To Erik, Eleven may be a slightly awkward, slightly oblivious country bumpkin, but he couldn't help but be attracted to his kind heart and gentle demeanor. Babies smiled at him, kids thought he was cool and the adults thought he was nice. He was an absolute sweetheart and Erik was getting suckered into him everyday it seemed.
Plus when Eleven found things, he would always run to him first before anyone else to show him the thing that he found, looking like an excited little kid that found something cool to show his mom.
So they were in Puerto Valor and while they did have a job to do, it couldn't hurt to at least look around. There was an outdoor market nearby and before he knew it, Eleven had started to wander toward that direction. Erik sighed and followed him.
The outdoor market had lots of wonders to behold from weapons to exotic food and other treasures. Eleven couldn't help but stare at everything. Erik had gotten used to him being like this over their travels but he still found it cute when he was amazed at the little things.
One booth caught his eye and Eleven walked up to it, seeing the wares on full display. Erik caught him at the booth and went to join him to make sure he didn't wander so much that he got lost. Joining at his side just as Eleven turned around, Erik noticed that Eleven was holding something in his hands.
It was a small bracelet with multi-colored beads.
"Who is this for?" Erik asked.
"It's for you." Eleven simply responded
"For me?"
"It's supposed to help with agility, but I also thought it would look nice on you, too."
If Erik hadn't wanted to kiss him before, he was definitely feeling it now.
"Can I put it on your wrist?"
Erik didn't object and then there was now a new bracelet on his wrist. His heart was feeling things to the point of them starting to erupt.
"Does it fit okay? It looks nice on you." Eleven rambled.
"Eleven?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Eleven's face immediately went red at the sudden command but he couldn't react quickly enough before Erik full-on kissed him.
In broad daylight.
In the outdoor market.
In front of loads of people.
"Get a room!" Veronica scolded. The kiss was interrupted, breaking it, and the two of them were greeted by the rest of the party coming to them. Erik was only a little bashful but Eleven hid his face in his hands in great embarrassment.
He didn't object to the sudden kiss, however. Maybe Erik wouldn't mind some more in private...?
genuinely have been thinking about this since you sent this in and now i get to properly rub my hands together like a fly
The problem with having a lot of clothes to chose from now, Erik was coming to understand, was never knowing what to wear.
It was a frivolous worry, and he knew it, but now that he could actually set aside his tunic and sash and everything for a proper wash and not have to worry about literally being caught with his pants down, he could afford to be frivolous. He took it as a sign of success, if anything, that he now had the luxury to spend such time over his wardrobe while still half-dressed–not the biggest prize Erik had won, but no less valuable.
The opinion of his biggest prize was well needed now, however. “Hey, Nova. What’s your favorite thing that I wear?”
Nova had been getting ready all the while Erik stared down his closet, in more or less a fraction of the time. To a point, at least; the blue linen shirt and yellow duster of that ensemble had taken no time at all, but Nova had clearly been fiddling with that bandana for far longer than he should have.
(Erik had no idea where Gemma had gotten those togs from, but a part of him thought that maybe this was some comeuppance of hers, after Nova’s teasing comment about her consistent headscarf fetch quests.)
He stopped with the bandana, though, and turned to Erik with a genuine look of confusion. “Why my favorite?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it: I have too many choices now.” Erik shrugged. “You’ve got a better eye for detail than I do.”
“Do not.”
“Uh, you do, though? As far as clothes are concerned, at least.” Erik grinned. “Don’t tell me all your forging finesse was just for show.”
Nova scoffed and rolled his eyes, but it was with a matching smile to Erik’s, so clearly no harm had been done. Even if Nova did think him silly for his reasons, he did still take a moment to mull over an answer.
“…The stole.” He said at last.
Erik blinked. “The stole?”
“Yeah.” Nova affirmed. “I always thought that looked really nice on you.”
“Huh.” Not that Nova’s opinion was wrong; Erik also thought the stole looked pretty good on him, and he’d never been especially shy about his body when it wasn’t a matter of life or death (Serena was another story, but this wasn’t about her, why did she wear a belly dancer outfit in a frozen tundra–). But it did seem odd for Nova to single that one out, specifically. “Bit of a dark horse there, aren’t you?”
“Wh–no!” Nova stammered. “Come on, Erik, don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not, I’m not, I swear!” Erik just laughed, and raised hands in mock surrender before turning back to his wardrobe. “It just wasn’t what I was expecting, is all. It’s never been one you’ve said too much about.”
He continued to speak while he pulled out the stole in question, and gathered its smaller pieces out of a jewelry drawer. “You remember way back when it was just us, right? And we left after seeing Derk, and he gave me back my old coat from back in the day, and you kept saying how cool you thought it was.”
“Well–yeah, because it was cool.”
“It is! But then you got that pirate coat out of Nautica for me, and that was certainly a look you were taken with. And then that armor from… oh, where did you find it, Centralis?”
“Centralis.”
“Right. Anyway, my point is, the stole didn’t–I always thought it was more practical?” A practical outfit with a lot of flair, yes, but Erik didn’t mind that so much. Well, expect for the tie around his wrist, that thing was a nightmare to set correctly. “Never realized it made that much of an impression on you.”
After the third failed attempt to create that perfect criss-cross pattern, Erik clicked his tongue at the string, and turned back to ask Nova for help–but he didn’t make it very far before stopping in his tracks. “Nova?”
Nova wasn’t looking at him. Still seated in the vanity chair, he had his gaze focused intently on his lap, where his hands rested and wrenched that headscarf anxiously. To say nothing of the deep shade of red blooming on his face.
“…It’s, um.” Nova muttered, quietly. “It’s the one I made you.”
And it all clicked for Erik then, and a part of him couldn’t believe that hadn’t crossed his mind before. His other clothes were things he’d had before, or things found amongst treasure free for the taking; of course Nova, who always showed how much he cared for people with his own two hands, would favor that Erik wear something that he had crafted for him alone.
Even if it hadn’t been made with any initial romantic intent (and Erik greatly doubted it had been, they had a lot going on around the time they got that crafting recipe), it was an incredibly straight-forward reason for Nova to have. Naive, almost–but that was just how Nova was, and that was just how Erik loved him.
Goddess, he had a way of leaving Erik gobsmacked–without even the slightest bit of effort! His biggest prize, indeed.
Nova didn’t seem to notice when he came over, and only broke away from his hands when Erik curled a hand around his neck, pulling Nova towards him to press a kiss to his hair. Even from that, Erik could feel any remaining nervous tension bleed out of Nova, coupled with a quiet sigh of contentment, and when Erik pulled away, Nova looked up at him with those big, sweet eyes of his, soft and curious.
Erik said nothing, only smiled, and held out the tie he’d been fumbling with before. “Help me out with this thing, and I’ll set that bandana right.”
Nova didn’t respond for a moment, face blank, but that blush of his came back again, lighter and lovely, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile before taking the string.
“You can’t,” he said as he wrapped the tie, “it’ll be too perfect. Gemma will know.”
Throughout the course of his fairly young and turbulent life, Erik had stolen a great many things. He’d lifted coins out of pockets, fresh bread off of bakery stands. He’d snagged clothes from drying lines and shoes from front porches. A necklace, once, for a birthday that might have been better off going uncelebrated. A gleaming red orb, both a challenge and a form of penance.
Though his thieving days were behind him, more or less, Erik knew the tricks as well as he knew the knives at his sides. Get a mark’s attention, then divert it. The best heists went off right under a victim’s nose. Go in for the stealing as quickly as confidently as possible. Hesitation, Erik knew, was what landed you in a dungeon cell, or worse still, in a gutter.
So what was it that made him pause now, before life as he’d known it for the better part of a year, the best and worst in equal measure, ended completely? When you were on the edge of losing everything, what could possibly stand in your way?
“Rowan,” the name spilled from his mouth, a desperate prayer. “Rowan, wait.”
From where he stood poised before a golden sphere, Rowan faltered. His shoulders shook, then sank. Erik scrambled up the dais, closing the space between them until there was nothing, until he could reach out and touch and take.
His fingers fell first on Rowan’s shoulder before tracing down his arm until finally, finally, he could slide across the warmth of his palm and slip his fingers into the gaps between Rowan’s.
Rowan’s eyes flew wide, then dropped to their joined hands. Something like awe bloomed in his expression, and Erik burned in the brightness of it. They could have had hours, days, months, if only time was on their side.
Even with so much left unsaid between them, Erik could think of nothing to say.
Instead, he brought his other hand up to Rowan’s cheek. He let his thumb trace the edge of Rowan’s jaw, and drew him down until their mouths could meet.
He let the press of lips on lips say what he couldn’t. The slightest bite of teeth was an accusation, a curse for leaving. The swipe of tongue was an apology and acceptance both. The hitch of Rowan’s chest under his hands was everything he’d ever wanted, a lifeline snatched just a little too late.
When Erik drew back, just enough to breathe, Rowan’s eyes were blown wide. “Erik,” he said, his voice ragged. “I-”
Erik felt Rowan’s heart pounding beneath his hand, and thought it the most important thing he’d ever held. “This isn’t goodbye,” Erik said for him, breathless and broken. “Not by a long shot.”
I hope this isn't too vague but blupjeans college au where they're lab partners, Lup accidentally lights Barry's jeans on fire, and he falls in love instantly
send me fic prompts pls
“Ms. Taaco, you’re late.”
Barry glanced up from making corrections on his report. Lup Taaco, slick with sweat and out of breath, had barely graced the threshold to Professor Davenport’s classroom when his reprimanding tone stopped her in her tracks.
“I have a really good excuse this time -” she heaved, but Professor Davenport shook his head.
“Let me guess, volunteering at the mongoose enclosure at the zoo? Rescuing orphans from a burning building? Something to do with your menace of a brother?”
“Would you believe Taako and I were rescuing mongoose from a burning enclosure?” she suggested. The class snickered and Barry hid a laugh behind his hand. “I guess they weren’t orphans at the time, but they certainly are now.”
Professor Davenport shook his head again. “Ms. Taaco, if you are interested in a creative writing major, I suggest speaking to your student advisor. In the meantime, we expect a certain level of decorum in the chemistry department, and one more of these absences will result in an automatic failure.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
“And please stop calling me captain.”
Lup saluted silently and proceeded to the empty chair next to Barry, which she swung into with reckless concern for the beakers and bunsen burners set up on their table. Barry quickly blocked the wrecking ball of her backpack with his hand, narrowly saving the delicate instruments.
“Ah, whoops,” Lup grimaced. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
“Right,” Barry nodded far too many times. “Where were you, really? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Just sleeping in.” Lup leaned in close to Barry and flashed a devilish grin. “I snuck in to Taako’s cast party last night and things got a little crazy. Those theatre majors man, I’m telling ya. They really know how to throw a shindig.”
Barry wasn’t quite paying attention, because he was too distracted by the closeness of Lup’s freckles, the closeness of her mouth, the smell of her sweat and deodorant. She curled her braid into a bun at the nape of her neck and Barry’s eyes got caught in the movement of her fingertips. He shook it off - there was no time for this in class.
“Students,” Professor Davenport announced, “if you’ll turn to page fifty eight in your textbooks and consult the instructions -”
“How come I never see you at any parties?” Lup asked, not looking up from her textbook.
“Huh? Oh, I’m uh, not much of a party guy,” Barry shrugged.
“Shame. What kind of guy are you, then?” Lup flicked on the bunsen burner and Barry jumped at the flash of blue.
“Oh, I don’t know. Small group stuff. One on one stuff. Movies, or picnics, or coffee dates or -” Barry stopped suddenly, pink flushing his cheeks. “I’m just not really a club or concert or party guy.”
“I get it, completely.” Lup nodded as she picked up a slip of paper with a pair of tongs. “Would you ever want to go on one of those one-on-one coffee dates with, say, me?”
“Pardon?” Barry spoke so loudly that Lup jumped, dropping the pair of tongs holding the now-lit slip of paper onto Barry’s jeans. Barry knocked his stool over as he jumped back, furiously slapping the paper off his leg and stomping its smoldering ruins into the floor. Thankfully, the only damage was a black spot on Barry’s jeans, but he and Lup had garnered the full attention of the class.
“Mr. Bluejeans, what have I told you about following proper safety procedures?”
“I, uh, I -”
“It was me, Professor,” Lup said suddenly. “I wasn’t paying attention and I dropped the tongs.”
Professor Davenport shook his head again. “Ms. Taaco, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave my classroom for the day. I can’t abide by any more of these interruptions.”
“Will do,” Lup saluted the professor as she swung her backpack over her shoulder again. In full view of the class and professor, she flashed another smile at Barry. “Was that a ‘yes,’ then, Barold?”
Barry felt fully red, all eyes on him. It was all he could do to nod, not even sure what he was agreeing to. “Good!” Lup chirped. “It’s the least you could do, seeing as I got kicked out of class for asking.”
“I -”
“I’m kidding, Bluejeans,” Lup laughed. “This was going to be my last day, anyway.”
Before Barry could ask what she meant, Professor Davenport pointed towards the door. “Ms. Taaco, I’ve asked you to leave.”
“Gotta split, Bluejeans. See you never, professor!” She nearly knocked over several instruments with her backpack as she strode towards the hallway, but paused in the door to look back at Barry. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, around ten?”
Barry gave Lup a thumbs up, and just as quickly as she arrived, she was gone.
*shows up with hot toddy and a blankie* i don't know what that post was referring to but stay strong! Also get better soon ♡
Thank youuuuu!
it was for a tv show fandom that I used to be in a-ways back but which got so toxic that I left. I’ve deleted almost all my content for it (I guess I really should take the time to delete the rest), but well, you can probably guess the one. i don’t name it on my blog lest I show up in searches and they find me again.
anyway, from what i see on my dash rn there’s some genuinely cool shit happening in the show, things I would have loved to see occur years ago, and AUGH it’s trying to draw me back and i’m feeling just weak and sick enough right now to fire up the streaming apps and give it a go.
nedryn-laughs replied to your post “hey guys, so should i use hey man, sharp work samurai, leave the math...”
Leave the math to Pidge is my vote.
yea i like that one alot!!! i think that one, hey man, and we are a good team are my top picks atm, bc they’re just vauge enough while still being important klance moments ;’)
14.) “Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Erik repeatedly kept smacking his forehead into the wooden table of the inn room. He could NOT believe that he just word-vomited a confession of a crush to the Luminary, a.k.a, the one person he had a massive crush on.
He almost wanted to cry. What would he think of him now? Would he be secretly grossed out by it? Would the feelings never be reciprocated? Would he never even look at Erik the same way again????
He wrapped his arms around his head, shielding his face as he became distressed. More questions and worrying thoughts swirled in his brain like fish in a pond. Being a fish must be nice, not having to think about much and it would provide a nice escape...
“Erik? Are you alright?”
Erik felt his hand gently laying on his back, trying to be somewhat comforting but Erik found no comfort in the gesture. Eleven pulling the chair up to him didn’t bother him either. They didn’t say anything for a few moments. Erik finally looked up a little so that Eleven saw his reddish eyes and puffy cheeks.
“Oh goodness Erik, please tell me what’s wrong, you look like you’re going to cry.”
“El?”
“Yes?”
Erik sniffled before continuing.
“Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.”
There it was, the one reason why Erik couldn’t look at him properly all day. It hurt Eleven’s heart more than he could say.
“What do you need right now? Would some water help?” Eleven asked, wanting to be helpful.
Erik just nodded so Eleven gave him a reassuring look before getting up and walking to the nearby pitcher by the window and pouring a glass of water. He walked back to the table with it and slid the glass to Erik, who took it with both hands and drank it slowly. He set the glass back on the table and went back to laying on his arms again but found El looking back at him with a rather soothing look on his face, like the kind one would find in a painting.
“Now, can you tell me what’s the matter? Was it what you said about having a thing for me?”
Erik nodded after a minute, anxious as to how Eleven would respond.
“You know that doesn’t bother me at all, right? I thought it was really cute.”
Erik perked up at the word “cute”; was he really like that to him?
Erik felt a hand slide into his own and he looked up to find Eleven holding his hand from across the table with a soft smile.
HELLO i meant to write these prompts all on saturday but then i played okami for 48 hours straight. i’m not a clever bear
also this should go without saying but. if i see anybody tagging this as ship i’m going to milk your spinal fluid
~
In the cover of night and rain, Jade drags herself out of the river, cradling a star against her.
The lights of Heliodor’s soldiers are far from them now. If she knows Hendrik as well as she thinks she does--and she does--she knows he at least will come for them eventually. But it’s dark and cold and the storm rages on, and Hendrik isn’t such a fool that he’ll risk his men climbing down a ravine. The search, for the moment, will come to an end.
Jade can’t allow herself to rest, though. Rab, she knows, will be fine. He’s more than enough to take care of the group they’d called out. They’re all safe in his hands. But there’s something more important in her hands now, something that she can’t say was ever best left in her care--but just as before, she’ll try and keep that light safe.
She’s done this before. They both have. Nova sleeps in much the same way he did as a baby, oblivious to the world despite the danger. He’s so much bigger now, and he looks so much like Lady Eleanor it breaks Jade’s heart that he’ll never get to know how true that is. But he’s still a little miracle through and through, from how he burns like the summer sun in Jade’s arms, how his wet hair slips through her fingers as she brushes it out of his face, and how he breathes slow and calm against her skin.
Moonlight filters through the cloudy sky, and shines on Nova’s face. All of a sudden, it’s sixteen years in the past, and Jade is ten years old again with a basket in her arms, running, running, running as fast as she can. Her brother needed her, then, more than anything. And her brother needs her right now.
Jade knows that he’s only her brother in her own mind. That’s how it always had been, how she always had been: a lonely little princess whose friends lived and traveled near and far from her, who never seemed to stay long, a girl that yearned for stability and the want to be wanted by someone other than her father. She loves her father, of course she does, and she loves Hendrik and Jasper--and she loves Nova just the same.
So dearly she loves him that even if he rejects her--rejects his grandfather, rejects Lady Eleanor and Lord Irwin and all of Dundrasil and how could he not do just that what right do they have to him now--it won’t matter in the slightest. Because Nova is alive, and the relief of that fact alone is enough.
She has to find a safe place for him, warm and dry. There’s an abandoned old cabin not far from the town, she remembers, far enough away that Hendrik won’t think to follow the river there. It will be difficult carrying Nova there on her own (he’s so much taller than her now, the audacity), but Jade has carried him before, and she is no longer a child. She can do this now. She will not fail now.
Jade pulls Nova to his feet, and slings his arm across her shoulders; his head slumps against her shoulders, and he doesn’t so much as stir, and despite the terror and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she can’t help but smile a bit. Just like the baby in her memories.
Jade presses her lips to his forehead. More for her own solace than anything, but it was something she saw Lady Eleanor do countless times when he was a newborn. If he dreams restlessly now, perhaps the vague memory of a mother will calm him.
Nova can’t hear her, of course he can’t, but she whispers into his hair a promise, a solemn vow, a sisterly oath whether he ever thinks her a sister or not: “I’ll never let you go again.”
