#especially not with the Secret Santa on my plate

[tj-dragonblade]

#14 for the spotify wrapped game!!!!!!!!

14 - The Islander by Nightwish

This is a longtime favorite song, but I've never necessarily thought about it for fic. So I pondered a bit, and pondered some more, and got an idea, and then it ran away with me. Oops.

Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard He lightens the beacon, light at the end of world Showing the way, lighting hope in their hearts The ones on their travels homeward from afar

On an island at the end of the Space Between Worlds, there sits a lighthouse. Many are the doorways on this island, many are the worlds which can be reached from this twilight convergence, and the lighthouse stands steadfast in their midst, shrouded in perpetual night. The landscape shifts endlessly, never the same for any two travelers, and the lighthouse guides each to the doorway that they seek.

The Lighthouse Keeper is old, and young, and ageless; he is male and female and neither, human and inhuman both, everything and nothing at once. He would appear different to every person who looks upon him, but none ever do and he gives it no thought.

The Lighthouse Keeper is a solitary being, devoted to his duty; he keeps the light burning, keeps travelers on their intended paths. This is his purpose. This is why he exists. Travelers are barely aware that the lighthouse is there, and that is as it should be. Travelers do not enter the lighthouse.

Until, one day, someone does.

"Well met, Stranger!" the Traveler calls, hand raised in greeting, and the Lighthouse Keeper can only stare.

"You should not be here," is what he says at last.

"I'm sorry for intruding, then," the Traveler replies, "only I pass by your lighthouse time and time again, and I had wished to give you my thanks for your steadfast guidance! I'll be on my way!"

"No one enters the lighthouse," is what the Keeper says next, for he still cannot fathom this anomaly.

"Oh, well. Perhaps I'll pop in to say hello again next time I pass," the Traveler says then, and the words are steeped in something which might be pity or might be curiosity, and the Keeper watches the Traveler depart and wonders at the oddity of the meeting.

It vexes him, this impossibility made possible. Travelers do not perceive the fullness of the lighthouse. It lights their way from beneath their conscious mind, guiding them through the perpetual twilight on the paths they cannot see to the doorway that they need. It should not be possible for a traveler to enter.

And yet.

"Hello, Stranger!" the Traveler calls, some passage of time later. "A pleasure to see you again!"

"I do not understand," says the Keeper, perplexed. "How is it that you are here?"

"I was passing by again," says the Traveler, "and since I told you last time I'd say hello—"

"You should not know of this place," the Keeper interrupts. "It is not possible."

"But you're right here," the Traveler protests, "your lighthouse is right here, every time I pass by. You always help me see which way I need to go."

"None see this place, none know of this place," the Keeper insists.

"Except you, of course," says the Traveler. "And me?"

"And you," the Keeper agrees, his worldview shifting to accept the undeniability of this truth. "Well met, Traveler."

The Traveler visits each time he passes, a mere exchange of greetings at the start, pleasantries that the Lighthouse Keeper at first finds tedious; but more and more they become appreciated as they continue to occur. And when the Traveler begins to share details of his travels, the Keeper finds that he appreciates this as well.

"I am bound for the shores of Toor Naghen," says the Traveler, "to ply my trade as a sailor awhile."

"May the seas bring good fortune to you," the Keeper replies, pouring tea into a pair of small china cups that had appeared in the lighthouse kitchen two visits ago.

"The mountains of Vanaheim call to me," the Traveler confides when next he passes through. "I don't know what awaits me there, but it will surely be worth the journey."

"Most assuredly," the Keeper agrees, and offers a tentative hint of a smile in parting.

"Have you ever seen the first spring blooms in Tír na nÓg?" the Traveler asks at their next meeting, eyes shining. "Only, you seem like a person who appreciates beauty, and I have never seen anything that could compare."

The Keeper shakes his head and gazes across the table, where the soft golden-brown aura of the Traveler brings life to the grey of the lighthouse keep, where the light in his eyes and the warmth of his smile chase the chill from the whole of the empty room.

Yes, he appreciates beauty.

"This is for you," his Traveler announces on his next visit. "The artisans in Shangri-la, they do remarkable work, and…it made me think of you."

It is a piece of dark stone, masterfully hewn to cylindrical smoothness, a brilliant bluish gem fixed in the narrower end so that it does suggest a lighthouse, in its most basic shapes.

"You are kind," the Keeper says, closing his hand around the stone, and his Traveler's smile only grows warmer.

And so the time passes, his Traveler coming and going and growing no older, full of stories and wonders and beautiful things from all manner of worlds that he shares with the Lighthouse Keeper, who grows quietly ever more fond of his visitor.

"Do you never leave this place?" asks his Traveler, when next they meet.

"Who would tend the lighthouse, were I to go?" replies the Keeper, serenely, but the question strikes him deeply. He has been the Lighthouse Keeper since the beginning of everything; he has always been here. He is the lighthouse and the lighthouse is him. This is his duty; this is his function.

But sometimes, he is. So tired.

"Have you no one to share your burden, then?" his Traveler inquires, kindly, "no one to ease your loneliness?"

The Lighthouse Keeper is stung, unduly, by his Traveler's perception, and he bares his teeth to hide the wound. "You dare suggest I have need of companionship?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," his Traveler confirms, with aching sincerity in his voice, and the Keeper is incensed.

"What need have I of company, of one such as you?" he sneers, vicious and cruel. "Begone, and leave me in peace." And he retreats to the top of his tower, where the perpetual moon shines upon him, alone.

His Traveler leaves him be, for a time, and the warmth he had brought to the lighthouse begins to fade. The Keeper laments that loss, laments the creeping chill that had never troubled him in all the long eons of his duty but is now unbearable for having known the warmth he might have in its stead. Still, when his Traveler at long last returns, his pride does not permit that the Keeper bend.

"My friend, please, let me apologize," his Traveler begs, but the Keeper refuses to see him.

"You are unwelcome here," he declares, and tells himself it is satisfaction that he feels when his Traveler departs at last, spirits low.

It is not so long a wait before his Traveler again returns. "My friend," he begs once more, "do not turn me away, let me make amends—"

"You are unwelcome here," the Keeper repeats, refusing to open his door, and weeps in the cold of his empty keep when his Traveler finally retreats.

A third time his Traveler returns, with little of hope in his bearing. He is weary, bedraggled, but his call at the door is resolute. "My friend, I beg of you. Let me make right the offense I have given, please do not turn me away."

The Keeper moves to speak, to tell him once more that he is unwelcome, but his heart stays his tongue. If he speaks it a third time, then it will be true, and…the Keeper is prideful, and unyielding, but…he does not wish for this to be made true. After all. His Traveler has named him Friend, three times now, and so that must be true—and a friend would not be unwelcome, no matter how the Keeper's pride might sting to admit that he had erred, to allow his vulnerabilities to be perceived.

He opens the door.

"My Friend," breathes his Traveler, relief lighting every line of his body, his beautiful face, and the Keeper cannot pretend any longer that his pride matters more than this being of warmth and life and joy.

"I apologize," he offers, before his Traveler can say ought else. "I have treated you poorly, and I would. Make amends. Please. Come in."

His Traveler smiles, and it chases the cold from the Keeper's limbs effortlessly.

"It was callous of me to presume you lonely, and I am sorry for the offense," his Traveler begins as they sit at the kitchen table, as the Keeper pours them tea, and oh how he has missed the warmth of this ritual, the brightness his Traveler brings.

"I took offense because it was true, and it vexed me to be so easily known," he replies. "I am lonely, my friend, and I have missed you fiercely."

"I have missed you, as well," his Traveler declares, eyes shining, and the Keeper's heart is overfull.

"Where do your travels next take you?" he inquires, through the soft smile that will not leave his face.

His Traveler grins, brighter than the sun. "Here, to your door," he declares. "I'll not travel on til you bid me leave. If you'll have me?"

"I will, old friend," the Keeper agrees.

His Traveler leans across the corner of the table between them, and places his big hands gentle and warm on the Keepers face, and kisses him full on the lips. "Then I shall stay," he murmurs.

And, for the first time in the memory of anything, dawn breaks over the lighthouse on the island at the end of the Space Between Worlds.

===

(Hob does leave again eventually; he is the Traveler, not the Stays-in-One-Place-er. But he always spends ample time between journeys at the lighthouse with his Dream. And eventually they find another unique individual who becomes the Apprentice Lighthouse Keeper (hello Daniel) and Dream can join Hob on some of his travels and finally see the worlds he's been guiding people to his entire existence)

Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post

[storiesforallfandoms]

santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

[skylermadness]

Glitched-In Gator - Brok the InvestiGator TF/MC

(Original Date of Upload: December 20, 2023)

Original Description:

Secret Santa gift for my close friend! So this was a story I had planned for a few months, almost abandoned because I didn't feel it, then I went back to it because I had the perfect chance to do something for it! I originally wasn't feeling the whole VR shtick, but I kind of realized while doing rewrites that it was because I had no idea what I was really doing for it. Having an established OC like my friend's Parker character actually helped me do something more interesting besides 'generic non-descript person gets transformed randomly'. So I'm actually quite happy at the end result of this! Besides that though, I want to write out more Brok TFs some day. RJ's been on my mind for a long while too as well, but I'm unsure when or if I'll get to him.

   There was a certain level of eeriness that penetrated the room that Parker was currently in. It was large and empty with the insides of its hemispherical appearance only being illuminated by small lights that were embedded periodically within the geometrical platings of its walls. It didn't even feel like enough to light up the entire room. All of this made the young adult feel small when compared to the sheer size of the room, which was far from a pleasant feeling.

   The eerie silence of the room was then broken by the sound of some mechanical whirring coming from the middle of it. Turning around, Parker found a small rectangular pillar rising from the ground. Atop that pillar was a VR headset alongside its associated hand controllers.

   "Please remember that all of this is purely for testing purposes, Parker," a feminine voice rings out from an earpiece that had been in their right ear the whole time.

   "Yeah, I remember…" Parker responded as they stepped towards the small pillar. They were personally reached out to a few weeks back by the CEO of a company named ScyBr Essence Technologies, said CEO named Mrs. Wynn. That company has requested them to arrive at their facilities to further test their new VR systems. It was an odd request considering they didn't have any prior experience in game testing. And despite their profession as a video game streamer, nothing about the request or contract were laced with mentions of promotions or sponsorships to be done by them. It was just strange to say the least.

   They picked up the headset and placed it onto his head, then took hold of the hand controllers. "So uh, Mrs. Wynn, what exactly are the activation controls of this thing?"

   "I can have the testing program activated remotely from here,” she responds, "Just give me a second…"

   In one second following that statement, Parker's ocular senses were instantly assaulted as all of a sudden the supposed program was activated. They stepped back a bit as they found themself a little disoriented, especially because they had to get used to the… virtual brightness that was now being created by the endless expanse of pure nothing that headset was subjecting him to now.

   "I-is it meant to just be a white void!?"

   "Apologies, wrong program."

   The brightness suddenly died down as a different program was loaded. In a millisecond the white expanse was replaced with a room. In comparison to the room they were in in reality, this one was a lot smaller. More akin to that of an apartment space actually. The furniture around the place was rather standard: a door with a fridge to its left and a very messy sink to its right, another door on the wall adjacent to that sink. As Parker turned they found a rather lengthy bench behind him, and beside it was a bed. Lastly was what seemed to be a punching bag to the bed's left. Something about this room actually seemed rather familiar somehow. Before Parker could come to a conclusion however, they realized that a table had generated around their body.

   "Please step out from the table so we can activate the collision from our end. We don't want you getting bisected!"

   "Eheh, sure…" Parker responded with a nervous laugh. Something about the woman's comment was a bit too serious, but they complied with the request and stepped away from the table's insides and towards the dirty sink.

   A few seconds passed before the voice spoke again. "...okay, collision should be on now. For the time being this program is mostly meant to test the boundaries of a virtual world for a planned VR port of a game called Brok the InvestiGator. It's more proof of concept than anything else, but we want to at least get the world up and running before we move on to anything more complicated."

   That was when everything finally clicked for Parker. That's why this room was familiar, it was Brok’s apartment! Admittedly they didn't instantly jump to that conclusion, especially since they only did one or two streams of the game before life problems got in the way and they just never got back to it. For a second their brain drifted to adding it as an option for a ‘game to stream’ poll on their Patreon, but they wrangled their wandering thoughts before they could have a chance to think about it more intensely. Although they did have one question they wanted to ask before getting into this testing session…

   “Was there any reason in particular you guys had in picking me to test it?”

   Parker was given a rather lengthy pause before the CEO responded. “We at ScyBr Essence Technologies like to take in consideration our buyers, and one way to do this is to contract people who would be perfect fits to test our products. Seeing you are both a popular streamer and someone who has played these kinds of games before, it was only an accurate choice to pick you.”

   Parker hummed, deciding not to dignify that with a response. Something about the statement was definitely a manufactured corporate dialogue. It also made a part of them want a pay raise for this session. Sighing, they disregarded that thought and began to look around. They were rather impressed by how the models of the furniture looked life-like, so much so that the messiness of the dishes in the sink they were near was a bit too real to look at. Disgusting…

   Parker proceeded to spend the next few minutes exploring the room and trying to interact with whatever they knew they could. Pulling open the fridge and grabbing and moving around the fruit in it. Playfully giving the punching bag a few good jabs and watching it swing around as a result. They did try to interact with both doors, but the doors didn't really seem to react to them. Locked maybe, probably so the creators of this VR system didn't have to render areas outside the apartment yet.

   During the process of their exploration Parker came back to the table to inspect what was on it better. Mostly random objects like a fruit basket and a magnifying glass. The only object of interest that was on it was a small picture frame showcasing a picture of Brok, Graff, and Brok’s… wife was it? Parker couldn't remember due to how long it's been since that incomplete stream attempt…

   Their random interactions were cut short however as the silence of the room was yet again broken. However instead of it being the voice of their contractor, it was the sound of static crackling nearby. Putting down the picture frame Parker looks up to find where the crackling was coming from. The source was from a newly manifested object that was in the space between the punching bag and the fridge: a coat rack stand (and a hat that was hanging on one of its hooks) that was just glitching in and out of existence.

   "Uhhh,” Parker starts to speak into the earpiece, “There seems to be an object here that just appeared and started glitching…”

   It takes a few seconds for the woman on the other side to respond. "Hm. That might be some leftover code from an object that we had to remove. If the sound annoys you just touch it and it'll disappear. I'll make sure to have my technicians deal with it after this test…"

   Parker rolled their eyes. Just touch it and it'll disappear? Something about the flippant lack of protocol didn't sit well with them. They stepped over towards the glitchy coat rack and tried to wave a hand through it to dispel it. However the moment their arm touched the pole they, just for a second, felt the hardness of the pole meet their arm before they were given a sudden and rather violent shock.

   "AGH-" Parker yelled out, the young adult quite literally stunned by the interaction as they felt electricity(?) flow through their body.

   Their earpiece activates again with their contractor plainly saying, "I suggest immediate removal of the headset and vacating the-" before her voice got cut off, as if the connection got severed.

   Before Parker got much of a chance to try and do the few instructions they could hear, the object blipped out of existence and they were promptly sent flying onto the ground. And in just the few seconds they spent in the air the physicality of the space was made tangible as the feeling of the headset and hand controllers faded away. The initially virtual world around him was realized in a literal way, and their physical body seemingly manifested into it from the shock. They then fell onto their back, Parker groaning out in pain. It also seemed that the purple fedora that was perched on the coat rack remained in reality, descending onto Parker’s chest as they laid flat on their back.

   Slowly, Parker got up as they scratched the back of their head. "What happened there…" they asked to themself, the overall bizarreness of the previous chain of events making it take a while before everything clicked in their brain. "Wait a moment-"

   They stopped scratching their head and brought their arms forward, and then they slowly lowered their gaze to their body.

   "...did- did that thing digitize me or something!?"

   Ignoring the fedora that was perched on their chest they quickly stood up, slight panic starting to course through them. This shouldn't have been possible… right? They were well aware that strangely advanced technologies existed, especially since their whole channel was built on one, but something like this did feel a bit… much.

   “Aw jeez, how am I going to get out of this…?” they posited. While the idea of being in a video game sounded kind of fun, they weren't really sure if they wanted to be stuck in one. Much less without their permission!

   Parker’s eyes were brought to the front door of the room. Curious, they walked over towards it and gave the knob a shake. They could hear a series of clicks signifying it could open.

   "This isn't bound by the confines of code anymore…" they observed. Was he digitized or was this place made real around him? Were they placed in the game or did they somehow get transported in the reality the game had been based on? Lifting a hand up, they scratched their head in thought. “Jeez, this is getting confusing now.”

   Parker's mind begins to drift, thoughts of concern filling their head as they try to fully process what is going on and how they're even meant to interact with this world now. Was this the actual reality of Brok now? Or was this some strange empty space in a harddrive? It couldn't be that second thing, but even then what would this even be considered if they weren't digitized in the first place!? Their thinking left them distracted and unaware, something that allowed the true effects of the shock steadily become more tangible without Parker noticing yet. 

   A bright shade of green begins to creep in from the tips of their fingers, slowly but surely spreading across them with ease. This change in skin tone was caused by their skin itself altering, the softness of it getting tougher as it was steadily getting transformed into what seemed to be scales. This wave of scales continued to move its way down the fingers of both hands, a secondary change being added to them as they began to thicken as well. Each finger swelled up with size getting thicker and longer, and it didn't take long for them to get fat to the point of being almost sausagey. It would also seem two fingers on each hand got squished into each other, Parker now being left with only four-fingered hands. 

   Their hands themselves weren't left unscathed either as they too got affected by the scales overtaking them. The backs got consumed by the rough greens, meanwhile the palms maintained a level of softness as they got taken over by a brighter shade of green. Their size underwent the same types of changes as well, their once flatter appearance filling up and bloating to become of equal density with his fatter fingers. They were also stretching out in all directions and enlarging to a much wider width. It didn't take very long for both hands to garner a significant, almost cartoony plumpness that looked humorous when compared to their thinner arms and body.

   That disparity didn't last though. The cuffs of the sleeves of their jacket began to tighten as the changes in their skin started to cascade upwards onto and beyond their wrists, steadily increasing the diameter of each wrist in the process. The main site of importance was Parker's forearms however. Bulk began to pile onto them as an odd feeling of strength was coursing through them and their muscle mass was shifting as a result. Their forearms were thickening in size due to their muscle mass getting more developed. This all caused the lower ends of their jacket sleeves to get filled as a result.

   Their upper arms weren't left out either as they too began to quickly swell in size. Greens moved beyond his elbows and layered onto his flesh, and beneath it all their biceps bloated with their triceps increasing alongside them. The fabric of his jacket got indented with the ridges of their muscles, and it would seem that the short sleeves of their undershirt were quick to fill. This progressed further as their deltoids bloated up and got rounder, their shoulders now broadening as a result. The once lanky form of Parker’s limbs had already gained a substantial difference in size, now almost reaching a point that they were double their previous size thanks to this instantaneous workout. While the sturdy denim of their jacket just barely managed to hold their muscled arms, the much softer material of their undershirt wasn't faring as well and had already begun to split across their bigger biceps and shoulders.

    The sound of tearing piercing the air snapped Parker out of their spiral of confuzzlement. “Did my shirt just- whaaat the hell-”

   The sight of their arms was a strange one. What had once been unimpressive, average-sized limbs that allowed their jacket to hang off them had now been replaced with firm, muscular, stronger arms that practically stretched the denim of their jacket with ease. For Parker such a sight wasn't necessarily off-putting, mainly considering their usages of Change4Change on their livestreams, but the fact it's happening is a reason for concern.

   Parker eyes one of their arms, giving it a flex and watching as the muscles of it further press into the material of their jacket. “Maybe digitization isn't the only thing that's happening,” they then unflexed and held the arm out, inspecting their hand next. Green and scaley with such fat fingers. It was a sight that made deducing what was happening a rather simple task. They were transforming to fit this new reality they were shunted into it seemed, and the person they were becoming was the titular protagonist of the game the original simulation was based off of…

   “...fuck that sounds cool actually-”

   The air of confusion and concern had begun to fade in that instant as Parker came to some kind of internal ultimatum. Especially since the idea of becoming the InvestiGator himself was not an unappealing one by any means…

   Meanwhile, the changes had not halted during Parker’s form inspection. Especially since it didn't take very long for the scales to jump from their arms to their chest, their frame now widening beneath the shifting skin and formulating a broader appearance. And as the scales crept onto the front of their body, the appearance changed as the color shifted from a standard green to a more yellowish-green tone. This was more than a change in tone as well, the original hardness of the scales now instead becoming a median between the softness of human skin and the toughness of gator scales. Parker was effectively getting a reptilian underbelly, something that was also causing their chest to fill out substantially. 

   At first it began with a growth in muscle mass, Parker’s pectoral muscles steadily growing in size and muscularity with ease. Swelling out thicker and stronger, the core of their body heating up as the shelf of their chest extended forward with each passing second. It wouldn't take long for their undershirt to already get indented with Parker’s newly deepening cleavage. However it was evident that this wasn't the only change happening to the upper portion of their body. While the firmness of their chest existed, it didn't take very long for it to start getting shrouded beneath another layer of something.

   Formulating around Parker’s chest was a layer of fat, one that was quick to accumulate around their new muscles. This resulted in a significant softness forming in their chest, the previous raw meatiness getting melted into something more squishy and flabby. The upper body strength still existed of course, but it was accentuated with pudge that made their pecs absolutely squeezable in contrast to the scaliness of it. All the while their chest still grew in size a bit more, growing in tandem with Parker’s wider frame. Although for the most part it was causing their chest to press against their undershirt even more. It was a wonder that the torso section wasn't splitting as well…

   Concurrent with the changes of Parker’s upper torso, the lower half of it was undergoing a similar if not more drastic change. As the yellowish-green scales of their new underbelly grew more prominent, their abdominal muscles began to harden and solidify while strength coarsed through them with ease. However it was quick to garner a layer of fat, and in this region of their body it was quickly evident it wasn't just going to settle as just a layer. A bloating sensation was quick to fill their belly as it began to swell outwards. With each passing second, the hem of their shirt steadily rode up their stomach as it grew bigger, rounder, fatter. And it would only progress that way for a while. More and more fat just filling up the area, the sheer roundness of their belly getting increasingly more prominent to the point that it was easily becoming more of a gut than anything else. Ample size, soft yet firm, and hiding some level of muscle beneath it all. By the time this portion of the changes slowed their newly developed gut had pushed their undershirt completely above it, exposing it to the air and showing the scaley and segmented appearance of what was now their underbelly.

   Parker found themselves leaning against the door, feeling the weight steadily piling onto them thanks to both their muscle and fat. “O-ough. This-” they paused, a light tingle entering their throat and forcing them to clear it to try and dispel it. “This feels kinda good…”

   Blinking a few times, they register the throat tingle a second time. They also noticed a chance to their voice seeming to begin kicking in. It was beginning to sound a little bit… deeper? And the tone of it was a bit off. “It's getting to my voice too, huh?”

   Parker couldn't help but smile though. “Brok did have a pretty cute voice from what I recall…”

   With that they go from leaning to their side to leaning on their front, their forehead on the door as their gaze was fixated on their belly. They give it a nice rub with one of their hands, feeling up the softer feeling scales. By this point a level of grogginess was beginning to set into their brain. A light fog slowly rolled into their mental space, that lightness very slowly intensifying as seconds passed. It was steadily getting harder to focus on the transformation process, especially with this growing feeling of… something in their mind. Familiarity? Normalcy? It was hard to discern. 

   At the very least that mental haze made Parker unable to notice that their height had been altering all this time. Their back had already grown rather broad at this point to fit with Parker’s now wider form, and their trapezius muscles were already pushed up against their undershirt and indenting their jacket. And it wasn't very long until this already garnered wideness forced the back of their undershirt to split open, light blue cotton tearing to reveal dark green scales. Their spine had decompressed a bit with the discs of each vertebrae growing a little larger to fit their new proportions. All the while a pair of blunt spikes lined the region of scales above their spine, steadily forming down until they found their way to the base of it. Once it did reach the base however, something strange began to occur.

   At first it only felt like a tug. A small amount of pressure in their tailbone that only gave mild discomfort. But with the progression of time that small feeling got bigger. Pressure was constantly building up, a growing lump forming above their rear, and that lump growing larger and larger as the pressure continued to grow linearly. Parker could only grit their teeth as they felt this happening, the once minor discomfort now becoming a major one. They could feel the lump start to push against the back of their pants, pull against their belt, and in general just exert immense amounts of force on their legwear that it was not accustomed to. This tug of war would only continue for a few seconds more though, as once enough pressure finally built up…

   SHRRRP!!!

   THUD!

   “GRRAGHH!!!”

   Shards of denim fly from behind them as a massive, spiky tail unfurled its way out from the base of Parker’s spine. It lands on the floor with a mighty thud and its length still increases for a few seconds more. Although it would seem its impressive girth was shrinking, already tapering to a rounded tip. Nonetheless, Parker now sported the lengthy tail of a gator. One that they were checking out, the transforming adult seeming to already get a hang of moving it.

   “Heheh, quite the trouble you caused there, huh?” Parker said with a smile, their voice continuing to deepen more with each word. The tone had now been given a more masculine edge as well. They didn't seem to care though, instead choosing to give the base of their tail a nice rub. This distracted them from the fact they were now losing height. 

   The green scales were quick to find their way to Parker’s legs, now rapidly overtaking the skin of them. Beneath it all came another slew of physical changes not unlike the ones that happened in their arms. Leg muscles began to grow, quadriceps and hamstrings bulking up and easily making indents within the denim of Parker’s jeans. All while their muscles were maturing, they pressed up against the bones of Parker's legs and changed them. Where they gained some wideness they also lost some length. An event that had caused Parker’s initial height loss, something that gave them a more top-heavy appearance as a result. The same structural changes to their leg bones would also happen to their lower legs as they too were consumed by scales. This also caused the feeling of the crus of their legs starting to swell, calves ballooning outwards and their jeans continuing to strain over their legs in a futile attempt to contain their thickening form. It wouldn't take very long for a few tears to form to the sides of their legwear. Now the only area of their lower body that was not washed over by the sea of scales were their feet. This wouldn't last long however…

   Spreading across their soles was a pale green, meanwhile a standard shade of green was forming down from the sides and over the upper portion of their feet. Concurrently they were also growing in size, getting thicker, larger, longer, and wider. Unfortunately however, their feet were confined to their shoes. As their size increased it caused the material to bulge and strain in an attempt to continue to contain them. As their toes pressed into the toecap the amount of bulges in the cloth shifted from five to four, and then to three large bumps that were now just aching to get out. The sides of their footwear were expanding and steadily starting to split and crack, and they could feel their fatter heels dig into the back of them as well. The strings that held them together creaked and snapped with ease as the newly forming wideness of their feet was becoming too much. Then rips started to form at the front as their toenails sharpened, their composition shifting and hardening into something more boney, now poking out and becoming a triad of claws. Soon enough the bulges that were caused by his toes were too much as well, the fronts of their shoes splitting open and finally giving them some air. This then caused a chain reaction in the rest of his footwear with it steadily breaking apart and shattering in one large burst that sent pieces of blue cloth flying in the air.

   The sound of Parker’s shoes exploding took their attention away from their tail. Looking down at their feet they were greeted with the two being fully transformed and covered in shreds of cloth and string. Although all they really did was shake the destroyed remnants of their shoes off each foot. “Havin’ trouble recalling why I was even wearing those…”

   They cleared their throat again. The strange sensation from earlier was fading, and it was evident their voice was settling to that new tone. Deep and masculine with a certain quality to it. Caring, but able to switch to something more aggressive at the flip of a dime if need be.

   Perhaps the weird part however was the fact they were just… unable to view their voice as anything different now. There was a part of them that could just barely breach the topic to themselves that this was Brok’s voice and not theirs, but at the same time their brain just had trouble discerning their original identity. Like it was getting muddled beneath all the fog in their mind. And even then when they could think of something it was something different and more natural…?

   “Come to think of it, I'm having trouble recalling a lot of things right now…” they- he raised his hand and started to scratch his head in confusion. He could've sworn he was just thinking about… leaving a… something or other…

   As his mind drifts to another bout of confusion, the scales slowly move beyond his neck and onto his head. The yellowish-green scales were perhaps the first to make the transition by going from beneath his jaw to layering his chin, and then easily surrounding his mouth. As the scales in this shade gained more surface area around his lower face it prompted a dramatic shift in his skull structure. Slowly his lower face pushed out, lower jaw jutting forward as the region beneath his eyes followed suit. This was causing a gator-like muzzle to form out from his face, his jawline restructuring to fit this new animalistic appearance while it also gained a certain broadness that managed to grant him a more masculine visage from the jawline alone. Meanwhile as the upper portion of his muzzle grew forward, his nose steadily merged into the tip of it until there were nothing more than two holes at the front of it. The bridge of the muzzle’s upper half got consumed by darker green scales as it bubbled, getting rougher and bumpier in the process of the changes. Meanwhile within his mouth all of his started to shift, changing and sharpening while repositioning and misaligning. A few teeth even poked out from between his now longer mouth.

   While the lighter colored scales stayed at the lower half of his face, the darker colored ones made the remainder of his head their territory. The sides of his face extending a bit and rounding out, the anthropomorphic qualities of his appearances yet against being accentuated thanks to the fat accumulation around his cheeks. Despite that, the structure of his skull still shifted as the humanity of it was lost to the more reptilian appearance it was taking. As the scales reached the direct sides of his head they also consumed his ears, the process shrinking them rapidly until he was just left with small holes for auditory intake.

   Meanwhile he continued to scratch his head, the initial act now changing to him dealing with a major itch on his scalp. Something he was unaware was being caused by the roots of his hair getting pushed out by his scales. It wasn't even a slow experience as, thanks to his massive hands, large chunks of his long hair sloughed off with ease. Brown strands and follicles slipping away due to his touch, the side bangs dropping away while the portion of his hair that was above his forehead slid off his head in an instant. His bun wasn't even given time to unfurl as in one fell swoop it disconnected from the back of his head and dropped to the ground. It wouldn't take long for all of his hair to drift and fall off his scalp and onto the floor, now leaving him with the scaley dome of a gator.

   As his eyebrows succumbed to a similar fate, the ridges of his brows pushed forward and above his eyes while also getting thicker and more rectangular. Meanwhile his eyes themselves changed, sclera going from white to yellow as the blueness of his irises faded to black. Although it would seem the changes to his eyes represented something more significant.

   “Urgh, I- I had a job I was supposed to do, right…?”

   His thoughts and memories only continued to change beneath the haze in his mind. He could just barely recall the idea of a VR test supposedly happening, but the details were practically non-existent now. Something was pressing into that part of his brain, saying it was too early for something like that and that he had to do something else. He had other jobs he was meant to be doing that day. 

   Wasn't he called in for an investigation…? He could've sworn he was just hired for something.

   The gator let out a growl. “These memory lapses can't be getting… that bad, can they…?” 

   Right, he could recall he had the occasional loss in memory. But that usually came up with stuff from his past, not something that should've happened just a few minutes ago! Something about this just wasn't adding up. Maybe he should just check his phone again, try and shuffle through his messages or call history.

   He tries to shove a hand in one of his pants pockets, but quickly finds that he can't even jam in all his fingers. That's when the gator looks down at his body and notices his clothing. “W-wait, I didn’t- a-argh-”

   A piercing headache suddenly wracked his brain, the anthropomorphic gator shutting his eyes while squeezing the side of his head with a hand. The haze in his brain intensified and the rest of an entirely new identity was getting shoved into him.

   With his mental changes intensifying there was one last visible change occurring, this time to his extremely ill-fitting clothing. A single dot of dark coloring formed in the middle of his undershirt, and soon that splotch spread across the material at a rapid pace. Said shirt was growing as well, sleeves and back repairing and restitching while the hem unfurled and stretched over his stomach more easily. The dark coloring proved itself to be a simple shade of black that overtook the shirt’s original light blue and white coloration. In the end it was a relatively simple change though, his undershirt eventually settling into a black t-shirt that still was a bit small on him judging by the bottom of it revealing a sliver of his stomach and the top of it still having an indent of his chest.

   His jacket was mirroring the size changes as well, growing larger to fit his new proportions (and in this case seeming to actually fit them properly). Shades of reddish-brown etched their way across the once blue denim, and everywhere the brown touches changes material to a harder leather instead. While his jacket collar extends a bit, another part of his jacket split folds beneath it and forms a lapel. The pockets of his jacket seal shut to the point they've never existed, and a pair of leather epaulets bulge from the jacket shoulders. Lastly the sleeves of his now brown leather jacket roll upwards and cuff above his elbows. Additionally, the multi-colored bandana that was on his right arm unfurled itself and started to whisk itself to his neck. The soft material shifted and thinned dramatically, practically dethreading in mid-air until it was just a black string that tied itself around his neck. Then came a bright yellow glow above his chest, an almost silvery pendant materializing onto that string.

   The very last piece of clothing that changed was his pants. While they remained jeans, they also lengthened to fit his bulkier legs while fixing themselves of the damage they got during his initial transformation. As the legs of his jeans lengthened, they also rolled up and cuffed at the bottom of his own legs. As the back of his pants rethreaded to allow a tail-hole to exist in the seat of his jeans, the belt loop stretched above the very base of his tail that allowed for a brown leather belt to snake its way around his waist. A soft clink was then heard as its silver buckle fastened. The very final change came to his pockets where the four of them merged and bulged into thick and bulky gusset pockets, one of which now holding his new phone.

   A metal plate slapped itself onto the gator's snoot as the last of the mental changes were hauled in. A new identity and memories whirling around the reptile’s brain, filling in blanks and replacing what was originally there with ease. Thoughts of his original humanity were getting buried under a new perception of humanity. One that was more animalistic and diverse in forms. Meanwhile his own knowledge was getting overhauled, technological experience being dulled drastically. If anything he garnered a certain level of disdain for more complex works of technological advancement that he could never get working right. Although that may also be because he gained a little over ten years of age both physically and mentally.

   This all caused his previous job as a streamer to get flushed down the mental drainpipe. Instead all he could recall was his typical work as a handyman, the knowledge required for such a profession replacing the mental spot that his technological expertise had once resided. However, the most important aspect of his personhood soon followed. That being the justice-seeking desires of his detective work, and the slightly aggressive tendencies of his brawler persona. Such aspects of himself that mixed and meshed on a frequent basis, so much so that they were ingrained in his personality. Traits that made him Brok. Of course there were still multiple other personality traits that got overloaded into him though. Self-doubt and worry, a crippling fear of being alone, a slight hair-trigger temper that he has been attempting to suppress more and more. But despite all of that, he had an intense level of care and love that existed within his mind.

   Brok continued to hold his head in his hands as his brain was absolutely overladen with details and info, something that almost completely scrubbed whatever prior thought patterns he had had before this. It also left his attention almost completely dulled.

   “Ough, head… spinning…”

   “...rok?” a voice echoed from near the gator.

   “Whuh… who-”

   Suddenly the gator’s mental haze was shattered as a finger tapped his shoulder a few times.

   “What the-” Brok yelled out, the spirals in his eyes being blinked out as he was startled by the sudden touch. “O-oh, Graff!”

   Having been standing behind him for the past… who knows how long was his feline step-son Graff. Said feline had a slight look of concern on his face. “Woah- you looked a little zonked there.”

   “I- wuh…” Brok scratched the back of his head in confusion. “Admittedly I… don't remember what I was doing just about now,” the gator gave a nervous smile.

   Graff raised a brow in suspicion. “Oookay then. I just heard some yelling and…” The anthropomorphic cat began to trail off as he looked down to the floor and noticed what seemed to be brown fur(?) and shreds of hard blue cloth cluttering the area around Brok’s feet. “The heck went on there?”

   Brok looked down as well. “...I'm not quite sure about that either.”

   “...right,” at this point it just seemed like Graff was giving up on questioning whatever went on in the past few minutes. “Guess we'll just need to have the cleaning bot fix it?”

   Brok’s eyes widened at the mention of the cleaning bot. Nervously rubbing that back of his head he said, “O-oh, about that…”

   “You didn't get it fixed yet, did you?”

   “...no. I was going to have Shay do it but got distracted with… work stuff.”

   Graff just rolled his eyes, the sight making Brok cringe. An extremely strange stray thought at the back of his mind made him wonder how many relationship points he just lost. Weird…

   Brok still mustered a smile. “I'll make sure to try and get it repaired while out today! Consider that a promise!” 

   Graff didn't look convinced, but judging by his ears perking up a bit it would seem he was hopeful in his step-dad’s making it a promise. “Alright, alright… just uh,” he smirked, “Don't forget the hat.”

   Brok raised a hand to the apex of his head and gave his scalp a few pats. “O-oh! Where did…” his gaze wandered to the area of the room with the punching bag and found the fedora on the ground. Walking over towards it he commented, “How the heck did that thing get off me without me noticing!”

   He then placed the fedora onto his head and smiled. “Okay, now I'm gone!”

   Graff just gives the gator a nod as the reptile starts to make his way to the door and leave the apartment. Although he does smile at the sight of Brok pausing as he kicked some ridiculously large looking furball. Brok just sighed as he watched the furball roll into a corner. 

   “Seriously, how did this mess get made…”

[oonajaeadira]

Hi friend!! I hope your 2024 is off to a great start!! For the writing goal asks, how about these three?

👻🐌💥

Also, while I’ve got your ear, I need you to know that I’m still thinking about your Max secret Santa story and how utterly beautiful it was. I have a whole lot more to say about it, but for now please know that I loved it to bits and pieces.

ALYSSA

These are great questions. Thank you!!!!

I'm so so happy you liked that Max story because...

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

It's not new really, because two installments already exist, but horror romance. With that fellow Max up there. Creepy-but-soft other-than-human with-eternal-longing Max hits all of my buttons.

.

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

Really it's just to write more. I kinda fell off the wagon in 2023. I think just because I did a couple of remounts (read: easier shows) that I didn't see the year as busy, but it was. So far I have a little less on my plate for the majority of 2024 and I think that will help. I would really love to finish my year of tropes. Perhaps it won't be a year-of anymore, but just a collection and a sometime challenge. I really did try my best though!

.

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

Right now I'm excited to dig into my modern dom!Pero piece. It's been coming at me out of order and with some weird twists, but now that I've written a scene I'm very excited about, I know what i need to do to make the rest of it go.

I've also been dreaming about the Winter chapter of Leave Off Your Wandering, especially now that it's actually winter and I can more easily imagine snuggling up with a big bear of a Joel while it storms outside....

.

writers goals for a new year

[lightningboltreader]

Making New Memories with You

TK shuffles through the mail as he climbs the stairs to their loft. It’s a couple bills, the December issue of The New Yorker and an envelope for Carlos from Long Center. He slides open their door, hangs his bag on the hook and checks the time. Carlos can sleep for another half hour before he has to get ready for work, so TK quietly moves to the kitchen.  He’s so glad this is the last day of their opposite shift week this month. 

The mail is tossed on the counter in favor of a snack. A few moments later TK plops down on a stool with a plate of vegetables and hummus and a bottle of mineral water. He begins to flip through The New Yorker while attempting a quiet bite of carrot stick. The Upcoming section is filled with Christmas events - from tree lightings to skating to outdoor concerts and shopping. He munches loudly as he reads the descriptions, forgetting his surroundings. 

TK honestly misses less and less about New York the longer he’s in Austin - especially now that his mom is gone, but it’s hard not to be nostalgic about the spectacle of Christmas in the city that never sleeps. He has so many good memories of winter. It was the one time of year he was allowed to ride in the fire truck with his dad, bringing collected gifts to shelters around town and passing out hot chocolate and candy canes afterwards. Mom and Enzo would take him ice skating at Rockefeller Center and then go out for chinese. Sometimes the firefighters would include him when they took their kids sledding and he spent many evenings at the firehouse eating cookies with Santa and listening to carols by countless grateful visitors. 

All too soon Carlos is padding out of the bedroom in old sweatpants and a sleep tank. He rubs his eyes and yawns before noticing TK at the peninsula, so he hugs himself and heads there. TK shakes away the whispers of melancholy and offers up a smile.

“Hey baby.” TK pulls him in for a hug and kisses his shoulder lovingly. “How’d you sleep?”

Carlos pecks the top of TK’s head and then lets go to make a cup of coffee. “Good enough I guess. My alarm woke me and then I heard loud veggie crunching out here so I figured I’d better get up and investigate.” He grabs his full cup from the Keurig and smirks. “Turns out I have a loud snacking fiancé and not a bunny rabbit intruder.”

TK ducks his head and squints. “Sorry babe.” 

Carlos sets down his coffee, grabs a jar of overnight oats from the frig and joins him at a stool. TK smiles and shoves the magazine over a little. “I was just reminiscing about winter holidays in New York and it made me a little sad,” he confesses softly. Carlos looks at him sympathetically before his eyes light up at the mail pile. 

“Hand over that Long Center envelope, I have just the thing.” 

Read more on AO3

————————————————————————

@tarlosweeklyprompts March 4: Secret

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[wickedsingularity]

The Not So Secret Santa Advent Calendar 2022 [December 7th]

The Not So Secret Santa Advent Calendar 2022 Masterlist

Summary: No one thought the Avengers would be back after the final battle against Thanos. But here they are, a brand new team, moving into the shiny new headquarters right in time for Christmas. They are made to do Secret Santa for team building, and Bucky sees it as an opportunity to do something special for a certain someone…

Pairings/characters: Bucky Barnes x reader (but not really), Bucky Barnes, some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, mention of Sam Wilson Warnings: None Words: 219

For @iguess-theyre-mymess​

I chuckled lightly but took pity on the struggling super soldier and walked over. "How did you manage this?" I asked, stopping with my arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

"Was just trying to help untangle this," Bucky replied gruffly.

"The tinsel got caught in..." one of the agents said and pointed towards Bucky's metal arm. It had indeed gotten caught between the plates and got worse with every move he made.

I fought down a giggle, but judging from the glare Bucky sent my way, he had noticed. "I don't think this can be saved. You look very festive though." I pulled at bits of the tinsel, and it almost came apart in my hands, a few sparkling bits falling to the ground.

"Not a word to anyone about this, especially Wilson," Bucky hissed as he tore at the long string, ripped it off and threw it to the ground.

"No promises," I said and stuck my tongue out to him before picking up the pieces he threw down. "I'll throw this away on my way to training." I left them to their decorating, but as I was at the other end of the hall calling the elevator, I heard Bucky's footsteps coming behind me. He caught up just as the doors opened.

"Okay if I join you, doll?"

December 6th | Masterlist | December 8th

[whumpsecretsantaevent]

Secret Santa Gift: @quietly-by-myself

This is a Secret Santa event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

for quietly-by-myself <3

wanna start it off with saying that i've been meaning to read your series for so long, and when i got your name in my dms, i was so excited! i went and read the entire series, and it pained me, not being able to interact with it out of fear of you finding out i'm the one writing for you haha. i absolutely loved it! cried on several occassions, out of happiness and sadness alike (especially when it was cyril breaking down).

that being said, it's a fluff piece, little au where sacha reveals he grew up sailing/fishing, so they decide to get an aquarium:)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cyril, well and truly, hated going into town. It was filled with nosy people - eyes that would follow him and mouths that wouldn't stop talking. Every corner revealed a new person to stare at him, and while he could ignore them, they were still like ticks in his back, sucking the energy out.

And, although he hated the town, he would go into it as many times as needed, if it was for Sacha.

!!!!!!!!!

It had been a quiet morning, a couple months after Sacha started speaking, where the two of them were sat at the table, eating. Amber was, unsuccessfully, trying to steal food from Cyril's plate, with Sacha occasionally eyeing her, a shy smile on his lips. It was going to be a good day, Cyril thought.

Amber's antics were put on hold when Sacha picked her up, seemingly readying to say something. Cyril gave him the time, patiently drinking his vegetable soup.

"Cyril."

The man looked up, giving him his undivided attention. The action made Sacha curl inwards a bit, but he managed to bear through it.

"I grew up fishing. Sailing, and - and the like," Sacha said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cyril nodded, encouraging him to continue. He could see it - Sacha on a boat, catching fish. It was odd, but it suited him.

"I really, uh, m-miss it. The water. Fish."

It sounded like a request, but Cyril had no idea what he was trying to say. He didn't even know how close the nearest waterbody was, if Sacha was trying to ask for a trip.

He didn't continue, fiddling with Amber's tail, an awkward silence filling up the air. It felt like he was trying to say more, but just couldn't get it out. Cyril tried to guess.

"Do you... want a trip? Somewhere with water?"

"N-No, no," Sacha stammered, anxiously petting Amber. "I just miss it."

Cyril gave him a soft smile, happy with the exchange. It wasn't much, but it must've took Sacha a lot to be able to confess to something as common as missing things you loved. To be honest, Cyril wasn't too fond of road trips. Trips, in general, actually. He enjoyed being home, in the mountains, with his garden nearby, the quiet above all.

But this couldn't go, just like that. And, if he couldn't bring Sacha to water, maybe he could...

"Sacha, I have an idea," Cyril said, a wide smile creeping on his face.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sacha had seemed to love the thought, as far as Cyril could tell. He offered a rare, sweet smile, and nodded eagerly. It was enough for Cyril to make up his mind.

He started by clearing up some space in the kitchen. It wasn't a big place by any means, but a small, lively aquarium would fit, and the look on Sacha's face would be worth the work. Ordering the tank was easy enough, although pricey, and the walks into town to buy plants and all sorts of utensils for it were... bearable, with the end result in mind.

To be truthful, Cyril knew barely anything about fish, but that was a great opportunity for Sacha to help - it would definitely aid in him breaking out of his shell.

With quiet words and soft suggestions, Sacha guided him through the process of setting up the tank. It really was a small one, barely 30 liters, but when he thought Cyril wasn't looking, Sacha's eyes were bright with admiration. The toughest part was over - the substrate, the plants, the filters and all sorts of needed machinery were set up. Cyril found it surprisingly relaxing, as it felt almost like working in his garden.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

It had been hard, at the beginning, to figure out Sacha's thoughts, but as time passed, Cyril got better and better. So, when looking at the dozens of species of fish in the petshop, no matter how hard Sacha tried to suppress his interest, Cyril could see right through him. His eyes kept gliding to something he hadn't expected - guppies. Tiny, with long, colorful flirry tails, Cyril couldn't say they weren't adorable. But to say he wasn't surprised by Sacha's interest in them would be too much.

"I thought you'd like bigger fish, like the ones you find in lakes," Cyril admitted.

Sacha immediately snapped to attention, and Cyril cringed a bit. He had taken it as criticism, hadn't he?

"I - I do," he stammered.

"Hey, if you want guppies or anything else, we can get those, that's prefectly fine," Cyril said, trying to shrug off the previous comment.

"We wouldn't..." Sacha frantically looked around for a moment.

"Sacha, it's okay. You can tell me anything."

It was quiet for a moment, followed by Sacha taking a deep breath.

"We wouldn't be able to keep bigger fish anyways. It's a small aquarium."

"Oh." Cyril felt dumb, but that was true. Their tank was only 30 liters, lake fish would just struggle their entire lives in there. Something about that hit him unexpectedly, looking at the man in front of him.

Sacha's eyes went wide. With panicked whispers, Sacha approached him. "I wasn't trying to order you around. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, you can keep any kind of fish in there, I-"

Cyril gently took his hand in his, trying his best to keep his voice down as well. "Sacha, no, no. This is your aquarium, you can choose whatever you want for it. Don't worry about it, I just - okay, look, I'm not very accustomed to anything fish-related. You had to walk me through the entire setup, remember?"

Sacha nodded, absently. He was losing him.

"The guppies - You were looking at the guppies, right?" Cyril said, leading him there.

Slowly, Sacha's eyes refocused on the colorful fish darting around. There were dozens of them, divided into multiple tanks, seemingly by color. The one right in front had a school of bright red guppies, with some more colorful than others. Cyril assumed those were the male fish.

"It's your aquarium, Sacha. Couldn't bring you to a lake, so I thought I'd try bringing the lake to you. You can choose whichever fish you want, as long as they're right for the tank we have."

It was a long while before he got a response.

"I like these ones," Sacha said, gaze flickering inbetween them and Cyril. His eyes seemed... watery.

"Then we'll get these ones," Cyril nodded, smiling.

With the help of an employee, they found out the fish were called Flame Guppies, and Sacha got to choose which ones they would take home. The coincidence - Cyril was sure it was actually connected, somehow - of Sacha's preferred fish being related to flames, with how he adored the fire, was not lost on him. 

After paying, the employee handed Sacha the bag of water and fish, and Cyril had to stifle a laugh when he noticed how dedicated Sacha was to keeping them as comfortable as possible. It reminded him of their first days with Amber, when the man took care of the kitten so, so gently. Sacha truly was a kind, soft soul, and it made Cyril's heart ache. It hurt to look at him be so skittish and unsure, always asking permission and forgiveness for things so insignificant.

The road home was quiet, as it usually was. Once there, the two men did exactly as told by the employees at the petshop - slowly add tank water to the bag with fish, to let them get used to it.

Over the span of half an hour, the fifteen guppies were acclimated and ready for the tank, and, despite his usual self, Cyril was excited to see them in their new home.

"Do you want to put them in?" Cyril asked, holding the bag.

"No - I'm afraid, with my - my hands. They're shaky, and I don't want to drop them."

Cyril nodded, apologetically, and slowly poured the bag's water into the aquarium. The fish immediately took to it, hiding inbetween the many plants, and Cyril thought they looked like tiny sparks from the fireplace, drifting along.

He turned his head, and was pleasantly met with Sacha's intense, affectionate gaze as he followed the fish. Amber was to the side, doing the same, and Cyril made a mental note of never leaving the cover off the aquarium.

"Cyril," Sacha said, voice quivering.

"Yeah, Sacha?"

"Thank you, so much. It - It's perfect. It really is. Thank you."

"Of course, Sacha."

"Can I hug you, please?"

Cyril felt his voice break. "Of course."

As he felt Sacha melt in his arms, Cyril couldn't help but think that the end result was far better than what he thought it would be like.

happy holidays, from your secret santa <3

[queerlordsimon]

Holidays with friends

Cw

An: this is for my secret santa giftee, @iniini , from @twstedsecretsanta event. I hope i did your oc’s justice, though im not positive, and i hope you can forgive me if they are not done the best. Please enjoy, and i would love to get to know them better after this!

Ah, the wonderful time, spending the holidays with your friends, an always fun experience. Especially for Ori and Mallow. So of course, when they were invited to spend it at the Monstro Lounge by Jade, they accepted. Well, Ori accepted, and then convinced/dragged Mallow with them.

“Ori, do you have to take me with you?” Ori nodded vigorously.

“Of course Mallow! I already told everyone you'd be there. Don't worry, they won't expect you to talk too much” Ori chirped. Mallow sighed slightly, not much of a tone to it, and allowed Ori to drag them to Octavinelle.

Once they arrived, they were both surprised to see more than just the fish mafia, rather, they saw most of their friends. Ace and Deuce had already dragged grim along with them, from their babysitting him to give the two a break. Jack had tagged along as well, and silver was inexplicably there as well, albeit asleep at a booth. Jade smiled his signature smile, as he approached.

“Welcome our ramshackle friends. I'm glad you could both make it.” Ori smiled and nodded.

“Of course Jade! Wouldnt miss it. Thank you for inviting us!” Mallow nodded sharply in response.

“Of course, of course. Well, make yourselves at home, I have convinced Azul that everything will be free for today for your little group, so enjoy. “ Mallow nodded again, before sweeping away, to go sit next to the sleeping silver, going to be content with mostly people watching. Ori smiled brightly at Jade, before taking their leave to go join in the shenanigans the freshman squad was causing.

“Yo Ori! Nice of you to join us!” Ace smiled, playfully nudging their shoulder. Ori hummed and nodded.

“Of course, I couldn't leave all the impulsive decisions to you guys.” Ori smiled widely.

“Just in time, henchhuman! Floyd just brought out food from the kitchen!” Grim said smugly, before attempting to grab stuff off of the buffet plate with his paws. Deuce held him back.

“Grim, no, ask one of us to get it for you with silverware, you will not be putting your grubby paws in other people's food.” Grim grumbled, before pulling Deuce to do it for him. Jack chuckled good-naturedly.

“Nice to see you, Ori. I saw you managed to pull along Mallow?”

“That I did Jacky, though I'm sure they are going to be just content sitting watching us from next to Silver, so it is fine. Hopefully” Ace chuckled loudly.

“Yeah, Mallow will enjoy themselves. “ he said, as Ori waved to Mallow, who waved back, slightly, eyes training across them all. Jack smiled cheerfully.

“Well, it's good you were able to pull them out of the house, getting out is a good thing. “

“That it is Jacky, that it is.” Ori smiled, before starting to get their food, as Grim and Deuce came back, Grim sitting on Deuce's shoulders eating, the plate balancing on top of his head, as the tanuki ate with his paws. Ori laughed softly, before letting their gaze turn across the lounge, which they hadn't been to since the holidays had started.

It appeared Azul had decided to take after the traditional Christmas decorations. Garlands and lights hanging on the ceilings, big evergreens in the corners, that seemed almost haphazardly decorated, though that could have just been because of the popcorn and cranberry garlands, which seemed to have been eaten on, presumedly by Floyd. The doors all had evergreen wreaths on them, and poinsettia flowers sat at the base of them.

“It seems Azul got the lounge in full festive feeling.” Ace nodded.

“That it does. Very Christmassy in here, isn't it Jacky?” He said teasingly to Jack, who grunted.

“Only Ori can call me that, Ace” which in turn caused Deuce to laugh.

“Yeah Ace.”

“You don't get to say anything, Mr goody two shoes, your head is being used as a table.” causing Deuce to pout. Ori shook their head, smiling at the freshman's antics. Grim smiled proudly.

“Henchhuman, you have to try this food, it's to die for!” deuce shook his head gently, not to fling the food.

“It might actually be to die for, Floyd made it” Grim's smile dropped before Floyd came bounding out of the kitchen, hugging the cat-like freshman.

“Catfishhyyyy, how nice of you to join us! And Mackerelll, how could you accuse me of poisoning this food? I wouldn't want catfish to die, would I?” Ori chuckled and rolled their eyes.

“Nice to see you too Floyd, thank you for making food for us!” Ori smiled widely. Floyd cheered and squeezed tighter. Jack's eyes soften,

“Floyd, you may want to loosen up that grip, you wouldn't want to hurt Ori.” Floyd pouted but did so, letting Ori release a breath of relief to breathe again.

Across the room, Mallow was very intently and carefully watching all the interactions, smiling softly to themselves. They hummed quietly, as their eyes danced over the decorations as well.

Some of the more decorations that Ori had missed were just how sparkly the tree toppers were, and that there were little enchanted snowmen as centerpieces on the tables, that skated around a small metal circle on the table, had small snowball fights with each other, and made different expressions. There were some snow globes hanging from the garland as well, making the droop more, but it was very pretty to watch.

As Mallow watched Ori and the others mess around, Silver stirred slightly from his sleep, sitting up quite groggily, making Mallow glance at him.

“Good afternoon Silver. Was your nap enjoyable?” Mallow said, not much feeling in their voice, but the sentiment was there. Silver nodded as he blinked some of the sleep out of his eyes.

“Afternoon Mallow, yes, my nap was quite enjoyable except I do not remember falling asleep,” he mumbled sleepily. Mallow nodded, moving their eyes back to the loud group.

“It's good at least that you fell asleep here instead of anywhere else. Outside is quite cold right now. “ Silver nodded in response, running his palms over his eyes, and blinking some more.

“Yeah, there is that, but I was here early in a wish to be here and awake for when Ori inevitably dragged you here. But here I was sleeping on you. I must apologize. “

“It's fine, Silver, I know you can not help it. Why do we not go get food? It should assist in waking you up.” Mallow said, standing up and looking at Silver, who nodded.

“That should work, Thank you, Mallow. “ Mallow nodded swiftly, as he stood.

“Not a problem Silver,” they said as they both walked towards the louder group.

“Ah Silver, your up!” Ori said loudly when they got closer, Silver nodded to the cat.

“Good to see you Ori, Glad you could make it. “ Ori smiled,

“Well someone had to make sure Mallow got out. “ Mallow shook their head.

“I could have gone out on my own Ori. “

“I know~” Ori hummed and smiled, winking. Mallow rolled their eyes before pulling Silver to get food, as jade joined his brother and made small chat with the freshmen. Mallow and Silver joined in on the conversation with food. Well, Silver did mostly, but Mallow added some comments here and there. The group hung out until later in the night when the freshmen had to pack up and head home, Ori took Grim and placed him on their shoulders, as they and Mallow trekked back to Ramshackle, full and content.

[muzzlemouths]

Secret Santa here! I can't seem to find the post you had talking about what Dead Mall Dare Sun&Moon first wore. I have the image saved as a reference so that's not an issue

But you said that they changed clothes essentially all the time now since the mall's been closed, right?

If so, does this also include wearing "feminine" clothing like dresses and skirts?

And if you could, who would be more prone to wear what overall? Be it types, styles, colors, themes, etc. Any little bit would help if you know it

Ps. Don't worry about Moon's face plate crack for the last ask I sent! Just need to know which is the final one, the crack on the eye or the mouth? I have both saved as references

Sorry for so many questions in one go! Hope it doesn't overwhelm you /g

Here's the post (+ the reblog with the pinterest) talking about what they initially wore - ironically, I also mentioned here that they're considered genderless and wore clothes from either section of the mall, including feminine clothing! Two answers for the price of one lol

Going into more detail, Sun is the more likely of the two to wear skirts (especially when paired with a belt or a cardigan and tights), but he also loves jumpsuits, dresses, matching cutouts, and lots and lots of coats! If he's wearing pants, they're normally flare, bejeweled, or high waisted. In terms of accessories, Sun wears glasses, scarves, gloves, and lots of jewelry (mainly earrings - his rays have miniscule holes drilled in places for this specific reason)

Moon on the other hand prefers his pants graphic or patterned, and his jackets loose, or leather. Back when the mall was open he had a passion for fancy suits, but he hasn't worn one in years. Decades, even. For accessories, Moon prefers belts and many hats (or hoodies). His faceplate isn't suited to wear earrings. Both Sun and Moon wear boots and platform shoes.

I decided to finalize the design where Moon's crack is beside his mouth - with a splinter of it going up into/past his single eye, for future lore reasons.

Thank YOU for being so interested in all of this. I hope my answer doesn't overwhelm YOU either! lmao

[little0pastel0peach]

Griffin was laying across his girlfriend, Holly's lap on his couch. Griffin loved these moments with Holly. Working at the local hospital meant a lot of long hours and over time. He missed her on his long shifts, so their time together was always a little extra special to him. Even though he'd never admit it.

It was nearing the holidays which ment sugary desserts and lunch donations for the staff were coming in left and right. Poor Griffin could never turn down a doughnut shaped like a snowman or a Santa sugar cookie. And that morning when his shift ended was no different. As he drove home with the plate of decorated sweets he mindless late them one by one and washed them all down with a 2 liter of Sprite. It was only until he got home that he realized he had eaten the whole plate of cookies. His stomach let out a low angry growl as to let him know that he messed up big time. But Griffin could handle this, right?

Holly quickly began to take notice of Griffins demeanor. His head was tilted to the side and was watching the TV while she played with his hair. He was unusually quiet with both his hands protectively holding his stomach with his left hand fidgeting with the button on his pants. Holly decided to investigate.

" We should grab a bite to eat, I don't know about you Griff but I'm starving. "

It was silent for a second, Holly watched the color drain from his face until Griffin mumbled something about not being hungry. He then turned back over to stare at the TV. Something was definitely up.

Holly sighed as she sat and thought. Her and Griffin have only been together 5 months. She's never really seen him sick or unwell. Maybe he's just exhausted. Maybe he -

Griffins stomach decided to chime in and break the silence. A series of long angry growls emmited from his stomach. Griffin couldn't hold back a groan as he sat up, practically dubbled over.

" Griffin baby! What's going on? Hun what's wrong? "

Griffin could only moan in pain as his stomach roared angrily. Holly jumped off the couch and sat in front of Griffin. He was dubbled over on the couch. Holly could tell that he was in immense pain. She cupped his face with her hands.

" Baby you know you can talk to me about anything. I want to help you but you have to tell me what's going on. "

There was another long pause before Griffin finally picked his head up so he was facing Holly. Griffin nervously bit his lip "M-my s-stomach hurts so bad. "

That was all holly needed to hear before she pulled Griffins scrub pants down so they rested on his hips, his stomach gurgled and explored its new found space. Griffin let out a sigh of relief as Holly helped him take his shirt off. Holly felt her face get hot at the sight of his bloated belly.

Holly was in heaven. She had always had a secret thing for bellies, especially loud gurgling over stuffed bellies. She kneaded her palms into Griffins taunt gut and was loving every second of it.

Now Griffin generally took good care of his health. Regularly working out and being on his feet as a nurse provided him with an athletic build with a toned stomach. But at the moment his stomach looked more like a beach ball. Holly bit her bottom lip as she listened to all the angry growls comming from his mid section. Her hands looked so small against his enormous gut, and not becausehe was almost a foot taller than her. Red marks dug into Griffins skin from how tight his scrubs were. Holly could feel the gas bubbles traveling through his stomach underneath her palm. She met Griffins gase who's eyes were struggling to stay open but when he noticed her peering up at him. His face grew a deep shade of red. He still wasn't sure how he felt about this, about being so vulnerable around her. What if she saw him as a pig? A cramp began to twist in his intestines and brought him out of his thought. Although Holly was helping he couldn't relax his body feeling like this.

Holly took notice and frowned " I wish there was more I could do. I bet if my hands were bigger I could soothe your tummy better. " she huffed while looking down at her hands.

This gave Griffin an idea and before he even really thought about it or relayed his idea to Holly he sat up so he could pick Holly up. Although caught off guard she quickly understood what he was up too and she laid on top of him. Griffin wanted her to apply all the pressure she could. What better way than having her lay on him to apply pressure.

Holly allowed her body to melt on top of Griffins. She could feel every gurgle and bubble underneath her. Griffin couldn't help but let out a little moan as he felt hid muscles relax. The cramps slowly started to disappear and he once again felt his eyes feeling heavy. The poor boy was exhausted, it felt as if his body just went through a 24 hour shift.

Griffin put a fist up to his mouth and stifled a burp, which made Holly giggle. She couldn't hide that seeing her muscular boyfriend who wasn't even afraid of the creepy clowns at the county fair be so out of sorts and cradling his sick tummy.

Griffin cheeks flushed when he heard Holly giggling. He felt guilty for taking up so much of her time. What is wrong with me? Ugh. She's probably giggling becaus she thinks I'm a pig. What if she -

Holly's soft voice broke his train of thought

" I've really enjoyed taking care of you today love. You are always taking care of me Griffin. It felt good taking care of you for a change " Holly gave him a kiss on the cheek which only made Griffin blush deeper shades of red. His heart felt so full and love he wrapped his arms around Holly and embraced her in a hug.

" I hope you know how much I appreciate you Holls. I can't- "

A loud growl interrupted the conversation. Although it didn't come from Griffin this time. Holly buried her head into Griffins chest as she felt a symphony of gurgles and growls flow from her empty stomach.

" I think I'm getting a little hungry Griff " she mentioned in a sweet voice.

A smile arose across Griffins face. " Well let's go fix that. "

*** Hey pastel peach here, it's nice to meet you! I love constructive criticism, and I'd love to take you're requests***

[gentlenekomata]

After a good while of searching, such that she begins to fear for her stock of “return” gifts, Maria must turn her sights not only to those she knows, but those she has yet to. Still, she finds herself at somewhat of a loss, and as she sits in the dining hall, chin resting on bridged fingers in a mimicry of her siblings, the young cleric levels a thoughtful stare at her food.

The food, of course, offers no answer, because sweet buns cannot talk. However, beyond the syruped crown of her dessert she spies a head not too unlike hers. That was… Sakura, wasn’t it? She’d seen her around before, she was certain, albeit they had never spoken; though she knew little of her, what Maria was certain of was that she is a kind person— the kind who might even put together such a layered present for a near stranger, even!

“Hello!” Her dessert lies abandoned as she scurries after her, all bright eyes and earnest hands splayed against her chest. “You’re Sakura, aren’t you? I’m Maria!” A beaming smile spreads across her face. “It’s really nice to meet you! Would you… happen to be my secret gift-giver?”

Lazily finishing her dessert, Sakura was unusually sitting alone in the dining hall, eating her lunch with some reservation, as she arrived a little late: the commitment that Seteth has asked her to do, actually took some extra time to be finished and due to this, she happened to be late for reserving a sit with someone. She sighed, not really enjoying the fact she was alone, but as some sort of miracle of belated Christmas, a young woman approached her table, a beaming smile as she introduced herself and asked her about a secret gift she received from someone she didn’t know.

On the contrary, she thought that Sakura was her Secret Santa and that was quite amusing, since Sakura herself was kind of lost during the holidays, so she practically lost track of everyone, especially the loved ones, even though she tried her best to make the most of her happy wishes and little presents. Anyhow, the cute girl would be deluded, but she wasn’t her secret gift-giver.. but she could immediately become one.

“Yeah, I’m Sakura and it’s my utter pleasure to meet you, Lady Maria!” she couldn’t help but address to everyone with a gentle yet formal tone. “I’m not your secret Santa, I’m afraid..” she lowered her tone, gazing at the plate in front of her, but soon after, she lifted her face to meet her gaze, a lovely expression as she lingered on her visage a little longer before replying. “But I can become it, if you’d like it” and she gently removed the flower in her hair and she offered it to her, hoping she would still appreciate it.

“I’m sure it would look good on you” and she lastly giggled, hoping to have gifted at least a smile upon her face.

[fiskerpen]

Archetype 101

Hey, @breaker-apart! I am your Secret Santa for the Psychonauts Secret Santa! Here’s a story on Raz teaching the interns how to summon archetypes! Hope you enjoy!

[Story’s under the Read More. Fair warning-it is chonky.] 

“Scanning...Access Denied”

Raz groaned as he leaned his head against the dorm room door. The stupid ThinkerPrint scanner for his door had been on the fritz for no good reason for the past couple of days, and it was especially finicky today. He just wanted to work on the flower pot he was painting for Lili while he had a break from his studies, and instead, he's stuck outside his room like a racecar driver who left his engine keys in his car. He wished someone would fix the scanner, or at the very least he could slip under the door-

 An idea popped into his head.

Raz took a deep breath before closing his eyes, putting his hands to his temples. He focused all his thoughts on what he’s looking for until he manifested a pencil in mid-air. He visualized the sketching process in his mind, from the rough shapes down to the details, until he could feel a familiar friend pop back into existence.

“Yippee! Hiya, Clone!”

“Hey Archie,” Raz replied, waving back to his archetype, “Nice to see you! Hey, can you help me open that door, please?”

“Sure thing, buddy!” the paper-thin projection responded in his usual chipper tune before taking a good look under the door. He then quickly slid under the door and into the dorm room.

“Uh oh. No door lock!”

“No problem!” Raz answered, “There should be a button near the door…”

“Like this?” the archetype replied just moments before the doors opened.

“Exactly! Thank you so much-”

“Hi, new friends!”

Raz turned to the direction his archetype was waving to and saw Morris and Sam staring at the both of them.

“Um…” Morris finally broke the silence, “what the heck is that?”

“Hey, it’s Raz’s twin!”

“Not quite, Sam. Guys, this is my Archetype-”

“He’s my clone!” the archetype chimed in, scooting to the two junior psychonauts, “He's a little confused, but otherwise very bright!”

“Thanks, Archie,” Raz sighed.

“How did you make this?” Morris asked, lightly poking the psychic paper person.

“I simply summoned him from my subconscious via mental projection,” Raz explained, “much like a thought bubble, only-”

“Hey,” Sam interrupted, “if there's two of me, I could get the diner working in no time at all!”

“I really think you should rethink the pancake recipe,” Morris interjected, “but I'd love extra help at KLOB! Not that your brother isn't helpful—Queepie has great taste in tunes!”

“Hey, how about you teach us your trick?”

“Really?” Raz replied, feeling himself grin with pride.

“Yeah!” Morris responded.

“How does tonight sound?” Raz asked.

“By the campfire in the Questionable Area!” Raz's doppelganger added, “we could make snacks by the fire!”

“Perfect!” Morris replied

“Yeah, I can have Fur Lancelot watch the diner during your class!”

“We'll see you at the campfire, then!” Raz said

“See you tonight, guys!” The archetype chimed, waving goodbye to the two teens.

“See you!” Sam replied before she and Morris headed off.

“Woohoo!” Archie cheered, turning into an airplane and doing a loop around Raz before heading inside the dorm room, “we get to hang out with other people!”

“Yeah!” he replied as he followed the airplane inside, “just need to figure out what snacks to serve…”

**********

“...And it's perfect! Set it down!”

“Thanks, Archie!” Raz replied as he placed the last of the towels near the fireplace. Having his projection see how the layout looked from the stage helped him set up the campfire area just so for his presentation. Near the towels surrounding the fire was a cooler of beverages and a fold-up table with various skewers and plates of grilled corn, bowls of gnocchi, and even the fixings for smores (Raz wanted to make more, but he has yet to figure out any vegetarian campfire meals). He got some electric lanterns set up at opposite ends of the stage to add extra lighting to the area. All that's left is…

“Hey, I need to set up the fire now-”

“Say no more, clone! Bye-bye for now!”

And with that, the paper version of him poofed himself out of existence.

With nothing to accidentally catch aflame, he focused on projecting his thoughts of Lili's prowess in pyrokinesis onto the pile of fresh firewood he placed in the center. In a flash, the fire roared to life, burning brightly in the evening. There was something about the glow of the campfire that made him feel like he was back at Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp. For some reason, being at camp and training his psychic powers for the first time simultaneously felt much longer and much shorter than a few weeks ago. He could still see the opening speech Oleander gave at the start of camp (and his adventure, really).

“The Human Mind,” Raz found himself recreating Oleander’s speech from the first day of camp as he slowly walked up and down the stage, “600 miles of synaptic fiber, five and a half ounces of cranial fluid, 1500 grams of complex neural matter…a three-pound pile of dreams. But I'll tell you what it really is. It is the ultimate battleground—and, the ultimate weapon. The wars of this modern age—The Psychic Age—are fought somewhere between these damp, curvaceous undulations.”

“Is that Coach Oleander’s speech?”

Raz yelped as he jumped away from Sam. “When did you come in?” he sheepishly asked.

“At some passage about cranial fluid.”

“Hey, Raz!” Morris shouted, toting a radio in hand, “nice spread!”

“Thanks! I tried to get as much food as I could.”

“Wait, where are the hotdogs?”

“Well, I didn’t know what to serve, since I didn’t know if anyone would get dinner before coming here-”

Raz’s eyes widened when he realized the person he was talking to was neither Sam nor Morris.

“Gisu?!? What are you doing here?”

“Morris invited me,” Gisu replied, grabbing a big ear of corn, “and the rest of us.”

As Raz looked out to the hollow log archway separating the campfire area from the rest of the Questionable Area, he saw Adam come in, with Lizzie and Norma following close by.

“...You even invited Norma?” Raz added quietly, groaning.

“Lizzie’s got an eye on her,” Sam replied, grabbing a bowl of gnocchi.

“Hey, Raz,” Adam greeted, “I heard you’re teaching us Mental Projection, and wanted to see!”

“I heard you got snacks,” Lizzie said, walking up to the table.

“What, no hot dogs?”

“I know already, Norma.”

“Buzz off, sis,” Lizzie responded, “he’s got an obscene amount of smores fixings.”

As the other Junior Psychonauts were chattering, Raz noticed a tall figure with slicked-back hair, followed by a young girl with her hair in two large, ring-like curls

“...Dion? Mirtala?”

“Hi, Pooter!” Mirtala chimed, “I wanted to see your big presentation!”

“And the smores table! I saw you eyeballing the chocolate the entire afternoon,” his older brother added, “As for me, I’m just here for crowd control, and in case we need to restock the table.”

“Are you going to ask her out?” Mirtala asked, leaning in towards Dion.

“Tala!” he replied, turning bright red at his younger sister’s question, “Shush!”

“Okay! You gotta do it sooner or later, though!”

As Mirtala and Dion sat down with the rest of the teens, it sank into Raz that more people had come to this than he thought there would. Not that it was entirely bad—he kind of wanted to hang out with the Junior Psychonauts outside of assignments and missions, and the more, the merrier. Still, the mere idea of screwing it up in front of so many people made his heart race more than he’d like to.

This isn’t the circus, he thought to himself, Nor is this a mission. You’re not going to fall or die if you screw it up.

After a bit, he clapped to get the attention of everyone at the campfire.

“I wanna start by thanking everyone for coming out here!” he started, “I kind of didn’t expect such a turn-out…”

The silence around the campfire scared him more than he'd like to admit.

“...Anyways, as explained in Cassie O’Pia’s book Mindswarm, mental projection is the ability to summon a 2D representation of one of your archetypes to help you on certain tasks, ranging from unlocking doors to helping you recover mental energy. Some can even use it to multi-task on psychic tasks!”

“When are you going to summon the Paper Boy?”

“He was probably going to get to that, Lizzie,” Adam remarked.

“Exactly,” Raz replied.

“Show us the Paper Boy!”

“Tala, he’s getting to that!” Dion shouted

Getting the memo in full, Raz put his hand onto his temple.

“I first visualize my archetype in my mind…”

As he focused, a pencil appeared in mid-air and got to work.

“When I summon him, I usually try and think about literally sketching him out until-”

As if on cue, his archetype popped into existence

“Aww, it’s you!” he replied to Raz, “My best friend! What’s your name again?”

“He really is made of paper!”

“Tala!”

“No Dion, it’s okay!” Raz responded as his archetype waved back to Mirtala, “Though I think I want some of the others to have a chance to speak…”

“...How did you learn this again?” Norma asked.

“I was taught this by Cassie O’Pia herself!”

“What counts as an Archetype?” Adam asks.

“Oh right, forgot that part,” Raz responded, “Basically, it’s a part of your personality you present to others, whether friends or family…”

“What were you thinking about when you summoned Flat You?”

“Simple, Mirtala! I was…”

Raz went quiet as he realized mid-answer that he didn’t honestly know. As he learned the power between finding out what Ford did and helping Nona fight Maligula, he really couldn't remember what on earth he was thinking of when he summoned his archetype for the first time.

“I like your loops!” The archetype remarked before lightly tugging Mirtala's curls.

“Archie, careful!”

“It's okay Raz! He's gentle!” Mirtala chimed in, giggling. As she spoke, Dion swatted at the paper projection. Before his hand touched him, though, the archetype turned into an airplane once more, making airplane noises as he circled Dion's head before heading back to the stage.

"I'm sorry," Raz said, "he's usually a handful, but he's never been this bad…"

"It's cool," Sam responded, while Gisu tried to contain her chuckling from Archie's little stunt.

“Why do you call him Archie?” Morris asked.

“I felt like he needed a name,” Raz said, “Because…you know…calling him ���my clone’ would be repetitive, and a little dehumanizing…”

“Aww!” Archie replied, “my clone thinks he’s real!”

“Why does he think you’re the clone?” Lizzie asked.

“...You know, I can't recall…”

“No offense, Archie, but I think she was talking to me.”

“Rats!” The paper projection exclaimed before wandering to a different point on the stage in an exaggerated huff.

“To be fair,” Raz said, trying to rerail the situation, “I don't even know either. Enough questions about my archetype, though! Do you think you understand Mental Projection?”

“All set!” Gisu responded, giving the “thumbs up” expression. No one objected.

“Good!” Raz responded, “I want to see what you think up!”

What followed was a bit of semi-quiet chatter as the teens tried to figure out what to summon as their archetype. Sam and Adam stared at the fire, Morris drummed his fingers on his lawn chair, Norma and Lizzie were talking amongst each other, Gisu paced the area while eating the kernels off her ear of corn, and Mirtala got a big bowl of gnocchi. Dion ended up being the first to dive into trying to summon his archetype, but his attempts only went halfway before he either lost focus or change his mind.

“You can do it, Dion!” Tala cheered, her mouth full of gnocchi

“Aw dangit,” Dion muttered as he once again lost focus, “Thanks, Tala, but I need my utmost attention on this.”

“Okie,” she replied before tossing more cheese-stuffed pasta bites into her mouth.

Ultimately, Gisu was the first to successfully summon her archetype, bringing forth a blocky cartoon scientist on a skateboard.

“Glorious progress!” the new archetype shouted.

“Good job, Gisu!” Raz exclaimed.

“Thanks! I think I gave her too thick an accent, though…”

“That’s okay!” he responded, “you’ll get better with practice!”

“Hey, new friend!” Raz’s archetype chimed, leaving the stage area once again to check out the new projection.

“Are you a new assistant?” the archetype asked, leaning towards Archie.

“I think! What do you need me for?”

“A billion ideas, but right now I just need to test out how fast my hoverboard can go.”

“You mean like this?” Archie responded before morphing into a paper airplane. He then zoomed all around the campfire while making plane noises.

“Yes, yes! Perfect!” Gisu’s archetype exclaimed before bolting forward on her hoverboard, chasing the airplane throughout the area.

“Wow, your archetype and mine are hitting it off really well.”

“Yeah,” Raz responded, “So what were you think of when you designed…er…”

“Professor Pragata? Well, I guess I was thinking of my inventions and wanting to finish them…”

“Oh. I see-”

“Gotchya!” Pragata chimed, taking a quick hold of Archie’s plane form before letting it glide to the ground. As he returned to his papery self, he seemed to shake his head.

“You’re crazy fast! Did you have to yank me out of the sky, though?”

“Sorry assistant! Needed to see if I truly reached you!”

Another archetype popped into existence, this time a simplistic figure of a young man in a tux on a lawn chair/thought bubble device similar to Morris’s.

“This is Radio Martinez, brought to you live by yours truly, Captain Ritmo!”

“Awesome sauce!” Mirtala exclaimed, “your paper man is so cool!”

“Glad you think so,” Morris replied, “because I am no visual artist…”

“It’s not about the looks of the archetype,” Raz responded, “it’s about what you put in it!”

“Got it!” Adam said as his archetype, a cloaked figure holding a staff with a yoyo tied to it, came into existence.

“Aw, man!” Morris exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air “I’m surrounded by artists!”

"Speak for yourself," Dion grumbled, once again discarding his progress on his archetype.

“Perhaps you’re overthinking it,” Adam’s archetype told Dion in a calm voice.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I think he means you’re focusing too much on making it just so!” Raz added, “I mean, Cassie's archetypes weren't perfect. Heck, Archie is not perfect-"

"I'm pretty darn close, though!" Archie retorted while standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to poke the staff of Adam's archetype.

"...What I'm saying is just try and think of what you need for the situation and focus on that...”

“What I need is to get this right! And not screw it up-”

“Be more specific with your hypothesis!”

Dion let out a loud, high-pitched shriek and fell flat on his back after Professor Pragata told him her advice a little too close to his face. From that scene, the group broke into laughter. Even Raz found himself holding back chuckling.

“Sweet Comedy gold!”

“You can say that again!” Morris told his archetype, “Man, I wish I brought a video camera!”

“You don’t have a video camera.”

“Well, Lizzie, I wish I bought one, then!”

“I’m not Lizzie, I’m Datura.”

“Wait, what-”

Morris quickly realized the person he was talking to was a paper version of his classmate wearing a loose sundress and shades.

“Whoa!” Raz exclaimed, “Lizzie, when did you summon your archetype?”

“Shortly before your older brother did a flawless impression of a fainting goat.”

“I did not!”

“It was perfect, Dion!”

"It wasn't perfect," Sam responded, "it needed more locked limbs and bleating…"

“Tala, Sam, not helping!”

“Guys,” Raz said, “Let’s allow Dion some time to think.”

“Aww,” Tala muttered.

“Cheer up, Tala!” Archie chimed in, walking up to Mirtala, “We could talk to the others!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Just follow me, Tala!”

“Hey Raz!” Mirtala shouted, “Wanna join Archie and me?”

“Thanks, Tala,” Raz answered, “But I think I want to make certain the others can summon their archetypes.”

“Okay,” Mirtala says, “suit yourself…”

As he watched Mirtala and Archie play with each other, Raz felt he was being watched somehow. He looked behind him and saw a paper cutout of a woman in a 50’s styled trenchcoat and hat looking at him through a magnifying glass.

“Let me guess,” Raz said dryly, “you’re Norma’s archetype.”

“Shh!” the archetype hushed, “I’m not here.”

“Don’t answer him, Lefue!” Norma shouted, bewildered at her archetype’s statement.

“Seems your archetype needs a little work as well,” Raz said, grinning. Norma, grunting in frustration, stormed to a different section of the fireplace area. Raz turned to address Lefue but realized she had disappeared while he was talking to Norma.

“Guess I'm going to have to keep an eye on her,” Raz mumbled to himself as we walked off the stage and into the main area. He couldn’t make out specific conversations through the chatter of both people and archetypes, but he could see Mirtala talking to the others, Ritmo trying to provide commentary with Datura acting as a cohost, Norma talking to Lefue, and Gisu and Pragata trying to help Dion.

“Still having trouble?” Raz said to Dion, tilting his head.

“I really don’t know what to summon…”

“Perhaps think of someone you’d like as an assistant?” Gisu responded, “I know I made Pragata because I wanted a partner I can bounce ideas off of and help make them work.”

“We’re partners in crime and progress!” Pragata chimed.

“You said it, sister!” Archie exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Raz replied, “I’d have to say Gisu has a great approach in it!”

“So,” Dion said, “What’s Archie’s purpose?”

“...To help me open doors and get me through Maligula?”

“Wait,” Dion replied, “are you saying you can't remember what you were focusing on when you summoned Archie?”

“Well,” Gisu said, “if that night was what I think it was, it was busy…”

“My thoughts exactly!” Pragata chimed in, “sometimes we lose track of stuff on busy days!”

“You know,” Raz said, trying to dodge the conversation, “I should probably check on Sam! I don't think she has summoned her—What the?!?”

“Sam,” Ritmo shouted, pointing at the paper sheep with ridiculously buff arms attached to its back, “what the hell is that?!?”

“Guys,” Sam said in a matter-of-fact tone, “This is Bernatrice! She'll help me get the diner into shape!”

“I…” Raz muttered, “I don't think I'm going to ask further questions on Bernatrice…”

“Look at how swole her arms are!”

“Archie, what does that word even mean?”

Raz’s archetype looked at his creator with wide eyes.

“...You know, I can’t remember now…”

Razputin groaned, holding his head.

“You know what?” Dion said, standing up, “We need more marshmallows! I’m going to go and get more marshmallows…”

“But we have plenty of marshmallows!” Mirtala exclaimed, “we don’t need marshmallows-”

“I don’t think this is about marshmallows,” Lizzie responded as Dion marched out of the campfire area and through the log archway.

“So, how are you feeling today?” Archie asked Bernatrice, who only bleated in response.

“What's she saying?” Mirtala asked

“That Devon's robe needs more green in it,” Archie replied,

“...Anyways,” Adam's archetype replied, “what do we do now?”

“I could try to make an archetype!”

“Are you certain?” Raz told Mirtala, “it’s a pretty advanced psychic ability…”

“I can try!”

“She can most certainly try!” Archie responded, “go ahead, sister!”

“I’m going to make a unicorn!”

“Tala, maybe focus on something you need…”

“Well, I need a unicorn!”

At this point, Raz decided to stop talking and let her focus on “summoning” a unicorn. Best to let her have her fun, after all.

“Hey, clone, what would it be like if I were a horse?”

“I haven’t thought of it,” Raz muttered.

“Hey,” the paper projection expressed, “you okay there buddy?”

“Yeah,” Raz said, “just…I was only expecting one or two people to arrive and teaching all of them at once is a bit draining…”

“Even Bernatrice?”

“Especially her.”

A bottle hits Raz’s face, provoking a yelp from him.

“Here’s a cola!” Lizzie shouted before getting one for herself, “for your valiant efforts to herd psychic cats.”

“Thanks, Lizzie,” Raz said as he picked up the bottle.

“Yeah, thanks!” Archie added, “My clone gets tired really easily!”

“So, Professor Pragata,” Ritmo asked “what’ll happen if we touched the fire? Will we go through it?”

“Potentially!” Pragata answered, “We are psychic projections of our creators’ minds and not physical objects, after all. I haven’t tested my hypothesis, though. Wanna assist me in my tests?”

“No, but I can record them! Hey Datura!”

“Let me guess, Ritmo, you want me to help you and Pragata test if we are flammable.”

“Exactly! I’m recording for KLOB!”

“Okay,” Datura replied, “but in turn, if something happens to me, tell Morris to allow Lizzie full reign of music selection for at least an hour.”

“Hey!” Morris shouted.

“What was that about-”

“Let us see for the sake of progress!” Pragata shouted, interrupting Lizzie, “One! Two-”

“STOP!” Raz screamed at the top of his lungs “DON’T TOUCH THE FIRE!”

“Huh?” Pragata asked, tilting her head.

“You’re right in that you are psychic projections, but fire can and will hurt you!”

“Yeah, you’ll burn like twigs!” Archie added to Raz’s warnings, “trust me! That hurts a lot!”

“...Okay, experiment canceled. Back away from the fire immediately.”

“Dammit! Now, what am I going to give Morris for KLOB?”

“How about something less dangerous, Ritmo?”

“Er,” Ritmo stammered at Morris, “Sorry about that…”

“Pragata,” Gisu said, “Don’t do anything as dangerous as that ever again!”

“At least no one got caught on fire,” Lizzie said.

Suddenly, panicked bleating and screaming cut into the night as Bernatrice bounced around, lit up from the fire she poked way too close to. Everyone started scampering away from the burning paper goat, which was made difficult by Bernatrice moving surprisingly fast.

“Quick!” Norma shouted, “someone put out the fire!”

“She's moving far too fast for me to put her out,” Lizzie yelled, “at least without accidentally freezing something in the process!”

“Sam!” Raz shouted, “recall Bernatrice! Quickly!”

“Alright,” Sam said before putting her head to her temples, “I’ve been thinking of making adjustments on her anyways.” Just like that, the bleating fire just disappeared.

“Thank goodness,” Morris sighed.

“You're making adjustments to her?” Raz asked.

“Yep,” Sam responded.

And in a poof, Bernatrice was back, only with buffer arms and a bow on her head.

“There! Better.”

“She’s even prettier!” Mirtala chimed.

“She’s so swole!”

“Again, Archie, what the hell does that mean?”

“I still don’t know,” Archie told Raz, “but I’ll find a meaning soon enough!”

Raz just groaned, holding his head. He barely had time to breathe before he heard loud music playing.

“Let’s get this back on track!” Morris said, cranking up the radio. Raz could tell Queepie was DJing for KLOB again because Welcome to My Life started booming in the area. Raz usually didn’t mind the song—heck, it was very catchy—but if there was going to be music, he was hoping to show the others Psychodyssey or some other songs from Helmut. He found his hands instinctively going to his ears.

“Doo dee Doo dee Doo dee Doo!”

Raz looked over to his archetype, who was making random noises while doing a silly dance with Pragata. At one point, he waves at Raz. Raz forces himself a grin and waves back at him.

Raz could see his archetype's smile drop briefly before returning to his usual goofy grin. Archie then broke out of his dance and shifted into his airplane mode, gliding to the other side of the area while making airplane noises along the way. He then lands near Morris and walks up to his radio.

“Let's get some new beats into the mix!” Archie announced before channels on the radio.

“Hey!” Morris shouted, “What the-”

“Too chill…” Archie muttered as he continued to switch channels, “Too aggressive...Too sad...Too country...Don't know what that music style is...They’re just talking sports…”

“Archie,” Raz uttered, “I think that's enough-”

“Ooo!” Archie chimed as Milla's favorite song played on the latest channel, “I like this song!”

Archie went back to dancing and making noise…

...Up until Ritmo changed the channel back on the radio.

“Hey man,” Archie spoke, “I liked that song!”

“Fine!” Ritmo retorted, “just don't touch my radio!”

“Change it back!”

“No! KLOB is the best!”

“We need something new!”

“We need the best!”

“Let's hear the song again!” Archie shouted as he reached for the dial, only for Ritmo to slap his hand away from the radio. In response, Archie slapped his face. Before long, the two archetypes started slapping themselves with reckless abandon, yelling at each other all at once.

“...Are they fighting?” Norma asked in confusion.

“Dumbest fight I've ever seen,” Lizzie responded.

“Alright,” Devon said, walking up to the fighting archetypes, “break it up, you two.”

“He won't stop touching my radio!”

“Don't be such a dictator!”

“Archie, stop!”

“But I like that song, clone!” Archie shouted at Raz.

Raz groaned, holding his head again as the argument continued. This was going out of hand far too quickly.

“Hey, brother?”

“Yes, Tala?”

“I can't summon the unicorn.”

At this point, if Raz didn't do something, he'd explode.

“Okay, everyone!” Raz shouted, “It's smores time!”

“But Dion's not done yet!” Gisu cried out.

“Too bad!” Raz retorted, grabbing the bag of marshmallows, “Smores time!”

“Finally!” Sam said, petting Bernatrice, “I was waiting for smores all evening…”

Raz tugged on the bag, but couldn't get the bag open.

“That bag looks tough,” Mirtala remarked.

“I know,” he replied, tugging even more.

“Do you need help?” Adam asked.

“I'm fine!” Raz responded, pulling even harder, “I've got this!”

“You look like you're about to pop a vein,” Lizzie commented.

“Let me handle this!”

“Do you need help?” Norma asked.

“I said I got it!!! Just let me-”

Before he knew it, the bag ripped open, spraying marshmallows in all directions.

Everyone stopped talking as the marshmallows hit the floor. A good chunk of them landed into the fire, turning to black goo as the flame claimed them.

Raz heard a snicker. Then another brief one. He swears he could hear an archetype chuckle.

Raz’s heart sank like a rock as he felt the world go silent. He thought he heard someone ask him something, but the words felt too far away. All he could hear was his rapidly-beating heart.

Without thinking, Raz ran out of the campfire area.

As he ran, he heard the muffled voices go quieter, save for one.

“Buddy, come back!” The muffled voice wailed, but he couldn't return. He didn't want to.

Before he knew it, Raz was running through the Forgetful Forest.

**********

“Hey Buddy!” his archetype asserted, flying through the woods to try and catch up to Raz, “Hey, slow down! Wait up!”

While Raz was starting to run out of steam, he still felt the need to keep running. The gathering was a disaster. The whole thing was a disaster. He could barely see through his clouded-over eyes, but he had to keep running.

He suddenly tripped over something he didn't see, falling straight onto his face.

“There, there,” He heard Archie say as he rubbed his back, “it's okay, buddy.”

“...It's not…” Raz whimpered quietly, “It…it’s not…”

His archetype said nothing in response, and instead, he continued the back rubs. Raz once again sniffled, balling up his fists. It wasn’t fair…

“Hey, Cassie!”

Raz lifted his head and realized he was near the beehive where he first encountered Cassie as the “Green Needle Witch”...and nearby was Cassie herself, worry painted all over her face.

“Razputin!” Cassie said, rushing over to Raz’s side to help him up, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“No…” Razputin mumbled, trying to hold back tears.

“My clone tried to teach mental projection!” Archie stated in his usual chipper tone.

“How sweet! I take it the lesson didn’t go well, though…”

“Not at all!” Raz shouted, “The archetypes all had minds of their own! Some of them nearly got themselves burned! One got burned! I couldn’t keep the gathering on track, and the marshmallows for smores-”

“Raz,” Cassie interrupted, “did anyone get hurt?”

“...Only an Archetype, but she’s more or less better.”

“Ah, Xiètiānxièdì,” Cassie replied, sighing in relief, “so, what’s troubling you?”

“I only planned to teach Sam and Morris tonight. Instead, not only did all the Junior Psychonauts come, but so did Dion and Mirtala. I wanted to hang out with them, but there was just too much happening, and then I made a marshmallow bag explode…”

“Oh dear,” Cassie said, “that sounds like too many things happened at once…”

“...Cassie?”

“Yes, Raz?”

“How do you make certain an event goes as planned?”

Cassie chuckled.

“What was that?” Raz whimpered again.

“Sorry!” Cassie said, “Just…you want to hear something amusing?”

“...Yes?”

“Well, back before Lucy went back to Grulovia and…you know…I’d try to hold meetings and gatherings with the rest of the Psychic 7.”

“You did?”

“Yes! Emphasis on ‘tried’, though. Every time, I’d try to keep whatever I’m doing on track, and every time, it goes sideways in ways I didn’t even think about!”

“Every time?”

“Every single time! Helmut would get distracted over some detail, Bob would be too shy to share something, Ford and Lucy were too busy flirting, Otto would advertise his half-thought-out inventions, some meetings ended in song, Compton accidentally let a bear loose in the Heptadome, my house got flooded twice by accident, Ford thought he was a janitor after accidentally eating psitanium cupcakes, a wild hog ate one of my batches of honey from the table, and the less said about the time Ford and Otto’s brains accidentally got swapped, the better!”

“Wow, that’s bad,” Raz replied, trying to contain his chuckling over the hog incident.

“It was! If there was something I learned from all that, it’s that sometimes, when what we plan goes completely out the window, what's important is to find your footing and figure out what to do next before you fall on your face.”

“Like perfecting your fall so you don’t break any bones.”

“Or deciding not to fight a hog.”

Raz broke into laughter at Cassie’s comment.

“I like your stories, Cassie!” Archie chimed in.

“Why, thank you!” Cassie said, bowing to Archie.

“See, clone? You just needed to go with the flow! Just like I said!”

“Archie, you didn’t tell me.”

“True. I was trying to help you learn it yourself, though! I know you like to learn through doing…”

“Maybe we try and work on your communication, Archie,” Raz responded.

“Say,” Cassie said, “how about I walk you back to the gathering?”

“Hi, Lefue!” Archie chimed.

“Hey, I found them!” Lefue shouted into the distance, “They’re over here!”

“Thank goodness!” Pragata exclaimed, rolling into view with her creator not too far behind her, “I swear, this forest is like a labyrinth!”

“...I guess the gathering found me,” Raz said.

“It’s just me, Norma, and our archetypes,” Gisu stated, rolling up to Raz, “the rest of us are cleaning up the area from the marshmallow rain—Is that Cassie O’Pia?”

“It is!” She exclaimed, “I’m so glad to meet a fan!”

“Yeah…” Gisu muttered, looking to the side, “he told you everything, didn’t he?”

“Pretty much.”

“Look, Raz…I’m sorry about the snickering,” Gisu said, “It wasn’t cool at all, and even if we thought it was funny, it was clearly not funny on your end…”

“It’s fine,” Raz responded, “I probably should’ve excused myself for a moment before I got overwhelmed. I just…I really wanted to hang out with you guys…”

“Personally, I think you did pretty well with your gathering!”

“Really?” Raz asked.

“Your actual lesson may need a bit of work,” Pragata interrupted, “and you might need to get a bigger variety of food, but you did craft the entire event in less than half a day, so I must ultimately agree!”

“Thanks, Pragata,” Raz responded as Gisu pushed her hand into her face.

“Raz, are archetypes always this…”

“Out of control?” Raz replied, “I think the answer’s a solid ‘Yes’.”

“Archetypes can’t always be controlled, but they can become more cooperative!” Cassie said, “It just takes quite a bit of practice, that’s all.”

“Oh?” Gisu asked.

“You see, while the archetypes summoned for mental projection are often created to help us in certain tasks, they are derived from a facet of our own personality! It means they can be attuned to ourselves, but it means they can suffer from vices we have…”

“Like blurting out things she shouldn’t?”

“Or acting out?”

“Or worrying about what others think?”

“Archie,” Raz groaned.

“Exactly!” Cassie said, “Oftentimes, dealing with an archetype’s vices involves working on our own vices, which is still easier said than done, but way simpler than wrangling an archetype!”

Cassie then paused, thinking a moment.

“...Say, how about I help out in your lesson? Helps to have an expert on there, after all!”

“Sure thing!” Raz responded, “We even got snacks! There was going to be smores, but…you know…”

“Hmm?” Gisu hummed before putting her fingers to her temples.

“What is it?”

“Raz, your brother came back to the site! He actually brought way more marshmallows!”

“Yay!” Archie shouted, “Smores!”

“So," Raz asked, "do we head back now, or…?”

“As soon as we find Norma,” Gisu said, “we can head back to the campgrounds.”

Just then, the bushes rustled as a figure covered in twigs landed on her face with a grunt.

“I found her!” Lefue shouted.

“Oh my god,” Norma said, lifting her head, “please shut up—Is that Cassie O’Pia?!?”

“It is!” Cassie exclaimed.

**********

When Raz returned to the campfire area with the rescue party and Cassie, a fair amount of focus went immediately to the member of the Psychic 7. Dion and Mirtala, on the other hand, were more focused on Raz.

“Don't scare us like that,” Dion shouted, “especially Mirtala!”

“I wasn't scared! I was worried!” Mirtala added, hugging Raz, “I wanted to come help find you, but Norma said I'd get lost in the forest!”

“There, there, Tala,” Raz responded, hugging back, “sorry for that…”

“It’s okay!”

“Next time, Pooter, tell me if you were getting overwhelmed.”

“Thanks, Dion,” Raz said.

What followed next was a blur, between Cassie’s lessons and Raz’s interactions, all leading up to everyone surrounding the fire as they toasted marshmallows.

“Darnit,” Gisu muttered as her marshmallow caught aflame, “This is the third one in a row!”

“You’re placing the marshmallow a little too close to the flame,” Dion said as he poked his toasting fork through the marshmallow, “Usually, the heat from the fire is enough to toast it. Just keep it above the fire, and you’ll have golden, gooey marshmallows in no time!”

“Dion,” Gisu said in a playful tone, “I didn’t know you were an expert on marshmallows.”

“Well, when you lead smores night countless times for your younger siblings, you get an understanding on marshmallows…”

“Eww!” Archie said from across the way, “they’re flirting in front of my smores!”

“It’s so sweet!” Mirtala responded.

“I’m just happy Dion got a chance to talk to her,” Raz added.

“Tell me about it,” Lizzie said, “She wouldn’t stop talking about Dion since first laying eyes on him…”

“If I can hear you,” Pragata retorted, “so can they!”

“Sorry!” Mirtala shouted.

“Hey, Pooter,” Lizzie said, facing Raz, “Sorry about chuckling at you earlier. I did not mean to do that…”

“Hey,” Raz replied, “it’s water under the bridge.”

Lizzie shot a look at Morris’s direction.

“Yeah,” Morris said, “sorry about me and Ritmo.”

“Water under the bridge,” Raz repeated.

“Got it.”

“Hey Raz,” Adam spoke up, “this was a really good evening! Thanks for hosting!”

“No problem!”

“How about we do it again next Friday?” Sam asked.

“Uh, maybe we take turns hosting this?”

“Sure thing,” Sam replied, “I can show you guys tips on how to handle animals! Who knows, maybe I can bring gramps along as well…”

“Hey, can you also bring Dogen?”

“Of course!”

Bernatrice bleated, holding out a plate with graham crackers and chocolate on them,

“Thanks, girl!” she said as she squished her marshmallow into a gooey sandwich.

Raz looked around and saw his friends and their archetypes socializing amongst each other. Seeing how he had helped them figure out mental projection and their archetypes gave him a sense of pride and even kinship.

And yet a question still burned inside him.

“Aw, this gathering reminds me of the Green Needle Gulch days!” Cassie said, toasting her marshmallow over the fire, “I should try to do more gatherings with my friends now that Helmut and Lucy are back…”

“So…Cassie?”

“Yes, Raz?”

“What do you think my archetype represents?”

“Pardon?” Cassie replied, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“I noticed the other Junior Psychonauts basically had what they wanted and their purpose figured out. I, on the other hand, can’t remember what I summoned him for, and don’t even know his purpose aside from helping me in puzzles…”

“I’d honestly be surprised if you did have something figured out!”

“What?”

“As I said before in my mental world, important challenges in our lives can cause us to create entirely new identities for ourselves. For example, Counterfeiter was created when I was abandoned by my parents to a printing press, whereas Writer was created when I decided to write Mindswarm to get the money I needed to flee my home.”

“And the Librarian was made after the fight with Maligula?”

“She was made quite a bit of time before that, but it was when she became the dominant archetype. The point is, archetypes often come from life’s experience, and the reason Archie isn’t as focused or developed as the others is that you are still figuring out yourself.”

“Oh…”

“That being said, from my interactions with you and Archie is that he's most likely based on how you were as a child—very goofy, quite impulsive, a little cheeky, but just as much a good kid as you are. He's a companion for whenever you need one, whether you're trying to reach new locations, you need to see new perspectives, or if you're overstimulated and running through the woods.”

“So he's basically comic relief?”

“Which isn’t a bad thing! Joy and laughter can be crucial when times turn dark—”

“Hey, buddy!” Archie shouted, “Your marshmallow is burning!”

Raz quickly pulled away his toasting stick to see a blackened marshmallow.

“At least I caught it before it caught on fire,” Raz said as he put the marshmallow between graham crackers and chocolate.

“Yay! It’s edible!”

Raz chuckled at his archetype’s cheers before a bite of the gooey, sweet stack.

[writewolf90]

Pickup Line #2

“Do you have a boyfriend? Do you want one?”

Yugi shifted nervously on his feet, glancing around the room wondering who would be the one to approach him. He gently gnawed on a carrot stick, letting his eyes dart around the floor as if he was watching a table tennis match. His heart pounded in his chest but his adrenaline made him feel frozen to his chosen spot in the corner of the room.

“They refilled the dip, you know.” 

To say that Yugi was surprised would be an understatement as he shot straight up in the air at the sound of a voice right beside him. He estimated he had jumped probably a good foot or two in the air. He swung around to see who had disturbed his anxiety so profoundly. His boss’s brother with the wild black hair stood smiling at him, holding a plate of assorted foods. 

“Mokuba!” he gasped. “Don’t do that!” 

“Do what?”

“Scare me like that!”

“Oh, sorry,” the younger man said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I was just saying hi. And it didn’t look like you had much to eat yet.”

Yugi glanced down at the last bite of his carrot stick and lifted it a bit with a shrug. “I’m just not that hungry.”

Mokuba raised an eyebrow. “Most people would take advantage of the free food, you know,” he said, questions lacing his tone. “It is a party, after all. Relax, will you?”

Yugi popped the last of his carrot into his mouth and chewed meticulously, trying to alleviate his nerves that refused to leave him alone.  

“Well,” he said, swallowing. “It is a nice spread. Especially nice touch with the shrimp around the uh, ice sculpture…”

Mokuba hung his head, hiding his eyes behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a little much, isn’t it?”

Yugi laughed. “A Blue Eyes White Dragon ice sculpture seems pretty par for the course at a KaibaCorp party, I suppose.”

Mokuba shook his head and lowered his hand, laughing himself. “Yeah, my brother will go over the top with this stuff sometimes…”

Yugi only smiled. His anxiety was settling back in his stomach and the frozen feeling returned.

“So what are you doing over here? Why aren’t you mingling?” Mokuba asked, taking a bite of the shrimp on his plate.

Yugi blushed and looked down at the floor. “I’m, uh, waiting for my secret Santa.”

Mokuba nodded. “Who did you have to buy for?”

“Anzu,” Yugi said. “From the advertising department.”

“What did you get her?” 

“I found a nice pair of earrings that I thought went with her eyes.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah…”

“Did she like them?”

“Oh yeah, she loved them. It was quite an accomplishment finding something like that under the price limit.”

Mokuba smiled. “That’s good. Who do you think got you?”

Yugi bit his lip and scanned the room again until his eyes landed on Atem Sennen, the new employee from Egypt with the muscular arms, shimmering crimson eyes and dreamy smile that made Yugi’s knees weak. Atem was helping himself to some food at the buffet and nodding along as Jounouchi talked a mile a minute beside him. Atem didn’t seem to be paying all that much attention, but Jou also didn’t seem to care as he carried on animatedly. Atem stood up straight and looked ahead, meeting Yugi’s steady gaze. Yugi gasped slightly at the notion of being caught staring, but Atem carried the moment in stride, winking at Yugi before turning back to his conversation partner.

Yugi’s blush took over his entire face and he feared steam, smoke or something strange and obvious would begin pouring out of his ears.

“Um, Yugi?”

Yugi jumped again. “Huh? What?”

Mokuba tilted his head, concern written across his face. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

Yugi shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You kinda spaced out for a sec, there.”

Yugi shook his head again. “No, no I’m ok. I’m just really curious as to who picked me for Secret Santa.”

“Well don’t be nervous. I think you’d be fun to buy for,” Mokuba said with a smile. “Whoever got you must have had a great time finding the perfect gift!” 

Yugi gave a sheepish grin, sure that Mokuba was just saying that to be nice and mumbled a polite ‘thanks.’ He didn’t like attention like that, especially when he was already feeling self-conscious about the affect his very attractive coworker had on him. From the moment they first met and shook hands in the conference room, Yugi was infatuated with Atem. He found himself staring at him during meetings, noticing that he always wore a single earring on the upper part of his left ear but never his right. He had also noticed a hint of a tattoo sleeve peeking out from under the sleeves of his dress shirt but hadn’t had the courage to ask what it was of. He’d also noticed that Atem had the most enchanting smile that could probably hypnotize those who claim the strongest wills alive. It certainly had him enraptured every time he saw it.

And that wink just now, well, Yugi was certain he could never come back from that one.

Mokuba eventually left him to greet other partygoers. The annual KaibaCorp Holiday Party grew larger and larger every year, and Yugi had wondered why it hadn’t blown up into a huge city-wide gala event at this point, but he supposed a Blue Eyes ice sculpture in the underground arena was sufficient.

Yugi stayed put against the wall for another few nervous minutes before he remembered Honda had joked about spiking the punch like a teenager and he wondered just how serious he had been. He sauntered over to the punch bowl, which was hilariously in front of a large Dark Magician ice sculpture. Yugi gave a small smile and poured himself some punch, bringing the rim of the cup to his nose and inhaling.

He snorted. “I knew he didn’t have the guts.”

“If I had known he was gonna chicken out, I’d have brought a flask myself.” 

Yugi was thankful he didn’t have a mouthful of his beverage, because it would have been either choking him, or spraying out across the floor if he had. Atem approached him with a smirk and his own cup of the punch. When he stopped, he leaned his hip against the table and rested on one foot. Damn, those slender hips. Yugi felt a blush creep up on his cheeks again. What he would do between those hips-

“Did you have the fried chicken? It’s divine.”

 Yugi swallowed the lump in his throat and begged his body to calm down.

 “Uh, no, no not yet.”

Atem tilted his head and tipped his cup to Yugi. “Japanese tradition. Can’t forget it this time of year.”

Yugi nodded. “I’ll be sure to get some, then.” His eyes were laser focused on Atem’s. Why the hell did they have to be so luminescent and just…aw hell, he had no better word for them than beautiful. And hypnotizing. And enticing. And boxer-droppingly attractive.

 “So,” Atem said, cutting off Yugi’s thoughts before they could go any further. He couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful. He could thank him by taking him to his empty office and- oh for the love of-

 “You ok?”

 Yugi’s eyes widened and he took a swig of his virgin punch. He nodded as he swallowed the liquid with a moderate amount of effort. “Yeah, yeah just…you know, long night.”

 Atem’s eyes softened a tiny bit. “I noticed you didn’t have much to eat tonight. Maybe you need more food.”

 Yugi bit his lip at the change in the other man’s expression. So cute…

 Atem grinned at Yugi’s silent stare. “Well, actually, before that, I had a question.”

 Yugi snapped himself into full awareness and blinked. “Oh?” What could this divine, godlike man dripping with sex appeal have to ask him?

 Atem bit his own lip for a moment before meeting Yugi’s eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

 If Yugi had felt frozen before, he felt completely and utterly petrified now. He couldn’t even break a sweat. All of his pores sealed up. His lungs ceased to inhale or exhale. His heart went numb and he couldn’t tell if it had stopped or gone into turbo-drive. His eyes widened but his pupils were the size of the point of a needle. His muscles tensed and relaxed at the same time. His body was rendered useless, including his vocal cords.

 “Uhhh,” was all Yugi could manage.

 Atem raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Is that a no?”

 Yugi exhaled but it came out as more of a cough. “Uh, uh, no, no I don’t?” He had no idea why it came out as more of a question.

 Atem wore a vaguely shocked expression with a smooth confidence. “No? Hm, would you like one?”

 Yugi’s eyes scrunched in confusion. Was…was that a line? Or was it a genuine question? It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

 “Um, I’m sorry what?”

 Atem smirked. “I drew you for Secret Santa.”

 Yugi’s eyes widened. “Wait, YOU did?”

 “Yes, and I couldn’t think of the perfect gift until I realized I wanted the same thing,” Atem said, a softness mixing in with the confident tone.

 “You…you what?” Yugi said, his voice growing soft and his body begging to relax.

 “I’ve seen the way you look at me and, well, I assumed…” Atem’s voice trailed off and he reached out and touched Yugi’s cheek gently. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think you’ve been interested for a while. To be honest, I’ve been just as interested since the moment I met you.”

Yugi felt his muscles overcorrect and go completely limp from Atem’s touch and words.

“So, what you’re saying is…You are my Secret Santa gift?” Yugi asked, a smile growing on his face.

Atem nodded. “If that’s what you want. I would be more than happy to be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

Yugi leaned into Atem’s touch and nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I’d love you- I mean that! I’d love that!”

Atem chuckled and removed his hand to kiss the same cheek. “You’re adorable.”

Yugi smiled. “I didn’t think you would notice me.”

Atem took his hand in his gently. “How could I not notice those gorgeous eyes always looking at me?” 

Yugi blushed. Was this really happening?

Atem took a step to the side and tugged gently at Yugi’s arm. “So, um, do you want to get some of that chicken and go talk?”

Yugi met his gaze and smirked. “Well, I was thinking that we could talk in my office and have a little, um, good old festive stuffing?” 

Atem’s eyes widened before his smirk returned. “You sure know how to get a person in the spirit, don’t you?”

Yugi lifted their joined hands and kissed Atem’s. “So you’re hungry?”

 “Starving!”

 Yugi pulled Atem towards the elevators and smiled. Best. Party. Ever.

Thanks as always to @queenbastetsstuff for the prompt! 

[cafecitowriter]

Just One Thing (Chapter 7/8)

Chapter Title: What more can I do?

Chapter Summary: Despite all the triumphs of the day, Peggy faces her biggest challenge yet: going home to Brooklyn for Christmas dinner.

Fic Summary: 16 year old Peggy Carter hates change. Change has only ever caused her trouble and made life harder. Which is why when one day, her best friend Steve confesses something that has the potential to change their dynamic forever, she makes a wish that she hopes will help her solve everything.

Because adults have everything figured out... Right?

A holiday version of 13 Going on 30 (more like 16 going on 36) Steggy Secret Santa ( @steggyfanevents​ ) present for @thesokovianaccords​. Inspired by the movie and this iconic AU gifset by @beautifulwhensarcastic

Read Chapter 7 here

Read from the beginning on AO3

Chapter Preview:

If Peggy learned anything from brunch, it was two things. The first was that Maria was as dangerous as Peggy had guessed from her conversations with her earlier that morning. She was witty, had a sharp tongue, and wasn’t afraid to be blunt and honest. The second was that mimosas were fucking delicious, which made them just as dangerous as Maria Hill. Peggy wasn’t drunk by any means, but she was definitely happy, as her aunt Lizzy would put it.

As Nat polished off the last of the bacon on her plate, Peggy sipped at her mimosa, content to listen to Maria talk about her plans for the rest of the day.

“For the first time since I was like 10, they’re actual Christmas plans that I’m looking forward to,” Maria grinned. “I get to have dinner with my girlfriend tonight and celebrate the fact that this year neither of us could visit our families for the holidays because of work, nor are our families visiting here, so it will be just us. It’ll be the most peaceful Christmas of my life and I will enjoy every moment of it.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Peggy blurted before she could stop herself.

When she was in high school, no one would be caught dead admitting they were gay, especially after Monty got outed by Hodge and had spent most of freshman year in various garbage cans and with new graffiti on his locker every week. The only person Peggy had even told that she might like both boys and girls was Steve. But hearing Maria talk about it so openly and proudly was super cool. And surprisingly validating.

“Which means you’re not allowed to seduce her, Peggy,” Nat warned her teasingly.

Peggy blushed and snorted, hiding her embarrassed smile behind her glass.

“So what are these plans you have tonight?” Nat asked Peggy pointedly.

Peggy really wanted to tell Nat everything. That Steve had kissed her and they were together now and he had invited her for Christmas dinner, but it was something that she wasn’t exactly ready to share with Maria. She liked Maria a lot, but considering the history between Peggy, Steve, and Natasha, and the latter's relationship with Bucky, telling Nat about Steve was a big deal — an even bigger deal than gushing about it to Jemma. So Peggy wanted to save it for when it was just the two of them.

“Just dinner,” Peggy shrugged, taking another sip of her mimosa.

“Anyone special?” Maria asked with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

“You could say that,” she answered evasively.

[ticklygiggles]

Hello, may i request "These are the best Christmas cookies you will ever have" with Simeon and Lucifer (platonic)? Please and thank you!

Hello hello! It's Christmas in July! I hope you enjoy this!

"Ah! Welcome, Lucifer!" Simeon said excitedly, moving to the side to let Lucifer in. "I'm glad you could come!"

Lucifer chuckled, hanging his coat in the coat rack near the door. "You thought I wouldn't come?"

It wasn't in his plans not to come. As soon as he received Simeon's message, inviting him to drink tea with him at Purgatory Hall, he halted out of his chair in his office and basically, made a run to it, wanting to escape- ahem, take a break from all of that paperwork piling up on his desk. One more bill belonging to Mammon, and Lucifer would turn into a paper himself.

Simeon shrugged at Lucifer's words and smiled gently at him, guiding him to the living room. "I was worried you were too busy, I don't wish to cause you trouble," he said softly. "Please, take a seat."

"No one causes trouble as much as my brothers, so don't worry about it," Lucifer promised as he did what he was told.

He saw Simeon graciously pouring the tea into their cups before something else caught his eye: right beside his cup, there was a white plate where three cookies were carefully placed in, a Christmas tree, a snowman and… was that Santa?

"Where did you get these?" Lucifer asked curiously, holding the snowman up to inspect it properly.

"Ah! These are the best Christmas cookies you will ever have!" Simeon said excitedly, grabbing one for himself from another plate near his own cup. He took a bite and hummed happily, Lucifer couldn't help but think he looked like a child. "Try them, please!"

"I didn't know you'd be so interested in… these human things," he said before taking a bite. The sweetness exploded in his mouth, it was, in fact, really good, especially right after he took a sip of the tea.

Simeon chuckled. "Luke seems excited to work on Christmas pastries," he explained, looking tenderly at the cookies. "He said he wants to surprise a certain human with them," his eyes looked up at Lucifer and Lucifer could see the mischief in them. "Are they doing anything Christmas related over at the House of Lamentation?"

Lucifer shrugged, sipping on his tea again. "I've been busy lately. I'm not sure what they're up to."

Simeon chuckled behind his teacup. "Wouldn't they be also excited to do some Christmas things with you… all?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at that pause, but his heart jumped in his chest at the thought of him sharing some time with that human, doing things that are common in the Human World. Didn't sound like a bad idea, he could even get Christmas presents for his brothers with the human's help and-

"You're so easy to read," Simeon said with a soft giggle.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lucifer asked sharply, feeling a bit exposed to Simeon.

"It means that Diavolo is not the only one that can read you so well," he explained, smiling at Lucifer with that gentle, yet teasy smile of his. "I still have that charm, even after all this time."

Lucifer huffed humorlessly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Simeon's words. He couldn't come back with a quick answer, after all, Simeon and him were pretty close up in the Celestial Realm, so he was not completely wrong; Lucifer knew that he could still read him as well as before.

"Yeah, sure, you can think whatever you want," he said, suddenly wanting to tease Simeon back. "But we don't see each other so often anymore…"

"Haha! As stubborn as always," Simeon laughed charmingly. "I think I still can read you very well. It's true that we don't see each other as often, but I do remember everything about you."

The tone of his voice and the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, (looking anything but angelic), had Lucifer tensing up a little.

"What do you mean?"

Simeon shrugged, sipping on his tea and inviting Lucifer to do the same.

"You know, your secrets and weaknesses."

Lucifer let out a condescending laugh, hiding his mouth behind his gloved hand. "My secrets and weaknesses? Well, I'd like to know them too!"

Simeon snorted softly. "Be careful what you wish for, Luci. It can come true."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me right now?"

"I'm just saying."

Lucifer huffed, turning his head to the side, eyes closed in an offended expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what you are talking about, Simeon," he said, puffing out his chest with pride. Lucifer had no weaknesses. "I think you're just talking big and I- !!"

Lucifer flinched, cursing himself mentally for such a reaction when he felt Simeon's finger poking his lower stomach, right below his navel. He tensed up and his hand immediately caught Simeon's wrists, only noting that he had already moved all the way to Lucifer from right across the little coffee table. That sneaky angel.

"So it's still working, huh?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, not daring to let go of Simeon's wrist. "Don't try anything funny, Simeon," he warned, showing his fangs a little. "As much as you know this weakness that you say, I do know yours as well."

"Heeeh? So you're admitting you have a weakness?" Lucifer tightened his grip on Simeon's wrist. "Now now, I admit that I feel flattered, though, to know that my former brother still remembers things about me!"

Lucifer wondered how someone as calm and sweet like Simeon could also be as sneaky and teasy like this. This was, of course, not new to Lucifer, they enjoyed to tease each other a lot back in time, but it wasn't less surprising. Nobody would believe him if he ever said that Simeon could act this… devilish.

"I can't with you, Simeon. Didn't you invite me for a cup of te-eeehehehe!" Lucifer gasped, feeling his ears heating up as a blush crept to them.

Since when did Simeon have two hands?! He was simply stupid for thinking that Simeon would stop just because he told him to! Now Lucifer couldn't stop the giggles breaking through his lips as Simeon's hand latched to that horrendous sensitive spot above his hip.

"Oh my goodness, was that a giggle, Lucifer?"

Lucifer shook his head, biting his lower lip to stop those embarrassing sounds as his free hand tried to catch Simeon's hand squeezing that spot over and over.

"No? I think it did sound like one! I didn't know you could still make those sounds!"

Lucifer felt the blush on his ears crept to his cheeks. He hated to know that he still could make those awful sounds. And he hated that Simeon still remembered so well where he was ticklish! And he especially hated that Simeon's tickles were one of his weaknesses!

"Gotcha!" Simeon said, freeing his wrists from Lucifer's grip and latching his hand above his other hip, squeezing both sides almost frenetically.

Lucifer squeaked and he threw his head back with a loud cackle. His knees went up, trying to protect his hips, but Simeon easily avoided them and kept tickling Lucifer there, wrestling him until Lucifer had his back pressed against the couch, failing his arms and squirming around, trying to escape Simeon's fingers.

"S-Simeon! S-Stahahahahap th-this instahahahant!" He giggled brightly, wiggling his hips from side to side as Simeon kept focusing on that spot. "I'll kihihihihill you!"

"Will you, now? You seem too busy laughing your head off to do so, Luci," Simeon teased, giggling when Lucifer squeaked as Simeon's fingers pinched the edge of his hips. "I can't believe you are still so sensitive!"

Lucifer shook his head, not believing it either. It had been a hot minute since the last time he was tickled, so he was extremely surprised to find out that he was still so sensitive!

"Nahahahat thehehehere!" He nearly shrieked when he felt Simeon's hands moving to his lower stomach, but before he could reach that spot, Lucifer grabbed Simeon's arm and pulled at it, dragging him down until Simeon was the one with his back pressed on the couch and Lucifer was straddling him.

"Oh? Such a swift move, Lucifer!" Simeon praised him and Lucifer look at him with feral eyes, making Simeon's lips tremble with a nervous smile.

"You… looked for this, Simeon," Lucifer said, quickly pinning one of Simeon's hands under his knee as he lifted the other one over the archangel's head.

Simeon struggled, shaking his head and giggling already. "W-Wahahahahait! I apologize! I apologize!" He begged, but Lucifer only smirked down at him before his free hand made contact with Simeon's unprotected underarm.

"No! Wait! I- AHAHAHAHA!"

Lucifer chuckled. "Was that a cackle?" Lucifer asked in a light, but dangerous voice and Simeon could only nod as he threw his head back, pulling at his trapped arms. "So this is still your worst spot, huh?"

"It ihihihihis! P-Plehehehehase, Luci! I'm s-soAHAHAHAHA!"

The poor angel was positively howling with laughter. His head was thrown back in hysterics as Lucifer expertly tickled his armpit: scribbling his fingers in, rubbing deep and quick circles with his thumb, vibrating his fingers in, pinching at the smooth skin - just every technique he could remember from the past that successfully drove Simeon crazy with laughter.

Lucifer chuckled at seeing his former brother squirming and bucking under him, desperately trying to make Lucifer stop, and a sudden wave of melancholy rushed through him. He saw himself back in the Celestial Realm with Simeon's laughter ringing in his ears as he wrecked him mercilessly. Simeon always provoked Lucifer until they were tickling each other, but Simeon always, always, lost against Lucifer.

No matter how hard he tried, Lucifer always managed to turn the tables on Simeon, wrecking him until he was a shrieking, hysterical mess or when Michael told him to give poor Simeon a break.

Seeing that Simeon was already tearing up and his cheeks were extremely flushed and his laughter was a bit wheezy, he knew this was not going to be any different from those times.

"Do you give up?" He asked with a playful smirk doing that digging right in the middle of Simeon's armpit that always drove him up the wall.

"N-neheheveaaHAHAHA!" He shrieked when Lucifer vibrated his fingers against his skin. "Okay! Okahahahay! I d-do gihihihive up! S-Stahahahahap!"

Lucifer chuckled, feeling a little extra mean as he kept tickling Simeon until his laughter turned silent and his body gave up on trying to escape the tickling.

He stopped slowly until he was brushing Simeon's hypersensitive skin and he jumped and squeaked softly, however, Lucifer still held him in place, trying to make sure Simeon wouldn't have the great idea of attacking him back.

"Lehehet go ahalready!" Simeon said with a giggle, feeling his armpit tingling as it was still exposed.

Lucifer chuckled again, but before he let go of Simeon, he couldn't help but look over at Simeon's exposed hips.

"Honestly, how is it that Father lets you wear these clothes?" He asked, poking at Simeon's hips repeatedly, making him giggle brightly.

"Becahahause I'm gohohorgeous! I sahahaid I gihihive up!" Lucifer actually laughed at that as he let go of Simeon, taking a seat on the couch as if nothing had happened.

Simeon, on the other hand, quickly wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to catch his breath before he also sat up, right beside Lucifer, arms brushing against each other.

A comfortable silence fell upon them. Simeon had to reach out for his tea before sitting back beside Lucifer. The liquid was just slightly cold, but they still blew at it, acting as if they weren't laughing their heads off just a few minutes ago.

"So, did you like the cookies, Lucifer?" Simeon asked, noticing with pride and pleasure that Lucifer's plate was empty.

Lucifer huffed out a laugh, "certainly, these cookies are very tasty. You might as well pack some for me to bring back to the House of Lamentation."

Simeon seemed to beam at that and Lucifer couldn't help but smile an honest smile to him. "I might invite you over if we do something for Christmas."

Simeon giggled, "I'll be waiting excitedly."

Lucifer thought for only a second that he had been possessed by what they called, the Christmas Spirit because he thought, (for only a second too) that he'd like to spend another evening like this with Simeon…

Even if it ended with them having another tickle fight because, in the end, he knew he would be the winner.

[elliestormfound]

Witcher Secret Santa

Dear @linx1457

this is your secret Santa! I wish you merry christmas and hope you enjoy your gift!

@thewitchersecretsanta

Geralt/Jaskier modern au, roommates, mutual pining, 1854 words

CW: none, just fluff and pinging with a happy end

read on ao3

--------- “I told you not to go in my room and I told you not to touch my stuff,” Geralt said, looking at his new roommate.

Geralt worked as a tour guide for the local national park. During the colder months less tourists visited and his wage hardly covered his rent. His brother Lambert had suggested he take on a roommate and posted an ad for him in the local newspaper. 

But most of the people that had answered the ad had been weird or downright creepy and he had lost all hope till a musician called. Jaskier - that was his name - was new in town and wanted to gain a foothold in the big city. He needed to stay somewhere cheap for a couple of months till he could afford his own apartment. 

Geralt had invited him over and even though he had not been sure if someone so outgoing would clash with his more reserved nature, he had somehow been convinced that it would work out.

But now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Who even has real steel swords?” Jaskier asked, “I thought they were cheap imitations from the ren faire…” They were standing in Geralt’s room where his two heavy swords had crashed down from where they were supposed to hang on the wall.

“They are from an actual blacksmith,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, and more quietly, “from the ren faire.”

Jaskier laughed, “so I was right!”

“That is not the point!” Geralt growled and bent down to pick them up.

---------

It had been the 18th ad he had called for a room and when the man with the gravelly voice answered, Jaskier had been instantly smitten. And when the man with the deep voice turned out to be illegally handsome and accepted him as a roommate the musician was in heaven.

And at the same time he knew that it was a bad idea to pine after someone you lived with. He had experience with that. Bad experience.

So he tried his best to keep his yearning under control. But on some days it was particularly hard. Like today with the swords. 

Jaskier knew he shouldn’t go into Geralt’s room, but he had lost the charger of his phone. So he snuck in when Geralt was at work. His eyes had been caught by the reflection on the blades of the swords on Geralt’s wall. 

When he had first saw them after he moved in he had been a bit concerned - who the fuck had swords??? But Geralt had told him that he used to work as a stunt choreographer for sword fighting.

Jaskier had walked over and brushed along the blade with his index finger. And the fucking swords had fallen to the ground with a loud crash. In the exact moment Geralt had returned from work.

After Geralt chided him, Jaskier grabbed one of the swords to occupy his shaking hands and the adonis that was his roommate had the audacity to stand very close behind him and take his hand in the most tender way and fucking breathe on his neck. 

He knew that he couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the bastard and pushing him on the bed if he had stayed a moment longer, so he made some shady excuse and practically ran into his room to play some music to calm down. 

----------

Over the last few weeks Geralt got used to living with Jaskier. He would never admit it out loud but it was actually very nice that someone was there when he came home from work. He especially loved the days when Jaskier cooked. Opening the door to their apartment and being greeted by the delicious smell of lasagna was something he could get used to.

“I’m home,” he called down the hallway and suppressed a smile when Jaskier answered, “then get in the kitchen, darling, dinner is almost ready.”

After he had put away his jacket and boots he walked over and stopped in the doorframe to take in the kitchen. Jaskier was a great cook - his food always tasted fucking amazing. But the utter chaos he left in his wake was honestly impressive. Dirty pots and pans were stacked in the sink, little red spots of (hopefully) tomato sauce decorated the tiles behind the stove and at least five different packages of spices stood open on the counter. 

Geralt sighed quietly but knew that the lasagna would be worth the clean up later.

---------

Jaskier’s mother had told him that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So he occasionally cooked for Geralt. 

Of course he didn’t cook FOR Geralt. He cooked for himself and made too much so Geralt could eat with him. At least that is what he told his roommate. Today it was lasagna. 

He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock and Geralt calling out that he was home. He yelled, “then get in the kitchen, darling.” It had been funny to watch Geralt’s reactions to his frequent use of pet names. Jaskier had reassured him that he did that with every one of his friends, but to be honest, at least to himself - darling was reserved only for Geralt. 

“How was your day?” he asked, as his roommate stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Jaskier had just put the parmesan on the lasagna and made sure to angle his ass in the perfect line of sight for Geralt as he bent forward to put the lasagna in the oven. 

He smirked as he stood back up and turned around to find Geralt blushing. He cleared his throat before he said, “good, not many tourists in the park today. I gave a tour to a family and cleaned some garbage that campers had left behind.”

Jaskier smiled and said, “and then you come home to this?” He turned around and looked at the mess he had created.

“At least I get dinner here,” Geralt replied and walked over to the cupboard to get out plates. He set the table and sat down to watch Jaskier pour two glasses of red wine. 

Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from the cooking and his brown hair was tousled. On the apron he was wearing ‘KISS THE COOK’ stood in bold letters. Geralt had to shake his head because his roommate looked very kissable right now. 

---------

“Fuck,” Geralt said as he hit the TV. There was only a static noise and a corresponding image that was not unlike the view of the snowstorm outside. No matter to which channel he switched, the results were the same. 

“What are you ranting about, darling?” Jaskier asked as he walked into their living room. He was wearing one of Geralt’s hoodies and his own ridiculous pyjama bottoms. At least he had told Geralt they were pyjama bottoms, but they actually were illegally tight fitting booty shorts that had “flower twink” written on the ass.

“There will be no movie night today,” Geralt said, hitting the offending electrical device for one more time, “the fucking snowstorm has cut off the tv.”

Jaskier moaned sadly and pouted expertly. It was not only pursed lips. It was a full body pout with furrowed brows, round puppy eyes first looking down and then slowly up through his lashes, shoulders hunched forward, arms hanging limply down by his sides and one foot drawing circles with his toes in the soft carpet. 

Geralt believed that his roommate secretly practised this and he had to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it worked every damn time on him. But sadly this time he couldn’t do anything about it. 

But then Jaskier’s face lit up with a smile and he said, “Geralt, I have an idea -” Geralt groaned quietly because Jaskier’s ‘ideas’ rarely ended well, but his roommate ignored his nonverbal protests, “- do you remember when I went to the flea market the other day? I bought an old VHS recorder and a video cassette.”

“Why the fuck did you buy that?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Be thankful, Geralt, it will save movie night!” Jaskier called as he turned on his heel in search of the old recorder.

-----

It did not save movie night. The video recorder did in fact work, which wasn’t short of a miracle for that old thing, but the video cassette Jaskier had bought with it was not a movie. 

“How could I have known that ‘fireplace romance’ is not a movie?” Jaskier said, eyeing the case.

“You could have read the description,” Geralt grumbled as he looked at the tv screen that showed a fireplace with a delightfully burning fire and nothing more. For four hours. 

Jaskier sat down on the couch that was facing the tv and patted the space next to him.

“Come on, it’s better than nothing!”

Before putting the tape in the recorder they had set up everything for movie night: popcorn, hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows swimming in them and a bowl of gummy bears. 

-----------

They had sat like this for a while, talking about work and Jaskier’s next gig in a coffee shop around the corner. Somehow, without Geralt noticing him moving, Jaskier had come closer to him and was now pressed to his side. It felt good.

Jaskier took a sip of his hot chocolate and turned to his roommate.

“Geralt, what do you think about…” but he stopped as he saw Geralt smirking and looking at his lips.

“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Geralt cocked his head and said quietly in his deep voice, “you have something on your lip.”

Jaskier frowned and asked, “where?”

Geralt gestured for his own lip and Jaskier tried to imitate him, but he missed the spot of chocolate. 

“Can you help me?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to him.

Geralt’s mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed. Jaskier’s face was so close to his now that he could see all the tiny freckles that had faded during winter, but were still visible up close. He blinked and finally reached over. 

Gently he placed his palm on Jaskier’s hot cheek and felt him leaning slightly into the touch. Slowly he stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lower lip to remove the chocolate that clung to it.

He could feel Jaskier breathing in deeper right before he opened his mouth just a bit and Geralt could feel his warm breath on his thumb. 

A heartbeat later Geralt threw all restraint and explanations why he shouldn’t do it overboard, and said in a hoarse whisper, “I really...i really want to kiss you right now.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened before a soft smile played over his lips.

Jaskier leaned forward to close the gap between them and kissed him. In that moment Geralt couldn’t remember why he had been convinced that kissing Jaskier was a bad idea because it was the best thing he had ever felt.

The kiss started slow and soft, almost chaste but when Geralt wanted to lean back he felt Jaskier’s hand in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss.