can see mai being her bratty and confident self but when she is with her s/o she just lets her walls down” - @shockfirefly

summary: in the request! (genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slice of life, humor)

warnings: reader is high on anesthesia if that counts as a warning, swearing, mostly just tooth rotting fluff (literally!!)

word count: 2k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this request! at this point i’m basically just a mai zenin stan account tbh but the requests for her are just so fun to write. i’m almost on summer break so hopefully i’ll be more active bc i have a few ideas i’m excited to write for!!

it seriously took everything in mai’s willpower to not immediately whip out her phone to film your groggy state the moment she stepped into the room where you had just gotten your surgery done. she stifled a laugh at the bandage wrapped around your head, vaguely reminiscent of the one noritoshi had worn following the exchange event. when your eyes flicker over to meet her gaze, you give what she can only assume is your attempt at a smile, but looks more like a dog caught eating its owner’s dinner, with your face all swollen and slightly flushed.

forget that willpower shit.

she shamelessly calls out your name, to which you respond like an eager little kid. “say cheese!” she gives you an uncharacteristically wide grin to signal you to mirror her actions. you seemed to not learn from your previous mistake and attempted to smile back at her, before immediately cutting yourself off with a muffled groan. she hardly bothered with hiding her giggle this time, but at the very least she had the decency to cover her mouth as she cracked up.

with an annoyed pout on your face, you huffed and turned to the nurse standing beside you, who you were apparently to loopy to notice had joined in with mai on giggling at your grogginess. “she’s so mean to me!” you said, though your tone had no real irritation to it.

“it’s just to send to utahime. she wants to make sure your doing alright.” mai lied straight through her teeth, though you seem satisfied enough with that answer as you started to push yourself up from the seat you’d been in. mai quickly rushed to your side, knowing you weren’t sensible enough at the moment to ask for her help. before you could stand up and inevitably wobble over, she looped an arm around your waist and moved your arm so it was slung over her shoulders.

“alright champ, let’s get going.” she tried to remain as nonchalant as possible with the close proximity, but unfortunately for her, you seemed determined to embarrass her as much as possible.

“well at least buy me dinner first, ya casanova!” you said (much louder than necessary, mind you). honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising to mai if you could be heard from the waiting room.

with an over enthusiastic wave from you and an awkward thanks from mai to the nurse, you guys set off on your way.

to be fair to you, it was surprisingly a relatively tame trip to the door, with you focusing on keeping your steps in tune with mai’s. you were too lost in thought to embarrass yourself until you had made it to the waiting room. you had rather innocently pointed out a small curse, which would have been completely harmless had it not actually been an old woman, and had you not spoken with an inappropriately loud voice. the poor old lady who had fallen subject to your anesthesia induced self gave you an agitated glare as mai waved sheepishly in apology. the moment you guys were out the door, you turned back to glance through the glass.

“we’ll get her later, mai!” you patted her on the back with determination, your voice still muffled in a way that made you sound like you belonged on sesame street. “she can’t fool me, stupid curse!”

had it been anyone else, mai would have simply rolled her eyes and tugged you on, but since it was you, she found herself laughing along, a quiet laugh, like the sound of a wind chime in early spring weather. the sound seemed to catch you off guard, causing you to stop in your antics before turning to face her. she paused when she felt your gaze back on her, looking at her like a kid would look at fireworks for the first time.

she raised an eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanor. “what?”

“your laugh is pretty.” you stated simply, clearly having some pride at being the one to get her to laugh like that.

she turned away for a moment, hoping it would stop you from seeing the flush spreading across her face, knowing you’d never let her live it down. “thanks.” she muttered, praying she sounded at least a little bit cool and composed.

the short walk to the car was filled with you pointing out random cars asking if they were mai’s as you rested your head on her shoulder, before deciding the swelling was too painful for that.

a large grin which quickly turned into a grimace (you really never learned) appeared on your face when mai finally informed you that you’d made it to the right car. she held your hand to support you as you stepped into the seat, and once she’d sat down, reached over to buckle you in. she chose to ignore the over exaggerated wink you sent her way in favor of her own sanity.

as she drove, you babbled on about nonsense like how you were sure noritoshi had made mechamaru to hide the fact that he was secretly a robot, or how after that run you had gotten at the baseball game, you were sure you were destined to quit sorcery to go to the major leagues. to humor you, mai nodded along, before dryly responding that she’d probably be a better fit considering how good she looked in the baseball uniforms.

ignorant of her joking tone, you were quick to agree enthusiastically. “definitely! but i dunno if i’m the best person to ask, because i think you look good in just about anything.” your voice was sincere as you turned fully to look at her with slightly hazy eyes.

before either of you had time to process the admiration you had shown towards her, you glanced back out the window to the familiar sight of your school. you excitedly waved at the sight of todo and noritoshi sparring together. after catching his attention, todo didn’t even bother to stop the roaring laughter that came from your appearance, pointing out to noritoshi the similarities between your current look and his from just a few weeks ago. noritoshi gave todo an annoyed look, before glancing back over to see mai helping you out of the car, once again slinging your arm over her shoulders and supporting you with an arm on your waist.

she tried her best to ignore todo, she really did. though, it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore him when he loudly exclaimed what a ‘lady killer’ mai was. she snapped her gaze to meet his eyes, giving him a cold glare, before continuing to slink you along to your dorm.

when you opened the door to your dorm, the first thing mai noticed was a bulletin board on your wall, decorated with photos of all your friends, which most recently included your classmates. her eyes flicked to a photo of you next to another girl in elementary school with a smile that showed off your gap from missing teeth, and she chuckled softly at the irony of the photo compared to your current situation. her gaze then quickly shifted to a newly added strip of pictures from a photo booth. she smiled fondly at the memory of you, her, miwa, and momo sandwiching yourselves together in the tiny booth to take photos during your shopping trip. they weren’t ‘good’ photos, per say, in fact you guys all looked rather ridiculous trying to pack into frame, but for some reason, mai seemed to soften up at the memory of it, and how happy you looked just to be next to her.

her train of thought was interrupted by you tugging on the hand that didn’t rest on you, making her turn to see you mere inches from her face.

why the hell were you so close???

“yes?” she questioned, hoping to deflect from the fact that she was so obviously gushing over the photos on your wall just moments before.

“will you sleep with me?”

had you not had an arm around her, she probably would have dropped you in that instant. from the way she carried herself to the way she talked to others, most people would assume mai zenin does NOT blush, yet somehow you’d managed to disprove that theory way too many times today.

“WHAT?” it was her turn to be loud for a moment.

“i’m tireddddd” you whined “and you’re so warm.” you had stated it so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

she groaned, as if it would cover up her sheer embarrassment at how bold you were. wordlessly, she walked you to your bed, keeping her grip on your waist secure. it was amazing how gentle she was as she laid you down on that rock solid bed all the dorms were stuck with. she pulled a blanket over you, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed in hopes you’d doze off peacefully from there. when she didn’t shift from her position, you looked at her with a confused expression.

“wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lay down?” your words were still slightly slurred together. you rested a hand on hers. “you know i don’t mind.” despite your dazed look, she could tell your words were sincere as your thumb rubbed circles atop her hand.

mai turned to face you full on, her eyes gentle rather than their usual harsh look.

curse you for being so hard to resist.

“fine” her voice was quiet “but only because it’s my job to watch over you.” she stretched out her legs so she was laying down on the bed, pulling the blanket towards her so she could get comfortable.

“you’re so good to me mai.” you smiled. not a pained grimace, or an awkward baring of your teeth, but a smile. “people always seem to be so intimidated by you, but i don’t really get it. you’ve always been so nice to me. it’s nice.”

she didn’t understand how even when you were all loopy, you still managed to have such an effect on her. hesitantly, she reached up to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

it seemed the boldness from your anesthesia had rubbed off on her.

before she had time to talk, you continued. “i always feel so glad when we get paired up for missions, you make me feel so safe. like, i know when i’m around you that you’ll protect me. i admire you so much for doing all that for me.”

she went slightly stiff at your...confession? declaration? what exactly would you call that? you had said it so nonchalantly, whether it was out of trying to play off your fear of rejection or legitimate confidence, it was hard to tell.

“plus you’re really pretty.” your hand squeezed hers as you looked suddenly very interested in the pattern of your blanket. it was odd, seeing you get so shy all of a sudden, though she supposed it was somewhat of a win for her.

as you stared sheepishly away from her eyes that traced over every inch of your face, you felt her hand come up to your cheek, tilting you to face her. she continued scanning your face with an impossibly soft expression, before meeting your eyes once again.

“you know i wouldn’t do all that if it was anyone else.” her voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes bore into yours. her face was so close to yours that you could feel her breath fanning lightly across your face. “it’s all for you.” you’d never seen her so earnest before.

you smiled softly at her, even despite the ridiculous bandages around your head, and your chipmunk like cheeks, she still stared at you with so much love.

“you like meeee.” your tone was teasing, but it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you were just as whipped as her.

“dammit. you figured me out.” she said sarcastically, shuffling forward slightly so you were flush against her.

up close, the tiredness in your glassy eyes was obvious. she sighed to herself, and slowly leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“get some sleep.” she smiled at your eyes struggling to fight open your heavy eyelids. “we have a lot to talk about once the anesthesia wears off.”

maybe todo wasn’t so far off with that ‘lady killer’ comment.

[falcons-wings]

spark

bucky barnes x female reader

summary: when trying to get away from a guy who wont leave reader alone, bucky helps get rid of him

warnings: piece of shit dude who harasses and doesnt take no for an answer, swearing ,, pretty fluffy especially towards the end

wc: 1.3k+

masterlist

a/n: decided to do my first bucky work to beef up my masterlist a little and as a small break from the sam series im gonna post soon ,, hope its alright :)

(gif by @1038276637 )

Bucky still felt uncomfortable in incredibly crowded places, he didn’t know whether this was because of his time in the war or all of the shit that happened to him afterwards; either way loud places just like this bar he had been dragged to by Sam unnerved him - there were just so many noises and different possible dangers, so he was on edge all night.

He wasn’t even sure where Sam had disappeared to, he last saw him with a pretty girl, leaving him sat at the bar alone. He didn’t hold this against him though, he knew he wasn’t always the best person to be around, especially in a place like this, but Dr Raynor kept telling him he ‘needed to reenter society and spend time with friends’. And unfortunately for him Wilson was one of the only people he could maybe consider a friend at the moment and who had been annoying him about coming out to this bar for a while, so here he was, drinking a beer that had no effect on him at the bar on his own and listening to the weird music of the 21st century playing in the background.

He was almost finished with his drink and ready to leave when you sat next to him, you leaned into him as if you knew him and your smile was kind, but he could see a slight panic in your eyes. Something was obviously wrong and you leaned slightly closer to kiss his cheek whilst whispering so quiet he almost missed it.

“Really sorry about this but there’s a creepy guy who won’t leave me alone can you quickly pretend you’re here with me?”

Before Bucky even had a chance to reply to you or react, a large man with a gruff face and the smell of alcohol on his breath appeared at your shoulder with a predatory look in his eyes. Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave the man as soon as he was in sight, so he felt more than saw you move closer to him and away from this man who was eyeing you like a piece of meat.

“Hey sweetheart you left before we finished our conversation, why don’t we finish it somewhere else?”

You opened your mouth as if you were gonna say something, but apparently thought better of it and instead turned to Bucky with pleading eyes. He knew he couldn’t make a scene as that would end badly for multiple people so he was now just trying to control his anger at this piece of shit human being before he beat him up.

Bucky put his hand on your shoulder to pull you a little closer and to try and comfort you a little , “She’s with me, so why don’t you leave?” He made sure his voice was firm and clear, hoping this man would get the idea to leave you alone.

The man looked at him, and his arm around you, and glared, apparently able to tell that Bucky wasn’t one to mess with.

The man looked at you again before huffing out a breath, giving one last glare at Bucky before turning around and stalking back into the crowd.

“Again, I am really sorry about that.” You shuffled away slightly to break the contact you had with him, turning to face him instead, and he couldn’t help but find himself almost missing the close contact.

“Was he bothering you for long?”

“Not really, it was only about 10 minutes but anytime I tried to show or say I wasn’t interested he didn’t seem to get the hint unfortunately.” You gave him a small smile as if to say ‘what can you do?’ But this was completely not fine and Bucky thought that surely it should be a bigger deal than you were making it out to be?

“Have you seen him at this bar before?”

“Um no, this is the first time I’ve actually been to this place, my friends said I should have some fun for once - but obviously that wasn’t what actually happened tonight”

“Oh, well I’m sorry even if it hasn’t got anything to do with me and honestly I don’t come out at all but my friend actually annoyed me into coming tonight before he disappeared on me.” He laughed, glad to see you smile slightly too.

It was clear you were much more comfortable now the creep was gone but you still weren’t at ease, fiddling with your ring on your thumb during the conversation.

“I really am thankful you helped me though, and if you’re not usually here I am glad you were tonight, not sure I want to think about what would have happened if you weren’t.”

“Well you don’t have to think about it.”

You looked up at him to give him a small smile, making proper eye contact with for the first time since you sat down.

“I do have one question though.” He asked, waiting for you to nod before he continued, “Why did you pick me to help you? I mean I’m happy to, it’s just there’s just plenty of other men here who would probably love to scare someone away from you.”

“You looked the most serious and not as drunk as everyone else, so I assumed you would be more reliable and-“

You hesitated slightly as if you were embarrassed before continuing, “And I guess you looked a little lonely and could do with some company.”

Bucky almost choked on his drink, he could admit the wasn’t the most social person but normally when people describe him its things like: mean, tired, cold and stuff like that - normally lonely wasn’t used.

“Oh shit was that rude? I’ll get going now.”

“No don’t worry there’s much worse things you could’ve said.”

“That’s good then, I wouldn’t want to insult my fake boyfriend on our first date.” You laughed, a proper laugh that Bucky couldn’t help but laugh with you, and despite barely knowing you, he would do anything to hear you laugh like that again.

“Are you still planning on heading out?”

“Yeah my bed is calling my name after this long day I think.”

“Do you feel safe walking on your own? Because as you said I’m very sober and it would be irresponsible if I didn’t make sure a lovely lady like you got home safe.”

“Wow a man of honour,” you smirked at him, “but yes if you don’t mind that would actually be great. On one condition though.”

“What condition?”

“You tell me your name, I can’t go around being protected by a man I don’t know the name of.”

“Bucky.”

Your smile grew a little wider and he absolutely loved seeing it, “Well Bucky, it’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

You held out your hand for him to shake as you both stood up, and despite the warm feeling Bucky got in his chest at being in proximity to you, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so stepped away. He held the door of the bar open for you as you left, and kept a small distance away from you the whole way to your apartment block, being a complete gentlemen, just like he was raised.

When the two of you were outside your apartment, he stood to the side whilst you fumbled with your keys, and when you were finally successful in opening the door you turned back to him, a nice smile on your face.

“Thanks again for all the help Bucky, you were a fantastic fake boyfriend and it was lovely to meet you.”

“Again it was no problem, and you weren’t too bad at being a fake girlfriend yourself doll.”

There was a slight blush on your cheeks as you looked at him one last time, “Goodnight Bucky.”

You didn’t wait for his response, instead just walking into your apartment, and Bucky found himself with an uncharacteristic grin on his face as he stood there, whispering “Goodnight y/n.” before walking away, hoping that he would bump into you again some day.

[got-svt]

signs

order up !  large americano at 75% sweetness, a slice of strawberry shortcake, and a slice of cherry pie with mingyu for anon <3 order notes :  mingyu x reader, angst, fluff, a first date, brief mentions of other members, cameo from eunwoo bec i watched true beauty and was in need of another 97 liner, and a very nervous mingyu, he just wants everything to go well smh look, something’s written on your cup... hi ! for transparency’s sake this is an edited version of something that i posted a while back that i deleted. so if you are the anon who requested this but couldn’t find it, here it is now ! 

summary : all mingyu wanted was to go on one nice date with you, was that too much to ask? well, according to the universe, it was.

word count : ~2.8k

The first sign was he woke up a little too late, technically it wasn’t even a sign, considering that it was entirely his fault anyway. Mingyu had spent all of the previous night preparing for your date with him — making little sandwiches, cutting up some fruit, baking cookies to be put in little plastic containers. After hearing that you hadn’t been to the park in quite a while, never really having a reason to go, he decided that a picnic wasn’t too bad of an idea for a first date. 

Mingyu had wanted to ask you out for the longest time, being friends with him ever since both of you knew how to talk. It was easy, your friendship with him. Neither of you ever felt like you had to put up some sort of front, or have walls up incredibly high. He asked you out in the most casual of ways too, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. You couldn’t tell but on the inside, he was freaking out — that came with not knowing how you’d react and the possibility of rejection.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Mingyu asked, unable to meet your eyes.

You nodded, slightly confused at his inability to match your gaze.

“Okay, I was thinking we can go to the park tomorrow since you told me you haven’t been there in a while. Maybe we could go on a picnic?” He spoke as if he didn’t start preparing for this days ago, looking up fun things to do while on a picnic or a park — picking wildflowers together was high up on the list of things he wanted to do with you.

“Oh, sure! I’ll text Wonwoo and the others to see if they want to join us—”

“No!” Mingyu exclaimed, a little too loud and a little too quickly, a hand in front of you like he was about to physically stop you from doing something. “I was thinking that it could be just the two of us, you know?”

He hoped you would pick up on it, the implication from the nervous tone in his voice, how when he finally gazed up at you with softness in his yes. He was asking you out, on a date. Mingyu wished that you could tell. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t.

You shrugged your shoulders before giving him a smile, “Sure! We’ll meet there at around 10?”

And he couldn’t tell that you didn’t pick up on it either.

Mingyu woke up groggy that morning, his phone on the bedside table, calling out to him with the sound of a text notification. 

[Y/N]: where are you? I’m already here >:(

His eyes widened, falling off his bed in shock once he realized it was already five minutes past 10 am. Mingyu took a shower, put on his clothes, grabbed everything he needed, and sped past the door in twenty minutes. This was not how he planned it out in his head. Mingyu was supposed to surprise you at your place, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. No matter, he still had the rest of the day to sweep you off your feet and ask you to be his.

The sun shone brightly that morning, but it was neither hot nor humid. It was actually the perfect to be outside, with multiple white clouds littering the pale blue sky, a soft breeze blowing through the blades of grass, children running around playing tag — their laughter filling the air. Mingyu smiled, determined that today was going to be perfect

His eyes scanned around the are for any sight of your familiar figure, eyes lighting up when he finally spots you. Mingyu makes his way over, the nervousness that slowly started to creep up on him becoming amplified once he realizes that you were talking to someone else. 

The first thing he noticed was how big your smile was as you talked to this person, stretching across your face and crinkling your eyes. Did you ever smile this much around him? You stood a few feet away from the man, but you were very clearly comfortable around him — lightly pushing his shoulder as you laughed, peering up at him through your eye lashes. You finally notice him walking to you, waving your hand and beckoning him to move quicker.

“Hey Gyu!” You grinned, greeting him like you always did, a quick one armed side-hug.

“Hi, Yn.” Mingyu attempted a smile, but it felt a little restrained, gesturing to the person you were just talking to, “Who’s this?”

“Oh! This is Eunwoo, we dated a while ago but it never really worked out.” You shrugged, waving it off like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “You were taking so long and I happened to run into him so we were just catching up a bit.”

“I see..” He trailed off, holding a hand out for Eunwoo to shake. He had known you for years now, and yet he had never heard you mention an Eunwoo to him before. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Likewise.” Eunwoo replied, shaking Mingyu’s hand before turning to face you. “I won’t keep you too long. My number’s still the same, we should meet up for coffee sometime.”

Mingyu couldn’t help but furrow his brows at the sight of you enthusiastically accepting Eunwoo’s invitation. The little tug on his heartstrings was hard to ignore as he watched you give a quick hug goodbye to your ex-boyfriend — a very attractive ex-boyfriend for that matter. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, why did he have to wake up so late? If he had been there on time, you wouldn’t have been able to catch up with him for as long as you did. If he had stuck to his original plan of picking you up, you probably wouldn’t have seen him at all. 

Kim Mingyu wasn’t the jealous type, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but feel exactly that. Especially when he had been pining after for you for so long now, he didn’t want it to come crashing down just because of one person. 

“You’re pouting.” You commented, quickly noticing how uncharacteristically quiet he had become. The two of you walked side by side, hands ever so slightly brushing against one another. You hoped that the warm weather would be enough of an excuse for the red flush that made its way to your cheeks.

Mingyu shook his head, he didn’t mean to have you worrying for him. “Don’t worry about it.”

His reply made you even more skeptical, should there be something you’re meant to be worrying about? But you decided to drop the question, maybe it truly wasn’t that big of a deal.

You and Mingyu found a spot in a less crowded area of the park, you no longer the heard the sound of children screaming or their exhausted parents calling out over them. Instead the melodious sounds of birds tweeting up at the sky filled your ears, a delicate wind blew between the two of you, and the sun’s glare becoming much softer as it finally became covered by the clouds. 

He takes out a blue picnic blanket and lays it flat on the ground, smoothing out imaginary creases in the process. You hold a hand out to him, wordlessly letting him know that you’d like to set the picnic up with him. Mingyu hands you the picnic basket, and you spent the next couple of minutes in silence as you tried to make everything look almost picture perfect. The silence was far from uncomfortable, manifested by the small smiles and the growing blushes on both of your faces. There was something rather domestic about the activity, handing him different containers of food, deciding together where everything should be placed.

“Did you make these yourself?” You asked once both of you finally settled down, gesturing to the wide array of food that lay in front of you. 

Mingyu smiled, a hand on the back of his neck as he suddenly became ever so slightly bashful, “Yeah. I hope you like it.”

You take a bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies, something in you decided to tease him a little, making a face of slight disgust as you swallowed. His heart sank, a look of disappointment clearly covering his face. He spent all night making those, weren’t they up to your standard?

Panic washes over you as you saw a frown overtake his once smiling face, “I’m kidding! They’re good.”

Mingyu lets out a breath, the disappointment slowly disappearing as the two of you settled into an easy conversation, though that was never really difficult for the two of you. You and him have been friends for about a few years now, but he didn’t really know when exactly he started to see you as something more. He just knew that he did. This much was clear to him when he catches himself staring at you for a little too long, definitely longer than what would be considered normal. There was just something about you that enchanted him, whether it was you laughing over some silly joke he made, frowning as you become disappointed in the latest episode of a show you were watching, face illuminated by the light of a tv screen. You could be reading him your grocery list and he’d still think it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

The extent of his feelings terrified him the first time he realized they were there in the first place. Mingyu wasn’t meant to feel that way for you, one of his closest friends. But he did, and the thought of you possibly not feeling the same way terrified him even more. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, head tilted to the side, “Do I have something on my face?”

Mingyu shook his head quickly, he didn’t mean to stare again.

You felt a sharp sting on your ankle, wincing as you immediately yelped from the pain, “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu asked, eyes alight with concern. 

You shook your head in response, thinking it was just a lone ant deciding to inconvenience you. That thought was quickly dismissed when you felt another equally sharp sting near that same area. 

“Oh no…” You trailed off, looking a few meters to the side of your picnic blanket,  “Mingyu…”

“Oh!” He exclaimed, following your gaze to the trail of ants that were quickly making their way to the two of you. Great, was nature against him too?

The both of you immediately got up, covering containers, placing them in the basket, and folding up the picnic blanket before the rest of the ants could step their tiny little feet onto the blanket and into the food. As you walked to find a new spot to continue the rest of your date, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel a little bit discouraged. Three things had gone wrong in the span of a few hours, was this just the universe warning him that the two of you will never work out? Maybe telling him to back off early before he gets his heart broken. 

In the distance, a low rumble breaks through what would’ve been the perfect day out, followed by a sharp crackle piercing through the air. The sky once a brilliant blue was suddenly covered in heavy, stormy clouds. The park that once basked in the sun’s golden glow became shrouded in gray, people seemed to know what was about to happen as they hurriedly packed their things and go home.

It started out a small droplets, like little kisses on your skin that almost felt like nothing. They were small, and they fell ever so slowly. For a brief moment, Mingyu thought that this was going to be over quick. Then suddenly, the sky weeped, loud and heavy as it drenched the entirety of the park in rain. 

Okay, nature was definitely against him now. 

Mingyu stopped walking, was there even a point to moving forward? Everything was ruined. The food should be inedible at this point, you and him were soaked and freezing, and it’s not like you could have a picnic on muddy park soil. At this point, the universe had sent him so many signs, he’d feel like a fool if he didn’t listen now. But still, he wished things had happened the way it did in his head. He let out a frustrated groan, tears nearly pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mingyu was very clearly distressed, but you failed to see why. It’s nature, it’s not something you or him could control. Things like this happen and you should be spending your energy trying to find a place to shelter yourselves from the rain. You grab onto his arm, trying to pull him away, “Come on, let’s find a place that can cover us.”

“No! I’m not okay, Yn…” He trailed off, agitation seeping into each and every one of his words. He shrugs off his arm, much to your surprise. Usually, he’d let you cling onto him for as long as you liked. “I just wanted today to be perfect.”

You furrowed your brows, slightly confused at his irritation, “Why does it matter if today is perfect or not?”

Mingyu sighed, he was getting cold now. He wanted nothing more to be wrapped up in a blanket and have you in his arms. But he knew the chances of the happening now are essentially slim to none. The day was already ruined, and there’s nothing he could do to even remotely salvage it. “I just…”

You gestured for him to continue, waiting patiently as he tried to find the words to say.

“I wanted to give you the perfect date…” He spoke, looking down at his feet.

“Wait, this was a date?” You didn’t mean to sound surprised, you just genuinely were. Voice raising octaves and eyebrows shot up, talking too quickly to catch most of the words, “Like a date-date? I thought we were just hanging out! All you asked me yesterday was whether or not I was free!”

Mingyu’s shoulder’s slumped. He didn’t have to ask you to repeat himself, he heard you clearly despite how hard the rain currently came down, the beating of his own heart deafening him. In a way, he was thankful for the rain; at least you wouldn’t be able to tell if a few tears escaped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just thought…yeah, no. I should have expected this.”

Guilt immediately flooded your senses, he must’ve read your shock as a rejection of his feelings. You didn’t mean to sound so startled at him thinking the entire day as a date, you just couldn’t believe the possibility that he felt the same way you did for him. “Mingyu.”

You were sure if he had heard you, his gaze still on the ground. You called out to him again, this time your voice much louder and sterner, hoping that it would get his attention. “Gyu.”

“What is it, Yn?” He looked up to find you making your way towards him, a small pout forming on your lips. Mingyu sighed, “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine.” 

“I like you.” You spoke, just as you were about a few feet away from him, looking into his eyes to make sure he knew that you meant it — that you were being completely serious.

His world stopped. Suddenly, it seemed like the earlier events of the day never happened. He never woke up late, you hadn’t gotten the chance to catch-up with your ex-boyfriend, ants never tried to show up uninvited to your picnic, rain never poured down on the two of you. All these things he thought were signs from the universe, never occurred. There was only you and him, and you liked him back. 

“Oooooh you wanna kiss me so bad.” You teased, attempting to snap him out of his trance.

Mingyu didn’t mean to stare at you again, speechless. He just couldn’t believe that this was real just yet. But your words, how you looked at him with a smile — expectant, like you were challenging him to do something, to make a move — finally made him realize just how real this was. “And what if I do?”

You blinked back, not expecting that bold of a response. Still, you took a single step forward, further closing the already small distance between the two of you. “I’d let you.”

Without another word, he moves a hand to your chin, gently tilting your face up so his lips could meet yours in a kiss.

— thank you for visiting cafe amore ! feel like ordering something else? check the menu here.

[sapphicquill]

TAZ Balance: the truth will set you free

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen 

Characters: Taako, Kravitz, Magnus

Wordcount: 2942

“You’re fuming, dear.” 

Taako turns to look at Kravitz when the reaper speaks, trying not to let the thin frown fall off of his face at the sight of his uncharacteristically smug dead boyfriend. From his spot as Taako’s personal body pillow, Magnus laughs quietly.

“I can’t believe he convinced you to teach him this shit,” Taako says with an exaggerated huff. The elf crosses his arms tightly across his chest, sticking his chin up haughtily to hammer home his petulence. Magnus laughs again, the vibrations of it rumbling through Taako’s back like a purr. Taako very courteously does not throw an elbow backwards into the fighter’s stomach, despite how much he would enjoy doing just that. Kravitz lets out a hum, smirk not quite leaving his unfairly handsome face. 

“It’s not my fault Angus got curious about multiclassing as a bard,” the reaper finally says. And, as much as Taako was loath to acknowledge it, Kravitz is right. Taako groans theatrically and pointedly does not actually respond like an adult, because fuck that. 

Angus had approached Taako after one of their lessons together--much less frequent than they once were, before Lucas had gotten the idea to start up a small magic school, but Angus seemed content to return to his first (and clearly superior) tutor whenever the chance presented itself. But instead of asking for some sage wisdom or deeply insightful advice from Taako himself, Angus had asked for confirmation that Kravitz had been a bard before becoming a reaper, then begged for Taako to bring him along for their next lesson. 

Kravitz had been over the moon when Taako begrudgingly explained the situation, and the reaper wasted absolutely no time in devising a lesson plan for the boy detective. Taako had to work especially hard to keep from swooning over his boyfriend’s enthusiasm and instead sulked to their other boyfriend about the cruelty of life. (Magnus had been very little help, the bastard. Taako left with a disgruntled whine when the fighter started theorizing on how to convince Ango that learning some rogue skills could be helpful too, the absolute traitor.) 

“You want to know what I think?” Kravitz asks after another moment of silence. Taako frowns as he finally lets his gaze meet the reaper’s eyes directly. 

“Not particularly, but something tells me you’re going to keep talking anyway, you dick.”

“You’re jealous.”

Taako feels himself freeze for half a second before he can pull himself together. Damn Kravitz for knowing him so well. Damn him and Magnus for making him feel comfortable enough to even let himself be read that easily. Damn them both.

“Oh fuck right off, you’re full of shit,” the elf tosses back almost automatically through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, play nice,” Magnus teases, poking Taako in the side. The unexpected jab sends a fluttering shockwave through the startled wizard, who squeaks before he can catch himself. Kravitz continues to look on smugly, not breaking eye contact with Taako as he scoots further up the bed and closer to the other two. 

“You’re very precious when you get all wound up like this, love,” he murmurs. Taako shifts, instinct telling him to pull away and hide, to clam up and put up an even harder front. A quiet voice that sounded worryingly sweet and comforting tells him to just come clean to the both of his boyfriends. It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was secretly a soft, if somewhat emotionally-deficient, sap. Magnus had definitely figured it out somewhere along that first hundred years, and Kravitz was frighteningly perceptive.

A sudden weight around his waist distracts Taako from the beginning of whatever bullshit emotional spiral he’s about to fall into, his body automatically pulling against the sudden restriction. Though the warmth of Magnus’ arms encircling him from behind sends an innate sense of calm through him, the elf nearly pulls something in his neck as he whips his head toward the human because Magnus, what the actual hell. Magnus has the decency to look a bit sheepish, but resolutely does not let go. 

“Mags…” Taako growls, narrowing his eyes and trying to look intimidating despite the growing fluttering of excitement in his stomach. He’s quickly figuring out Magnus’ plan and is now desperate to not show his hand because fuck, this got different, fast. This somehow turned into Taako goading his boys into absolutely wrecking him for being a stubborn piece of shit, which he hadn’t even considered as an outcome when this mock argument had started. Now, however, his mind is three steps ahead, already craving the feeling of his partners’ touches driving him insane.

Because here’s the thing—Taako, maybe, kinda, sorta actually likes getting tickled. He absolutely would never say as much, even under pain of death (and he is really familiar with how  fucking painful death can be), and the only other being in the multiverse that probably knows is Lup because, duh, twin sister or whatever. So it was always imperative Taako never let on in any way he didn’t exactly hate it when Magnus and Kravitz, whether alone or together, decide to tickle him stupid. He would probably implode from the embarrassment—and what a dumb fucking way to go after everything else. No, that wouldn’t do at all. 

Thus, it’s second nature for the elf to throw out menacing glares and cutting threats, which is exactly what he does as he feels Magnus flex his fingers and rest them at the center of his stomach. He’s unable to resist flinching at the sudden light touch to his bare midriff, though—damn, why did he and Lup convert the majority of his wardrobe into crop tops? 

Movement at the other end of the bed catches his attention, so he redirects back to Kravitz, face pinched and pout sufficiently exaggerated. 

“It’s quite alright, Taako, really,” the reaper says, affecting the tone he usually saves for puppies and small children, the absolute ass, “You’re allowed to want to be Angus’ favorite.”

“Shut up, I do not—” 

The remainder of Taako’s protest is swallowed by a sharp gasp as Magnus draws his fingers across Taako’s stomach with a quick flick

“Do you really think you’re in any position to be bitchy right now?” the human says, smile evident despite his gruff tone. Taako feels his ear twitch as Magnus’s breath skates across his skin and it takes every ounce of concentration he has to not shiver or let out a breathy half-laugh. Instead the elf remains as still as possible, frown almost ridiculously exaggerated and eyes narrow slits focused on Kravitz. The reaper adopts an over-the-top pout—no doubt meant to mock Taako’s own expression—and draws ever closer to Taako and Magnus. 

“Magnus, maybe you could help me convince our beloved to be more honest, hm?” 

The words have barely left Kravitz’s mouth when Taako feels Magnus begin to slowly drag his fingertips across his exposed stomach. Tiny zings of tickly sensation burst across Taako’s skin like low-level electricity and somehow keeping still and silent is the hardest thing Taako’s ever done in his life. He can’t, however, keep the warm bubbling feeling of anticipation and excitement from flooding his entire body, and that, of course, makes keeping still even fucking harder. 

Magnus’ fingers trail lightly across Taako’s abdomen before slowly gliding up his sides. Without really meaning to, Taako squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will himself into a trance by force. This clearly amuses both of his boyfriends, as their joint chuckles echo in stereo in the sudden darkness. Taako feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and he’ll cascade off the side and plunge ten thousand feet—

Then Magnus’s devilish touch reaches the top of his ribs and the dam breaks. 

A steady stream of hiccuping giggles pours from Taako as Magnus gently skitters light tickles across one of Taako’s absolute worst spots and even without looking, the elf can tell that his boyfriends have both got gleeful expressions on their stupid fucking faces. He squirms, trying in vain to block out the torturous sensation of Magnus’ fingers or escape their attack altogether, but that just seems to encourage the fighter. Feather-light scritches instantly turn into fast, fluttering pinches and quick vibrating prods and Taako would be embarrassed about how quickly he dissolves into full-fledged laughter if he wasn’t so busy absolutely losing his mind. 

“Ready to admit you secretly adore Angus yet, love?” Kravitz asks from far too close, Taako can tell he’s almost pressed up against his chest, but fucking of course he isn’t. He can practically hear the mischievous grin in the reaper’s voice when he shakes his head. 

“You leave me no choice, then.” 

Over the sounds of his increasingly frantic laughter, Taako can hear Kravitz speaking the incantation for Zone of Truth, and he’s sure Krav’s crimson eyes are sparkling with mirth. The unique sensation of enchantment magic washing over him barely phases the elf—he’s too preoccupied with Magnus’ deft hands flitting up and down his ribs to really pay it much mind. Taako squeezes his eyes even tighter and attempts to focus on resisting the truth spell, gasping around his laughter, trying to push past the way his nerves feel like they’ve been set alight so he can focus—

And then promptly fails his save. 

Of course he fails his save. How could he possibly concentrate on resisting a Zone of Truth from a powerful ex-bard-turned-Grim-Reaper with Magnus’ fucking fingers skittering across his abdomen, drawing squeaky, desperate laughter from him like water from a well? 

“Now, come on, dove, be honest with us.” 

And then Kravitz is tickling him too, on top of concentrating on a fucking spell, his nimble musician’s fingers skittering ruthlessly across Taako’s hips, and it’s impossible to think about anything other than the fluttering in his stomach, the laughter forcing its way out of his lungs, the pleasant fuzziness already clouding his mind. He can’t even remember Krav’s question, really. Taako’s brain feels like it’s been filled with cotton (but like, in a good way) and he can barely string two thoughts together before giving up thinking altogether. 

“Admit it, Taako, tell us the truth,” Kravitz purrs directly into Taako’s ear and even that tickles like hell, and between that and the two pairs of hands currently wreaking ticklish havoc on him, it feels like every wire in Taako’s brain is crossing simultaneously. He wants this to end and also never wants this to end, why can’t his boyfriends wreck him like this constantly, it’s not fair—

“Tell us, Ko, come on!” Magnus whines, seemingly trying to match Taako’s usual petulant tone as he drills his fingers into the wizard’s underarms and knocks his laughter up at least ten decibels, and that’s what pushes Taako to open his big, stupid mouth. He means to say something about the dumb boy detective, he really does, but instead all he can think about is Kravitz and Magnus making him scream and laugh and thrash around with teasing words and fluttering fingers and, well—

“I—I—” Taako’s voice breaks on a laugh, brain going a million miles an hour and also stuck in the mud simultaneously.

“Yes dear, that’s it, come on, out with it,” Kravitz says while rubbing incessantly ticklish circles into Taako’s sides. And that finally pushes an answer out of Taako, who manages to push through his laughter long enough to speak. 

“I fucking like being tickled, okay?—Shit—!”

Suddenly, the two pairs of hands on Taako’s skin still, and as his laughter slowly dies down, the full impact of what he’d just actually admitted to hits the elf like a cartload of bricks. Fuck. Shit.

Weirdly, instead of instant fiery panic, Taako is filled with a sense of...calm? It’s like someone hit pause on the entire fucking universe. Taako keeps his eye closed and resolutely doesn’t think about what just happened; doesn’t think about anything, other than a burning sense of mortification and the deepest desire for a hole to open up and swallow him up. 

“Nope, okay, that’s—I didn’t—no, fuck this,” Taako mumbles as he sits up, easily breaking out of Magnus’ hold. With eyes still closed he leaps up from the large bed and has half a mind to burn a Teleportation spell to get as far away from his boyfriends as possible before feeling a cool hand wrap around his wrist. Taako can identify the feel of Kravitz’s touch almost alarmingly well, and normally he sinks into it without more than a few grumbled faux-complaints. Here and now, the wizard doesn’t instantly pull his arm from Kravitz’s grasp like he desperately wants to, but he doesn’t move toward him either. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends he’s literally anywhere else. 

“Taako, wait,” and that’s Magnus’ voice, the one that always makes a small part of Taako melt because it’s so full of genuine love and affection and care and fuck, he has to open his eyes and face the two men he actually definitely loves, shit. He braces himself, not exactly sure what expressions might adorn the faces of his boyfriends but he’s prepared for the worst. 

The first thing Taako sees when he opens his eyes is, unsurprisingly, Kravitz, as the reaper is closer to him. What does surprise Taako is the look Kravitz is giving him. The other man looks—apologetic? 

“Taako, I’m so sorry,” Kravitz starts, and Taako feels his heart stutter a bit, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I should never have cast Zone of Truth and forced you to tell us that.”

And that—

That’s not what Taako had expected to hear come out of Kravitz’s mouth. He’d more or less thought, at the very least, he’d get laughed at. Made fun of. Belittled. Shamed. This is—far from all of that. 

“I—what?” 

If it had been any other time, Taako would have congratulated Krav for actually rendering him fucking speechless, because that’s a rarity. As it is, Taako can’t do much of anything aside from gape, gaze not leaving Kravitz’s crimson eyes. 

“The spell, it didn’t compel you but it forces you to be truthful, and you clearly weren’t ready to tell either of us that you—” 

At this, Kravitz seems to pause, looking like he’s attempting to phrase his words as carefully as possible while still turning over this new information in his mind. Luckily, Magnus, as he always seems able to, picks up right where their Grim Reaper leaves off. 

“You’re totally waiting for us to roast you or something, aren’t you?” 

Fuck, has Magnus always been this perceptive? Taako could have sworn he was oblivious as all hell but no, this is the man he’s known for over a century, of course Magnus knows all his tells. 

“Well, we’re not going to,” the fighter barrels forward, always fucking rushing in, and Taako isn’t sure whether he wants to dive back onto the bed or Misty Step to the front porch to call Lup on the Stone of Farspeech and just scream. 

“Why would we? It’s not like you’ve told us something weird or bad or anything,” Kravitz adds, finally out of his own head. He sounds a little frantic, like he desperately needs Taako to believe him and fantasy Christ, Taako loves him for it. 

“Honestly, it’s kind of adorable,” Magnus adds. Taako finally cocks his head enough to meet the human’s eyes and he’s known Magnus long enough to tell when he’s lying. 

He’s absolutely not lying. 

The sense of relief that Taako expects to flood through him comes in waves. His heart is still beating a million miles an hour (which he hadn’t even noticed, fuck) and it still feels like he could cook a five course meal using only the heat collected on his face, but his desire to run and hide and sulk is retreating, and the space between Magnus and Kravitz is looking more and more inviting by the second. 

It’s the most natural thing in the entirety of the planar system for Taako to lower himself back onto the bed and resume his position lounging against Magnus. Quiet descends on the room and it’s warm, comfortable. 

“We should probably have a real conversation about this later,” Kravitz says, and Taako surprises himself by humming in agreement rather than groaning in protest. 

“Later,” he concedes, and then Magnus is shifting again and Taako’s about to grouse about how a moving pillow is a pretty shitty pillow when—

“So if you actually like getting tickled—”

An involuntary shudder shoots down Taako’s back at this, at Magnus’ voice curling around that word, fuck, and suddenly the great brute’s hands are back on Taako’s ribs and his fingers are slowly tracing Taako’s skin and it’s like a bolt of lightning through his entire consciousness. 

“Then you won’t mind if Krav and I get back to work, huh?”

Despite quickly being overcome by tittering giggles, Taako can sense a voiceless conversation happening over him, and then Kravitz is back in his space and his hands are inching up Taako’s thighs, squeezing and stroking lightly as they go. 

“Yes, Magnus is right—you never actually told us what we really wanted to hear, love,” Kravitz purrs, mischief and affection so clear on his face that there’s no room for Taako’s anxiety to even attempt to convince him of something horrible.  

So instead of spiraling into a pit of despair, Taako revels in the wide grin pulling at his lips, savors the electric sensations rippling across his nerve endings, and laughs. 

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Prologue

Tag List: @sandersidesbigbang @thomassanderssidesbigbang2021 @theimprobabledreamersworld

First Chapter > | Masterlist

This is a multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the last couple of months as a part of the 2021 Sanders Sides Big Bang. The original idea came from this post by @remy-please-come-back [thanks again for letting me use the idea 💜].

Summary: Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings. The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone. It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone. Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained. In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind. In the veins of all creatures, including humankind. For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

For the longest time, Logan wanted to learn magic. So, when he was offered the chance to study it at a new magic school, he decided to follow his dreams. Along the way, however, he'll learn about so much more.

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs.

Read on AO3

0 | The Underdog's Debut

Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings.

The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone.

It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone.

Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained.

In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind.

In the veins of all creatures, including humankind.

For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

Perhaps this was why people found it so intriguing from such a young age. They wanted answers to what magic was, and while they didn’t find what they sought, they did learn how it could be used to their advantage. Spells were created to do anything that their caster’s heart desired. From creating a small orb of light for reading in the night to manipulating a tidal wave that could crash down on your enemies.

Magic was something not easily understood, which was one reason why the Council of Wizards evaluated all potential magic users. They wanted to gage that these young mages could safely use the power they were wielding. If not, then they needed to be properly dealt with before things got out of hand.

This was a good thing, but also not because to learn magic safely you would need someone else to teach you first-hand.

Now that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle, except the only established wizards were of the nobility, and therefore only worked with nobility. The system was pretty much rigged to make it hopeless for average people to learn and use magic. Or it was until our protagonist came along.

He rose from poverty to royalty, became a hero among heroes, and faced off against one of the greatest threats to humankind that ever existed! But I’m getting ahead of myself -sorry- let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Oh, but where to begin? Ah! We’ll start from his first test with the Council of Wizards when he was only a young lad of 15. It was the beginning of spring, which is when the COW always held the learner’s test. This test evaluated your magical potential and gave the council a heads up on how many new mages there were. Yes, COW, don’t ask me why they went with that acronym.

The ceremony was being held in the grand hall of the palace, and it was open for anyone from the Srednas Kingdom to come and watch. The test itself was rather simple but the festivities that came with it made things feel like a special holiday. Nobility and common folk alike were gathered to watch and see what new wizards would be taking on learning magic. There was even a small market of sorts set outside the palace to take advantage of the crowds and sell foods, drinks, and commemorative merchandise.

Inside, people were everywhere, talking excitedly to one another and trying to find good places to view the proceedings. At the end of the room, there was a dais with two thrones where King Thomas and his husband, Prince Consort Nico, sat to watch. In front of the dais were nine chairs for the COW members, who talked with the royals and amongst themselves. Even they seemed eager for what was about to happen, and yet no one knew truly how monumental today was going to be.

The event had begun the same as any other year. Noble children from across the land showed off whatever three spells they’d learnt for the test. Most were common tricks like lighting candles or making plants grow. A handful showed off with advanced versions of these spells, such as holding the flames in their hands or making entire trees grow. Still, regardless of how many times these spells were cast, the crowd watched in awe with each new user who passed their test.

And then a young man in a simple navy tunic and black trousers stepped forward. He looked to be in his mid-teens, the same as most of the young mages and walked with an air of subtle confidence. He had a slender form and soft features that pronounced his youthful appearance. His hair was raven black, swept neatly to the side, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed almost black.

“Please state your name and title.” Silvia, the eldest council member, said.

“My name is Logan Picani.”

“Title?”

“I don’t have any.”

Silence fell over the hall. “Pardon?”

“I don’t have any titles.”

“How do you not have any titles?”

“I’m not a noble.”

Some people audibly gasped and began whispering conspiratorially to one another.

“Young man, you do understand what this test is, correct?” Allen, another council member, asked with a thinly veiled look of disgust.

“Yes sir, I do. I also know for a fact that there are no rules against my taking the test because of being a commoner.”

Allen frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Silvia. “I suppose not. Well then, let’s see what you can do.”

Logan took a deep breath and then held up his hand, “Ignyght.”

The tip of his little finger began to glow with golden light. The crowd watched on in silence as he carefully moved his hand to draw the necessary rune with the trail of light that flowed from his finger.

Once the rune was complete, he spoke again. “Solhart.”

The rune turned stark white and then disappeared. For a moment nothing happened, then a small white orb appeared where the rune had previously been floating. This earned a few excited claps from the crowd and an approving nod from two council members. But Logan didn’t stop there.

“Groh.” This time the light from his fingers was bright green. He made a different rune then repeated the sealing word, “Solhart.”

The orb multiplied until nearly fifty of them were floating in a cluster before Logan.

“Stahwynd.” A deep blue light flowed from Logan’s finger as he drew the final rune. “Solhart.”

The orbs burst apart from one another like birds flying off a tree in fear. Some people from the crowd shouted in shock as the balls of light zoomed off in all different directions until finally, they stopped. Now they were floating all around the room above the spectators who gasped as they realized what Logan had done. The hall’s ceiling was pitch black, so the lights looked like stars in the night sky. It was a breath-taking sight that inspired many to cheer and clap for the young mage.

“Alright, please settle down,” Silvia called over the noise before looking at Logan with a thoughtful expression. “Where did you learn this?”

“I taught myself.”

Silvia nodded then turned to talk with her fellow council members in hushed tones. Allen and two others seemed upset, while the rest of the council were neutral if not mildly impressed. After a few minutes, she looked back at Logan with a soft smile.

“Mr Picani, you are officially granted your learner’s license. I hope when we see you again in a few months time, you will once more surprise us all.”

The crowd cheered and Logan nodded before walking away with a look of pride. As he made his way through the crowd, he received congratulations from many strangers. And then he was tackled to the ground by an enthusiastic brown-haired girl.

“You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!”

“Everleigh, my ribs.” Logan wheezed, causing the girl to release him.

“Oops, sorry. My bad. Is your chest okay?”

“It’s fine.” Both youths got up with smiles on their faces. “I did it.”

“Yep. In a couple of months, you’re going to be an official grand wizard.”

“Considering I just got my learners, I don’t think I’ll reach such a title that quickly.”

“You just created a night sky in the palace ballroom! I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

Logan smiled softly, “Come on, we should head back to the bakery to celebrate.”

Everleigh nodded in agreement and linked their arms so they could walk side by side. As they walked, Everleigh excitedly told Logan about how incredible it had looked from the crowd, and what kind of reactions the people around her had had.

Logan was uncharacteristically grinning by the time they’d reached the bakery. Walking inside only made his smile widen as the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries filled his senses. It was after all the smell of home, so of course, it made him feel warm and welcomed. His father, Emile Picani, was standing by the counter helping an elderly customer when Logan and Everleigh walked in.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Oh, I should be the one thanking you, Mrs Goldstone. The brownie recipe you gave me has become a bestseller.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Have a nice day dear.”

“To you as well, ma’am. Oh, Logan, Everleigh, you’re back. And smiling,” Emile gasped, “did you get it?”

“He’s a wizard!” Everleigh dramatically announced.

“Not yet, I still need to finish the second test in a couple of months. I do have a learners’ license though.”

“Well, I think this calls for some celebratory tarts,” Emile said, ushering both youths into the back of the shop where the Picani’s sitting room/kitchen was located. “I’m proud of you logan. That hard work really paid off.”

“Speaking of hard work, you are going to take a break, right?” Everleigh asked.

Logan looked away from her sheepishly. “Well…”

“Come on, Lo. You’ve been working hard non-stop for months.”

“Yeah, kid, you work with me in the bakery all day, then study well into the night. And don’t think I haven’t seen you pull an all-nighter here and there.” Emile chastised.

It was true that Logan had worked long hard to get to where he was. it wasn’t exactly a simple task when books on magic were hard to find, and what knowledge they had was even harder to grasp. Figuring out pronunciation for the initiation/sealing words and learning to keep his hand steady as he drew the runes.

It had taken him many long nights of studying by candlelight to figure out the spells he’d performed. But with Everleigh’s library apprenticeship and his own persistent nature, he’d managed to learn a good deal about the basics. And now it was paying off. He officially had a learner’s license and would get a chance to become a genuine wizard.

Then he could use magic to help so many of the villagers who couldn’t afford the high-priced assistance of other magicians. Medicinal potions? Enchanted prosthetics? Transition spells? He would be able to give all this and more at prices his peers could afford.

Logan knew that what he was doing seemed near impossible, but he was going to do it or die trying! …okay, so maybe Emile and Everleigh were valid in their concern for his health, but this was his best and only way to study magic.

Before Logan could argue this, however, a stranger walked into the bakery. He was tall and slender, with a bronze tan and confident bearing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clean white tunic, black trousers, and dark brown riding boots. His short curly hair was the same dark brown shade as the boots, and his eyes were hidden by black tinted glasses.

“New customer, how do you how do?”

The stranger smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous. Sorry but I’m not a customer today. Is this where Logan Picani lives?”

“Yes, that’s my son.”

“Son? No offence honey but you look too young and handsome to be a dad.”

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Logan asked, taking over the conversation for his blushing father.

“Ah, yeah, I’m here to offer you a very special opportunity on behalf of the crown prince.”

Logan and Emile gaped. “The crown prince?”

The stranger nodded. “My name is Remy Animosni, and on behalf of his highness, I’m here to extend an exclusive invitation to the Srednas Magic School.”

Logan frowned. “I wasn’t aware that there was a magic school here in Srednas.”

“Well, that’s because there wasn’t, not until now anyway. It’s something that the prince arranged to start this year with a few students to show how good it could be to the council. You particularly caught his interest today with your starry spellcasting, hence the personal invite. You would learn alongside six other students under me about everything there is to know concerning magic, from the full basics of spells to how you can modify your own enchantments.”

“That sounds incredible,” Emile said.

Remy nodded. “Yep, and not only that but you will be given your own room at the school and anything you may need or want during your stay will be provided by us, free of charge. The location of the school is just an hour out of town, so you could visit home on weekends if you desired. So how about it, kid?”

Logan was gobsmacked. The crown prince had not only seen him but was impressed enough to send an invitation to learn magic at a special new magic school.

“Wait, what do I have to do for the prince in return?”

“Absolutely nothing. The offer is completely free of any fees or deceptive dealings. I promise. The prince even sent this with me to make sure you could have physical proof if so desired.” Remy stated, producing a scroll from inside his jacket.

Emile and Logan both looked over the document and found no problems. It was a straightforward invitation for Logan to study magic at the prince’s new school, with promises to provide anything he could need while he was living at said school, and nothing more. The father and son shared a thoughtful glance. It was definitely an opportunity.

Emile smiled. “Do it.”

“Really? You think I should accept?”

“A chance like this only comes around once, and I can always hire someone if I need the help. Follow your dreams kiddo.” Emile said with an encouraging smile.

Logan bit his lip as he considered things. He really hadn’t thought today could get any better, then this happened. He was worried about leaving his dad, but Emile had told him to take this chance. And he was right about this being a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides, Remy had said he could still visit the town on the weekends…

“Okay. I accept.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask. [Also, here's a link to chapter 1]

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys and the Hidden Talent You Wouldn’t Expect Them To Have

Lucifer: Honestly, they had thought it was just for decoration.

Considering how little the brothers actually used anything in the music room, they had just assumed most of the instruments in there were just for show. The only reason they were proved wrong was by sheer accident.

Their insomnia had been a hindrance back in the human realm, but now that the constant darkness of the Devildom had taken a hammer to their circadian rhythm, they found themselves wandering the halls of the House of Lamentation more and more frequently in the middle of the night. While they knew they weren’t the only one awake at this hour (they had made the mistake of wandering too close to Asmo’s room and discovered that his nights were very active) they typically were the only one out of their room.

It was their second pass around the first floor when they heard it. A faint, unfamiliar melody ringing softly down the hall. Before they realized what they were doing, their feet had brought them to the music room. When they peeked through the doorway, the sight made them freeze.

Lucifer was seated on a bench, eyes closed in an uncharacteristically serene expression. The soft candlelight shone behind him, making him look every bit like the angel he once was as his long, graceful fingers plucked skillfully at the strings of the harp. The song was hauntingly beautiful, much like Lucifer himself, and something about it made the human’s breath catch in their throat.

They hadn’t thought they made a noise, but demon hearing was something else. Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, hands halting over the strings as the two of them made eye contact. 

At first, it seemed like Lucifer was preparing to scold them, and they felt themself reflexively tensing. Instead, Lucifer’s expression softened.

“You should be in bed.” his voice betrayed how tired he was, even if he appeared just fine.

“I couldn’t sleep.” they murmured. Speaking too loudly might break the spell, and this gentle illusion would shatter.

“Hm.” he motioned them forward, patting the spot next to him. The bench was small enough to when they sat down, they were shoulder-to-shoulder with Lucifer. “I couldn’t sleep either.”

“I didn’t know you could play the harp.” they blurted out. Lucifer, caught off guard by their bluntness, stared down at them for a moment before sighing. A nostalgic smile pulled at his lips, and they found themself wishing he would smile like that more often. 

“A skill left over from the Celestial Realm. Playing always put me at ease.”

“Will you keep playing for me?”

He chuckled softly. “Of course. Shall I play a lullaby for the two of us?”

Mammon: “Are we done studying yet? This sucks!”

They didn’t even bother looking up from their textbook. Mammon had done more complaining than studying at this point, and they were honestly too worked up about passing this test tomorrow to worry about entertaining him.

“You can be done if you want, I’m going to keep going.” they mumbled. They talked big, but they had been reading the same sentence over and over again without taking in a single letter. They knew that it wasn’t really helping, but they were convinced that if they didn’t spend every last second studying the material, they were going to fail spectacularly. Honestly, after one semester of Potions, they were never going to complain about chemistry every again.

“You’re gonna ruin your eyes, at this rate.”

They nearly jumped out of their skin. When had Mammon gotten up? How had he gotten behind them without them noticing? Shit, maybe they did need to give it a rest.

“Alright, alright,” they sighed. “I’m not retaining any of this stuff anymore anyway - ow, fuck!” 

“What’s wrong?” Mammon sounded unnecessarily terrified, the big worrier.

“Nothing, nothing, sorry.” they brought a hand up to the back of their neck. “Been hunched over for too long, my neck and shoulders are mad at me.”

“Damn, human, you had me thinkin’ you were dyin’ or something.” he breathed out. “Here.”

“What are - “ they cut themselves off as Mammon’s warm hands settled on their shoulders. His thumbs worked soothing circles on the column of their neck before sliding down to work on their shoulder blades.

They felt their eyes slipping close without their consent. “Holy shit, Mammon.” they probably should be a bit more concerned with how breathy their voice sounded, but he was working wonders on their stiff muscles.

He knew just how much pressure to apply, just how to move his hands. The warmth of his palms seeped through their shirt, and they let out a sigh that might have sounded a bit like a moan.

“Hey, you can’t go makin’ those noises while I’m doin’ this.” his voice had gone just a bit lower. “You’re gonna make it awkward.”

“Sorry.” they muttered. “But you’re really good at this. You should open up a massage parlor. You would make a killing.”

“Heh, I thought about it.” he pulled his hands away, and they almost whined at the loss of contact. “But I don’t want to have to rub my hands over some crusty old bastard.”

“Oh well,” they shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to just keep you to myself then.”

Leviathan: “Hey, normie, open up!”

They considered ignoring him in favor of finishing up this very intense Pokemon battle, but it was pretty rare that Levi came to their room without texting them first. With a sigh, they shut their DS and hopped off of their bed to let him in.

“What’s up?” they leaned against the doorway.

“Didn’t you hear? That new MMO is having an exclusive pre-release event. Only the first 300 can get in! Go get set up, people have been talking about this new totally OP armor they’re going to - “

Levi cut himself, peering over their shoulder and wrinkling his nose. “What’s that?”

At first, they thought he was talking about their DS, but when they looked behind them, they realized what he meant.

“Ah, yeah.” the walked over to their bed and picked up the old stuffed dragon toy. They creadled him gently to their chest and frowned a little. “He got a little roughed up on his way to the Devildom. I had to get creative.”

The toy was clearly well loved, but the real attention-grabber was the piece of duct tape holding its front left leg to the rest of it. Little bits of fluff could be seen beneath the tape and it was clear that the repair job wasn’t going to last for much longer.

Leviathan clicked his tongue. “That’s never going to hold. Bring him over after the event tonight.”

“Why?” the human tilted their head, clutching the dragon tighter like they were afraid Levi was going to mercy-kill him.

“I’m going to fix him for you, duh.” there was a faint dusting of pink high on his cheekbones, and he looked away quickly. “I don’t like to bring my sewing stuff out of my room, I’ll lose it for sure.”

“You can sew?” they sounded incredulous. “Since when?”

“Th-there was a contest a while back. Whoever made the best TSL cosplay got to have a meet and greet with the cast of the movie.” Levi looked like he was about to catch fire now. “Of-of course, I couldn’t just go buy stuff, everyone knows the handmade stuff is better, so I learned how to sew.”

“Levi, that’s amazing!”

Levi blinked. “I-It is?”

“Duh!” they beamed up at him. “I could never do anything like that! I definitely owe you one if you can fix him up for me!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he muttered, staring down at his feet. How was he supposed to handle getting compliments like that?

“It is!” they placed their toy back on their bed in favor of wrapping their arms around Levi’s middle. “Thank you so much!”

“Whoa, hey! You can’t just d-do that all of a sudden!”

Satan: They quite enjoyed their study dates with Satan. The two of them could sit in amiable silence for hours and just focus on getting their work done. It was peaceful, and Satan never minded if they took a rest on his shoulder

As they struggled to keep their eyes open (a coffee break might be in order soon) they caught sight of something in the margins of Satan’s notebook.

It started as idle pencil marks in the corner of the page. Little spirals that slowly transformed into vines  winding their way down the side. Delicate little flowers soon began to bloom at random intervals until finally, in the bottom corner, Satan was in the middle of doodling a lotus flower.

“That’s so pretty.” they felt Satan jump as they broke the silence.

“What?” he blinked, refocusing. “Oh. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”

“I should have known you were a doodler.” they laughed. “I read somewhere that people who doodle in class actually retain more information.”

“Is that right?” Satan muttered, more to himself than anything. “That explains my notes in class. I wonder if there’s a reason I enjoy drawing outside of a learning environment?”

They nudged him before he got too deep in his own thoughts. “You’re allowed to just have a hobby, Satan. There’s no need to psychoanalyze it so much.”

Asmo: When they had admitted that they had never gotten their nails done, Asmo had wasted no time in whisking them away to his room. He insisted that everyone should have a manicure at least once in their life, sat them down on the chaise lounge in his bedroom and set to work.

Admittedly, they probably should be taking care of their nails better, and it was nice to have someone pamper them a little bit. They hadn’t really been expecting the hand massage at the end.

“Oh, you have earth hands, darling.” Asmo said as he worked his thumb into the center of their palm. “Reliable, stubborn, practical. Fits you to a T!”

“Huh?”

Asmo ignored them, continuing to analyze their hand. “Your love line starts under your index finger. Well, with seven partners, I should hope you’re content with your love life.”

“Asmo, what the hell?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, darling.” Asmo laughed, tracing his finger in a circle in the center of their hand. “I suppose I should ask before I read your palm.”

“Is that what that was?” they asked. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Mm, there’s plenty of things I can do, my dear.” he practically purred. “An old lover of mine was a practiced chiromancer. I always thought it was fascinating, being able to read a person just by the lines on their hands, so I had them teach me. If nothing else, it’s a neat party trick.”

“Wow...” the human murmured, staring at their hand. “What else can you tell?”

Beelzebub and Belphegor: It had been decided long ago that Beel could not be trusted with cooking duty on his own. So the twins always had joint cooking duty.

It had also been decided that Belphegor couldn’t be trusted with waking up for cooking duty, so Lucifer tacked the human on as well.

None of them particularly minded it. Well, Belphie minded it a little, seeing as Beel had to literally fireman carry him to the kitchen. But all three of them worked well as a team.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon for Beel to hum to himself when he cooked. The kitchen was his element, and cooking always seemed to put him in a cheerful mood. It was uncommon, however, for Belphie to join in.

They hadn’t really been paying attention, simply registering the twins as background noise while they focused on their task. But soon, Beel’s humming turned to lyrics in a language that the human didn’t understand, but sent a shiver up their spine anyway.

Beel sang in a smooth baritone voice that they could feel thrumming through their chest. The human found themself closing their eyes and listening, nearly forgetting that they were supposed to be chopping up mandrake root.

They almost chopped their finger off when Belphie joined in.

When they turned around, the twins had their backs facing either other, but they had paused in their work. Both of them wore identical expressions of nostalgia - eyes closed, lips tugged upwards in a soft smile. Belphie’s soft, clear tenor mixed with Beel’s low timbre, and, despite not understanding a single word, the human felt goosebumps rise up their arms.

When they finished the song, the twins opened their eyes and looked at each other over their shoulder. Beel honestly looked like he was going to cry out of sheer joy. 

“It’s been a while since we sang together.” Beel grinned.

“At least a century.” Belphie nodded, shaking his head. “I’m surprised my voice hasn’t broken.”

“I feel like I’m intruding on a family moment, here.” the human muttered. They honestly hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but by the time they realized, it was too late. The twins had turned their gazes on them like they had just stood on the table and started screaming.

“What’re you talking about?” Belphie drawled.

“You are family.” Beel smiled, crossing the kitchen in three strides to ruffle their hair. “So you can’t be intruding.”

They stuck their tongue out at Beel, ducking out from underneath his hand. “Can you two teach me that song?”

[narniaandplowmen]

The Wild Abandoned

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Also on AO3

6773 words.

General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply

Complete

When he arrived back at the foot of the mountain, Geralt most decisively went in the complete opposite direction of Jaskier’s smell. He didn’t hear the animal following him at a safe distance.

* * *

Jaskier didn’t necessarily plan on following Geralt. They just happened to be travelling in the same direction, that was all.

CHAPTER 1 - The Wild Abandoned

Animals following him wasn’t that unusual, all things considered. Most creatures were curious about this strange, not-quite-human being travelling through their territory, but even when Geralt fed them the scraps of his own meal none of them had followed him for - Geralt narrowed his eyes and mentally tallied. For five days, at least. Of which Geralt spent only three asleep, deciding to hurry his travels as his coin ran out. He had heard rumours of Posada looking for a Witcher, and - although he hated himself for it - he hoped none had shown up yet. He did not have to check his purse to know there was only one coin left in it, nor did he need to check his supplies to know they were dwindling. Geralt sighed as he heard the creature following him speed up to catch up with the chestnut mare. Whatever it was, it would be scared away as soon as he arrived in Posada. If there was any lesson Geralt had learned over and over and over again during his time on the Path, it was to never get attached.

In Posada, he met a bard named Jaskier, and his life changed.

Two decades later, on a mountain, half the continent over, his life changed again.

When he arrived back at the foot of the mountain, Geralt most decisively went in the complete opposite direction of Jaskier’s smell.

He knew the smell of humans lingered, but five days, an equal amount of baths in the Gwenllech and three un- and repackings of his supplies later, Geralt could still faintly smell the bard’s distinctive, pinewood, autumn leaves and wolve’s fur smell, although the flowery perfume he usually masked it with was gone.

Geralt tried to blame his surroundings for creating the smell, but he knew there were no pine trees to be found for at least a hundred miles.

It was still the middle of summer as well.

He didn’t hear the animal following him at a safe distance.

* * *

He knew it was still too early to arrive in Kaer Morhen, so although this far North wasn’t his usual territory, he took whichever jobs he could get. The benefit of breaking out of his usual stomping grounds was, aside from the fact that the ‘Butcher of Blaviken’-legend was not tied to his name, that Jaskier’s joyful catchy kind annoying songs hadn’t reached the area either. A group of drowners, two frighteners, a wreight and a cockatrice later, he could almost forget what happened on the mountain.

Almost.

It wasn’t till the beginning of October, after the wreight but before the second frightener, that Geralt noticed he was being followed. The animal seemingly attempted not to get noticed, timing his footsteps at the exact rhythm of the latest Roach, a horse with a surprisingly consistent walk. Geralt did not know how long it had been following him, but that night he purposefully didn’t finish the rabbit he had hunted and roasted, throwing the bones with plenty of meat in the bushes behind him, in the general direction of the sound of softly padded paws touching the forest floor.

The next day, the bones and meat were still there.

The sound, however, was gone.

He tried not to let the overwhelming silence bother him.

Three days later, Geralt was almost convinced his offer had scared the creature away. Either that, or the pouring rain had caused the animal to give up on his curious pursuit, and find shelter somewhere in the cavernous mountains. The resulting floods paid Geralt’s next meal and shelter as he took care of the drowners plaguing one of the small Northern villages. They pay had been small, but the citizens thanked him for arriving so quickly. For a moment he feared that the villagers would burst into an all-too-familiar song, but instead they told him a neighbouring place needed his help as well.

After fighting the second freightner, the now-familiar sound of the animal’s steps returned. So did the rains, and Geralt decided to cut this season short and turn his meandering route into a direct journey to Kaer Morhen, the closest thing to a home he knew, except for- No. The closest thing to a home he knew. Geralt stared at the deer-made path ahead of him and banned all thoughts from a certain bard out of his head.

* * *

The creature, whatever it was, kept following him. If his medallion hadn’t stayed silent, Geralt would almost be worried. It was far away from its own territory now that the towering, deciduous-treed and cavernous Dragon Mountains had been replaced by the equally towering but pine-treed, steep-cliffed Blue Mountains. The creature hadn’t accepted a single offer of food, or shelter, or warmth. Not even when Geralt, silently cursing his own idiocy, had called out into the forest that the food thrown away was intended for this mysterious pursuer.

Geralt almost considered travelling the long way so he would pass through the planes, simply to see if the creature would follow, would allow himself to be seen, but that morning he woke up covered in a thin layer of snow.

He saddled Roach, saw his latest offering of food was once again ignored, and hastened his journey towards Kaer Morhen.

The creature followed, even during the treacherous journey towards the Witchers’ Castle.

Geralt almost resented the idea of wintering inside, since the creature would surely leave before spring.

‘You can’t follow me inside, you know. A castle isn’t fit for wild animals to thrive,’ Geralt had called into the dark two nights before arriving home. ‘You should go back. To your territory. To your family, if you have one. And if not, I am sure that you will be able to start one, if you are strong enough to follow me this far.’

His reply, as usual, had been silence.

The next day, the creature followed still.

* * *

‘Geralt! You’re uncharacteristically early,’ Vesemir greeted him at the gate.

‘Stayed North this time. I- I was already on my way back, simply hurried my way when the snow started.’

‘You were on your way back? Did that bard of yours finally take that teaching position Oxenfurt has been begging him to accept?’

Geralt placed his bags on the stable floor a little more violently than needed.

‘He’s not my bard. And I don’t care what he is doing right now. It’s not my concern.’

That evening, after a bath in the hot springs and a nice bowl of soup eaten next to the safety and warmth of the fire, the entire story came out, and Vesimir’s heart bled for his young pup.

* * *

Geralt didn’t mention the strange creature that had been following him until Eskel arrived two weeks later, mentioning that he had been followed for the last days of his journey home.

He wasn’t jealous at all when Lambert, arriving five days later, reported he had seen a wolf-like creature from a distance. Nor did he find an excuse to leave the dinner table to train his frustration away when Lambert said he had even fed the creature, for it looked haggard and ragged.

* * *

They didn’t speak of the creature till mid-December, when the three men went out into the snowy wilderness to hunt for fresh meat.

The creature was still there, following them from a distance.

‘If that thing ate every living thing on the mountain, we might not catch any prey at all,’ Eskel wondered aloud after two hours of fruitless searching.

‘Well, it clearly didn’t eat every living thing on this mountain,’ Lambert replied, to a frowning Eskel.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, we’re still here.’

‘I would barely call you ‘living’,’ Eskel retorted, steadying his stance just in time for Lambert to pounce on him.

‘Shh guys!’ Geralt hissed, focussing on a sudden burst of sound in the forest. A running predator, a fleeing prey,  breaking branches, noises rapidly going louder until CRACK a frightened deer broke through a frozen bush, leaping over Eskel, a panicked cry as the Witcher grabbed her leg and pulled her down.

‘It does feel pretty unfair,’ Lambert mused as they dragged the carcass back to the castle. ‘This isn’t our prey, we stole it from that wolf. Should we, like, leave a part of it as some sort of thanks?’

Geralt ignored his two brothers but did hold out his bloodied sword when they decided to leave a part of the animal behind.

The next morning, the Witchers were woken up by a loud howl. When Geralt looked outside, he saw a bloody trail leading from the forest to the castle gate, where their offering was returned. ‘Looks like we didn’t steal its prey after all.’

* * *

The knowledge that, outside of the thick, stone walls, there was some creature looking out for them, made it a strange winter. From the brief glances in the dark evening, they had concluded it must be a wolf, but no reasoning for its seeming loyalty could be found. There was no magic, no curses or spells, no laws of surprise offered to pregnant wolves that could explain the presence of the animal. It didn’t seem to want shelter, and offered food was only touched occasionally. Any attempts at luring it out of the forest failed, as the wolf seemed to know when they were watching.

Geralt didn’t attack his brothers more aggressively during their training when the only consistency they could find was that the wolf didn’t seem to want to accept anything from Geralt, nor show itself when Geralt was nearby.

He also didn’t resent Vesemir when he told them one morning that he had seen the wolf prowling around the castle, and that when he had spoken to it, it had sat down and listened, its head slightly tilted and bright blue eyes surprisingly intelligent.

And that spring, when he travelled south and heard the creature following him, he most certainly didn’t feel relieved.

That was, not after he heard the news that the famous bard Jaskier had gone missing, hadn’t been seen in almost a year. Rumours were that the last time he was spotted, was in the presence of a certain white-haired witcher.

His arrival in larger cities was met with thrown rocks and angry insults.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be called a butcher and a murderer.

It was yet another reminder never to get attached.

The first coherent thought in Jaskier’s mind as he carefully made his way down the mountain was his internal surprise that he wasn’t crying. In all the songs of heartbreak and rejection, there were tears, heartbroken cries of anguish and dramatic falling to the knees. But the reality was that Jaskier was empty. Completely and utterly empty. For once he was devoid of words, devoid of song, devoid of poetic descriptions, laughs, chatter, of everything that made him the apparently so burdensome travel companion as he was.

The second coherent thought in Jaskier’s mind as he gathered his stuff from the inn and made his way into the forest was that he was lucky he never showed his more useful side to the Witcher. If he had, his broken heart would now most likely be literally torn to pieces. Geralt didn’t kill monsters, only if they hurt others.

And isn’t that what he did?

* * *

It took him half a day to find a body of water large and still enough to reflect his entire length. On the edge of the cave’s pool, lit by a hole in the ceiling letting in the midday sunlight, he started taking out his belongings, dividing them into three neat piles of ‘keep’, ‘toss’ and ‘hide’. The cavern itself gave ample opportunity for ‘hide’, and whatever he deemed unworthy of keeping was tossed in the ice-cold water. Whilst he waited for the stillness of the water to return, he methodically packed the rest of his belongings, taking in each item with precision.

A spider building his web in the opening between the light bright world of the insects and the darkness of the cave the eight-legged creature preferred, looked down at the strange man below him. He seemed to stare into the water for an eternity, before the form shifted, turned, and ran.

* * *

He didn’t necessarily plan on following Geralt. They just happened to be travelling in the same direction, that was all. Sure, there were quicker ways to reach the undiscovered regions north of Haakland, but those weren’t safe. Passing through planes and cities in this shape would certainly cause his end.

Jaskier told himself that travelling as a human would only slow him down.

He told himself that he couldn’t perform with this emptiness inside.

He knew that was nonsense, he knew he could act, pretend, and nobody would notice.

He followed Geralt anyway.

* * *

It was almost as if the past two decades hadn’t happened. It was almost as if he was still a young wolf, on his way back home after receiving his education, following a mysterious rider smelling of adventure and death and destiny.

Like last time, it took Geralt an embarrassingly long time to notice his presence. Unlike last time, he had gotten quite good at timing his footsteps to match that of Roach’s. And unlike last time, Geralt had thrown meat and bones in his direction.

Jaskier refused to eat. He could take care of himself, without being a burden.

He made sure to take a different route that night, knowing the direction in which Geralt was headed. He was practised with catching up to the Witcher by now, he was almost surprised that he had been able to find the man at all. If he was the cause of all of Geralt’s suffering, you’d think someone with Witcher training would be able to avoid him.

Then again, you’d think someone with Witcher training would know what he was.

* * *

After fighting a lost garkain without Geralt noticing a thing, Jaskier decides to follow the man for the Witcher’s own safety.

He does not allow himself to think about why Geralt is so out of form that he doesn’t notice a garkain following him for a full day, or the fight happening less than fifty miles from his camp. Instead, Jaskier blames the rain for Geralt’s sudden ineptitude.

He rejoins Geralt after he exits the village where he, according to two children playing witcher-and-monster a little too far into the woods, has defeated a freightener. He ignores every offering of food the Witcher throws in his direction. Not even when the man stupidly yells into the forest that the food was meant for him. There are enough squirrels and rabbits to hunt himself.

He never allows the Witcher to see him.

* * *

They are about a two-days journey away from Kaer Morhen when Geralt addresses him again. ‘You can’t follow me inside, you know. A castle isn’t fit for wild animals to thrive. You should go back. To your territory. To your family, if you have one. And if not, I am sure that you will be able to start one, if you are strong enough to follow me this far.’

If Jaskier were human, he’d laugh. ‘What do you think I am doing,’ he thinks instead. ‘Where do you think I am going? My territory is not where you finally noticed me following you. My territory is here, with you.’

It’s that last thought that makes him halt. His territory isn’t the Haakland’s mountains anymore, it isn’t the pack he left behind, nor is it Oxenfurt, nor is it any court he has performed at. His territory for the past twenty years has been Geralt.

But Geralt’s territory has never been him.

He follows Geralt to the top of the mountain and then makes his way down to await the Witcher’s brothers.

* * *

Eskel notices he is being followed after an hour. Lambert after fifteen minutes. As some sort of price, he allows the Witcher to see him, for just a bit.

He graciously accepts the offered food. He stays on the mountain, unable to leave his territory.

He knows it’s pathetic, he knows he should leave, he knows he will easily be able to take up the position as Alpha and lead his family through Haakland and beyond.

He stays near Geralt anyways.

* * *

It is well into December when he hears three pairs of footprints and silent banter echo through the forest he has now gotten to know so well. The Witchers, out for a hunt. He shrugs, listens where they are headed, and turns to run the other side.

He follows them, of course. And when he sees a lost deer that could feed him for the next month to come, he chases it towards them.

He wastes his precious energy that night dragging their pitiful offering back to the castle’s gate. An Alpha takes care of his pack, not the other way around.

He only eats from their offered food thrice. Twice out of politeness, and once because he is desperate. There isn’t much game and the mountain is cold.

* * *

He doesn’t approach the castle when he knows Geralt is watching. He knows the others have seen glances of him, and he secretly wonders if Geralt is frustrated that he is the only one who hasn’t. He wonders if Geralt has even noticed that he is the only one who hasn’t seen him.

In mid-February, during a particularly bright night, Vesemir talks to him. It’s mostly stuff Jaskier already knows: about who and what the Witchers are, about their history, about their home. But it is also things he doesn’t know. Vesemir tells about Lambert’s love for a Witcher from a different school, about Eskel’s insecurities regarding his scars, and finally, right before dawn starts to break, Vesemir tells him about Geralt. About how he most tortured of the children adopted into in Kaer Morhen managed to find joy on the Path in the shape of a brightly-coloured bard, who followed him and cared for him relentlessly for twenty years. About how he could finally let go of the heavy burden of his responsibilities, how he could finally see it as a joy rather than an oppressive fate. About how he realised the mortality of this human bard when he visited a village just as the little boy whose life he once saved was being carried to his grave by his grandchildren. About how all of the Witchers learned to never get attached. About the danger of the wolf being there, for it is clear the inhabitants of the ancient castle are getting attached to his weird loyalty.

That spring, Jaskier follows Geralt on the Path. He is his territory, after all.

Jaskier is too forgiving. When Geralt exits the first big city with wounds and quickly forming bruises, he is once again reminded the rest of the world is not.

[eugene-not-flynn]

rooftop

word count: 1993

Summary: The night before he marries Rapunzel, Eugene sits on the palace roof and finds himself with unexpected company. Eugene-centric. 

Warnings: brief mention/gesture to Rapunzel’s abuse, some discussion of Eugene’s upbringing as an orphan, self-doubt and tangential themes, Eugene is not as confident as he seems in himself but he gets some reassurance, dialogue-heavy,  introspective for Eugene and his relationship to Rapunzel, overall v soft, Eugene almost cries but doesn’t. 

A/N: Basically, I decided there were elements of Eugene and his relationship to this character that the canon content doesn’t really address much, and I really wanted to explore potential for their dynamic. 

...

Eugene liked the palace roof, especially at night.

He couldn’t explain why, exactly. He supposes the habit had started when he and Rapunzel had first arrived at the palace. Eugene hadn’t slept particularly well those first several weeks; nightmares that didn’t involve a knife in his gut usually were filled with Rapunzel’s muffled scream. Add that to the fact that Eugene’s body hadn’t yet caught on to the whole ‘it’s okay to sleep near royal guards’ idea, and Eugene didn’t get much sleep at first. The roof had been one of the few places in the palace that he’d known how to get to already, thanks to his escapade with the Stabbington Brothers. It’d also had the added appeal of the promise of fresh air and quiet.

Even when the nightmares eventually eased and his fight-or-flight stopped kicking in every time so much as saw a guard, Eugene found himself drawn to the roof. He liked the near bird’s-eye view of the kingdom, and even in the dark of night, the stars just seemed brighter to him up here. The late summer air breezes through loose strands of his brown hair and Eugene takes a deep breath as tension eases from his shoulders.

“Wedding jitters?”

Eugene jumps at the unexpected voice, glancing over his shoulder. It’s well past midnight. He hadn’t expected anyone to be up here. And even if he had, the last person he expected to interrupt his evening was the queen.

“Your Majesty,” Eugene says quickly, moving to push himself to his feet before Queen Arianna stops him by lifting her hand. She’s in the purple gown she’d been wearing earlier in the day, but her hair is loose from its usual half-pulled-back regal style. It is almost startling to see her so… normal.

“Please,” she says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She nods to the space beside him. “Can I join you?”

“Of course.”

Eugene sits up a bit more as the queen settles herself beside him. For a long moment, neither of them says anything. Eugene listens to the quiet hoot of an owl and the very distant chirp of crickets. The thumb of his left hand skims his ring finger almost absent-mindedly.

“Did you ever learn to find constellations?” the queen asks after a moment.

Eugene glances at her, then follows her gaze to the sky above them. “A few,” he answers, realizing very suddenly that he can’t remember the last time he had a one-on-one conversation with her Majesty the Queen. It makes him suddenly nervous. “Some of the older kids at the orphanage used to use them to tell stories.”

The queen hums. When Eugene glances over quickly, she’s smiling faintly. “When my sister and I were children, we’d make up stories for the stars. It wasn’t until I was older that I learned some of the actual mythology.”

Eugene glances down at his hands. “The first time I’d read anything formal on the stars was—” he falters, “was when Rapunzel and I were first in Corona.”

“It is strange to think that Rapunzel was within our city walls for an entire day before we’d even realized.”

A part of Eugene wonders quietly if perhaps Rapunzel might’ve been sooner reunited with her parents if they hadn’t been ducking and dodging guards left and right that day. Even though none of them—not even Rapunzel—knew at the time that she was the Lost Princess, Eugene remembers how the Queen had taken one look at her daughter and seemed to just… know.

“We didn’t know,” Eugene says, “who Rapunzel was.”

“I know,” she replies easily. “In a strange way, I think it was best that Rapunzel experienced our kingdom as a member of it, as part of the city’s community, before she knew she was to rule it.”

Eugene’s mouth quirks fondly at the memory. He remembers the way her tongue poked out between her lips when she’d painted the crest of Corona in the street. He remembers her gasp of wonder when he’d showed her Corona’s library. And then, of course, how she’d managed to get an entire city square full of people to join her in a dance. Even Eugene himself, who hadn’t danced in many years.

“She really fell in love with the people of Corona that day,” Eugene tells her softly.

Eugene senses more than sees the way the queen glances at him. “From what she’s told me, it wasn’t just the people of Corona she fell in love with that day.”

Eugene feels his cheeks warm, and he’s suddenly grateful for the cover of night. His thumb skims his left ring finger again, his heart giving a small squeeze at the words.

He clears his throat. “She, ah—she wasn’t the only one.”

The queen hums again, but when Eugene looks over at her, her smile is soft and her gaze is trained out over her kingdom. “Are you nervous for tomorrow, Eugene?”

He pauses before he answers. He looks back out over the kingdom. If the queen had asked him at any other point during the day, he’s pretty sure he would have answered immediately. Of course not! But the night makes him want to be more fully honest. Eugene wonders if the tiredness lowers his defenses. Or if the dark offers an illusion of safety. Or if the quiet of the world in nightfall forces a gravity to the words spoken in it. Eugene doesn’t know.

But he’d be lying if he said that there wasn’t a part of him that was nervous. Though now, it was more about remembering his vows and the toast the groom was expected to deliver. The details. The only detail Eugene wasn’t nervous about was the rings, as he’d put Max and Pascal in charge of those. But the idea of getting married? To Rapunzel? That… made a warm, fluttery feeling expand in Eugene’s chest that he knew to be excitement, not nerves.

“Not for the reasons I’d thought I’d be,” he answers eventually. “If you’d asked me five years ago if I’d be nervous the night before my wedding, I would probably laugh at you first.”

“Marriage wasn’t something you wanted?”

“Well, it…” He sighs. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it. It was more… “I wouldn’t have considered it as something meant for me.”

Marriage meant several things needed to be true. He’d have to want to settle down. He’d have to fall in love. And he’d have to have that person fall in love with him in return. Five years ago, none of those things had seemed attainable for him. He hadn’t even dared to dream that perhaps they could be some day. Instead, he’d convinced himself that security could be found in the accumulation of wealth. After all, it seemed to have worked for Flynnigan Rider.

But then he’d met Rapunzel. And everything he’d convinced himself of had been turned upside down.

“Something must have changed your mind.”

“Rapunzel,” Eugene answers without hesitation. “Rapunzel changed everything.”

Queen Arianna chuckles softly. “Yes, I seem to remember you had been a wanted thief prior to your return with my daughter.”

Eugene ducks his head sheepishly, turning his gaze to distant, silhouette figures of citizens moving through the streets of Corona below them. He can feel the careful gaze of the queen on him and it makes him feel, not for the first time, uncharacteristically self-conscious. He knew how the king felt about him, but Eugene had always had a harder time reading the queen.

“Well, what can I say?” Eugene rubs the back of his neck. “Rapunzel brought out the best in me. She continues to do so, every day.”

There’s a brief, thoughtful pause. “You know, I’ve never truly known my daughter without you there too. But I can see how you bring out the best in her, too.”

That brings Eugene up short. It certainly hadn’t been what he expected. “That’s… kind of you, Your Highness,” he decides. It’s a nice thought, Eugene thinks, and one that he desperately wants to believe. But Eugene can’t help the haze of self-doubt that lingers in the back of his mind, formed from years of experience and countless voices insisting he wasn’t enough for his parents, wasn’t enough to be adopted, wasn’t enough—

“You may not always believe it,” the queen interrupts as if she can read his mind. Eugene startles, then stares at her as she continues. “But it’s true. Rapunzel doesn’t talk much about her childhood, and when she does, we both know she tends to gloss over a lot of the… unpleasant details. But from the little that she has shared, it’s become clear that for a long time, Rapunzel didn’t have someone who truly believed in her. Who looked out for her in a way that encouraged her strength and independence, rather than hiding her away.”

“I—”

“You believed in her when others doubted,” she presses on, “You believed in her when doubt in herself was all she’d been taught. You looked at my daughter and… saw there was more in her.”

Eugene looks at the queen, wide-eyed. He opens his mouth to reply (because of course, of course he believed in Rapunzel, he always had and always would) but words get lost somewhere on the way up his throat, which is growing unexpectedly tight.

The queen meets his eyes, her green eyes sparkling in the dark. “You two bring out the best in each other, Eugene.”

Eugene is certain now that his face must be bright red. He wonders if she can tell in the dark. “I, um… I…” he pauses, then swallows thickly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The corner of the queen’s lips curl up in a soft smile. “I only speak the truth. Frederic and I fought against all odds to keep hope alive that our daughter would one day come back. It was shock enough when she did. I never, in a million years, would have expected that on the same day I get my daughter back, I’d also be gaining a son.”

Eugene freezes, his heart giving an unexpectedly warm squeeze.

“I know you are in your twenties,” she adds, oblivious to the way Eugene’s eyes are beginning to sting the faintest bit, “and I know you spent your childhood believing yourself to be an orphan. I know you’ve recently been reunited with your birth father. I know all of that, and I apologize if I am crossing any lines, but… should you find yourself wanting a mom, Eugene… just know that I already consider you my son.”

The edges of Eugene’s vision begin to blur and he blinks quickly to clear it. He had spent his entire life either wishing for a mom or berating himself as weak for wanting one in the first place. He is 26 but he feels very suddenly like he is a small child again, wondering—for the millionth time—what it might feel like to be hugged by his mom.

He should say something, he realizes, but his throat is still too tight for all the things he thinks he should say.

When he does eventually speak, his voice sounds a bit thick even to his own ears. “Well, I… That is, when Rapunzel and I were looking at Corona wedding customs, we saw that the bride and her father usually share in a dance, followed by, um, the groom and his mother. We, ah… we were going to forgo that last part, but… and I know it’s short notice, but… that is, Your Highness—”

“Eugene,” she interrupts, but gently, “I would love to share in the mother-son dance with you.”

Eugene releases a breath and smiles. “Great.” He swallows again, then pushes himself to his feet. “Well, big day tomorrow. I should probably get some rest.”

She nods. “Goodnight, Eugene.”

Eugene’s smile grows a bit more. “Goodnight, mom.”

[blog-of-the-wildd]

i’ll make it 4 words if you don’t mind <3

star of my heart with romantic revalink! thanks!!

Star of my heart

“I’m cold,” Revali said.

Even in Hebra, amidst the ever falling snow and the peaks of ice, the Rito remained warm, covered with feathers. However, Revali lied anyway, expecting Link to decipher the truth under his words.  

The white, delicate feathers that hung over the roost tembled, signaling the beginning of a storm. The wood of the flight range creaked. It was an old structure, built by the Rito of a past long gone. Inside, quiet flames engulfed the cooking pot at the center, warming the place with a comfortable heat. 

Link, making sure their meal cooked appropriately, didn’t reply to Revali, perhaps too absorbed in his task. 

After a moment, he met his gaze, his far-seeing blue eyes unwavering. 

Link had thin sandy hair and a small mouth. His face was dotted with freckles, product of hours spent under the sun. He was of juvenile features, though there was an edge to them. His boyish air hid the truth, for Link was the deathly Hylian Champion.

“Cold?” he repeated, slowly.

Revali looked away, tempted to hide his face under his wings. 

“Cold,” he said. 

Link’s gaze drifted to the pot. He stared at it for a moment, as if waiting for it to tell him what to do. Outside, the wintry gales howled, drowning the gentle crackling of the flames. Yet, as tempestuous as the weather was, the flight range was warm. 

“I’m not,” Link said, gesturing to his clothes. He was clad in the snowquill armour, which was made of feathers. Revali scowled, for he understood what Link was alluding to.

Link sat next to him anyway and, in a gesture that was becoming more natural with every passing day, Revali wrapped a wing around his shoulders. 

Link closed his eyes and leaned his head against his shoulder. Revali raised his wing carefully, caressing Link’s weather-beaten face. Neither said anything, too embarrassed (or comfortable) to shatter the silence. Revali melted into Link’s touch, letting a sort of peace take over him. 

“This is nice,” Link said, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Yes, it’s decent,” Revali said

Link laughed. Revali felt the push of the boy’s giggles against his chest, which made him smile.

 “You are decent,” Link said, lips curled in a goofy smile.

“Indeed I am, unlike some hell-raisers here--”

Link straightened up and looked at Revali with defying eyes. They stared at each other for a couple of beats, the tension purposefully building between them. Finally, Link poked Revali’s chest, eyes bright as if he’d come up with the best insult, “Oh really? Well, you’re dirty.”

Link hadn’t finished speaking when Revali burst into laughter. Link looked confused, expecting Revali to be deeply affected by his words (rightfully so; after all, Revali had a tendency to be offended by the faintest insult). 

“I’m not,” Revali finally said, breathless from laughing, “You, on the other hand, smell unwashed.”

“Unwashed…” Link repeated, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Link looked at Revali, far-seeing blue eyes staring at him. Revali forced himself to look back. “Are you... asking me to take a bath?”

“Yes,” Revali replied mindlessly. Link nodded, eyes hard with resolution, and got up. Revali frowned, reaching a wing in his direction,  “Where are you going?”

Link paid him no mind. He leaned over to check on the cooking pot. Satisfied, he turned to his sword and picked it up swiftly.

“To the lake.”

“Not right now, you dunderhead,” Revali snapped. “The lake is frozen. It's winter.” 

Link’s resolve faltered. He placed his weapon where it had been and sat on the wooden floor, letting his attention slip back to the pot. Revali almost called him back, but he dared not. What would Link think? He would judge him needy and clingy, both adjectives that Revali did not want associated with him. 

He didn’t want Link to know how much--  how important he had become in his life, which was ridiculous because, well, he had. Why hide such an obvious truth? He didn’t know, but when he thought about telling Link, he felt as if tight claws were clutching his heart. 

Maybe he wasn’t ready, which honestly was stupid. Or maybe he was nervous. A love confession is a big deal, after all. It is giving the key of one’s heart to someone, being willing to be vulnerable, and that--

That terrified Revali. 

So he said nothing, watching Link cook their meal with a gentleness he had just recently noticed. Despite all, Link wasn’t a man of war, or, at least, on occasions he didn’t seem to be. His eyes were soft in the quiet moments. 

He was so caught in his web of thoughts he didn’t notice Link approaching him. He held out a bowl of soup, which Revali accepted after a brief hesitation. Link sat next to him, though this time their shoulders barely touched. 

They ate in silence, watching the flames embrace the pot. 

The soup had a sour taste. It was good, though never had Revali eaten something of similar flavour. Link sighed happily and placed his empty bowl on the floor, eyeing him curiously. 

“This is nice,” Link said. Revali looked at him, and to his surprise, a bittersweet smile was curving his lips, as if he were already longing for the present moment. “I never get to-- the life at the castle is so hectic.”

He looked down at his intertwined hands, rubbing his thumbs together. They were calloused, scarred with traces of past battles. Revali wanted to hold them.

“I imagine,” he said. 

“I like it here,” Link said suddenly. He took a shaky breath before continuing, “I like… I like Rito village.”

Even though his lips quivered with nervousness, there was nothing spectacular about his words. Rito village was a tourist attraction for Hylians. It wasn’t a surprise Link found its views fascinating. 

“You like that everyone is willing to invite the hero to dinner,” Revali said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. 

Link looked at him with wide eyes and laughed, the sound sincere and simple. Revali felt his chest tighten, overcome with emotion. 

Eventually, the laughter ceased. An oddly peaceful moment followed. Link wore a loose smile on his lips, though it lingered only for a moment before setting into a neutral, tight expression. Revali ate slowly, savouring his meal. The sun was starting to set, descending into the horizon and casting dim shadows over the land. 

Link extended his hands in front of the flames, seeking its warmth. 

“Why did you hate me?” Link asked, voice small.

Revali looked up, astonishment contorting his face. He opened his beak to say something, but closed it again tightly. Even though he had written in his diary myriads of resentful entries about the Hylian Champion, he had never been asked to speak them out loud. It wasn’t as if-- Revali did not hate Link anymore. He wasn’t sure when his anger had dissipated, but it had. 

It was weird. He knew exactly what had vexed him about Link, and in fact, he still considered his reasoning to be extremely sound. What Revali didn’t have was the drive to despise Link anymore. Instead of hate, a new emotion had found its way to his heart, even more passionate than anger.

“I did not hate you,” Even as the words left his mouth, Revali knew he was speaking bullshit. Link glanced at him, incredulous. Revali merely averted his gaze. What? Would he have preferred the cold, bare truth?  “Do you really care about that when everything has--?”

“I do,” Link said in an outburst of emotion uncharacteristic of his stoic self. He glared at Revali, the icy stare penetrating. They stared at each other for what felt minutes; Revali trying to keep a neutral facade, Link scowling at him.

Link was the first to break eye contact. The spark of fury in his eyes dissolved, and an expression of dullness settled on his face. 

“I do,” he repeated, quietly.

“If you started to hate me again I--” Link gulped and forced himself to continue, voice hoarse, “do you hate me?”

“No. I don’t--” Revali paused, thinking. There were a lot of things he could say to Link. He could apologise. He could open his heart and hope Link wouldn’t turn away in disgust. Or he could… say the truth, even if five words weren’t enough to convey the extent of his feelings.  “I don’t hate you.”

Link looked down. There was no emotion on his face. “A hollow knight,” Revali thought, though he knew better. 

“You are the star of Hyrule,” Revali said, for the sake of filling the silence. “Everyone speaks about how gifted and talented you are. The King--”

Link shook his head. He said something, but his voice was so faint Revali barely heard it. 

Sorry.

“Don’t,” Revali said. “You work as hard as the rest.”

“I’m just-- an assbird,” Revali said. 

Link snorted.

The knot of tension in Revali’s stomach became undone. The silence became lighter, more bearable. Revali finished his meal and gazed to the exterior of the roost, where ruthless gales howled as if they wanted to tear the world apart. Revali frowned, pondering if his gale would ever be as relentless as the ones of nature.

He was determined to make it so.

“I don’t know what Hyrule thinks of you,” Link mused. Revali was tempted to reply he wasn’t thinking hard enough. Hyrule viewed him as a sidekick, a secondary character whose only purpose was to make the leads shine brighter. Sometimes, he even thought Hyrule didn’t think of him at all.

Link placed his hand atop of Revali’s wing, letting his touch linger.

“I don’t know what Hyrule thinks of you,” he repeated quietly, “but… you’re the star of my heart.”

Link smiled nervously, averting his gaze. Revali couldn’t muster an answer, as much as he attempted to. What had that been? Link had never-- had that been a fucking pick up line? No. It must have been a compliment. Link seldom gave them, but it wasn’t discardable. After all, Revali was a skilled archer-- the most skilled of all. 

“Was that good?” Link asked awkwardly. His face was  beet red. He sounded nervous, anxious even. Link fiddled awkwardly with his hands, looking at them as if they were the single most interesting thing in the world. 

Oh.

So Link had been flirting. The realisation didn’t scandalise him. It was as if he knew, not because he was arrogant, but because their relationship had been headed in that direction or a long time. Neither of them dared to admit it, though, and that was okay.

“Link,” Revali said, masking his emotions, “Why did you ask that? It ruined the moment.”

“The Rito don’t blush. How would I know otherwise?”

Revali stared at Link, raising an eyebrow. The Rito, contrary to Hylian beliefs, were an expressive species. If Link didn’t notice the small details, he would have time to do so. They would have time to learn to be with each other.

“It was good,” Revali admitted, almost begrudgingly.

Revali rarely allowed himself to think of the present. His entire existence had been aimed to the future. “Right now I’m nocking the arrow,” he thought to himself, “Someday, I will shoot.”  He only marched forward, for if he looked back, he was scared to see nothing behind him. He had dedicated his life to a success he couldn’t yet grasp. 

But for the first time in a while, Revali let himself just be. 

Outside, the chilly currents blew. The sun had set, and shadows had spilled over Hebra. Link was by his side, looking at him with those piercing eyes of his. 

Revali didn’t love Link, not yet. However, he could love Link. Tomorrow. Someday. The possibility was both exciting and terrifying. If he allowed his emotions to bloom, if he opened his heart, their relationship would flourish. There was no pressure, no goal other than to enjoy each other’s company. They could take it slow, opt for the small steps rather than a leap.

After all, they had time.