#actual fanfiction that I have written

[occasionallydiverting]

I would name a chapter after a Schubert string quartet

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

���-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[helaelaemond]

Dragons Abroad - Aemond x lover!reader

Rating: Universal

Category: Angst

Pairing: Aemond x you

Set prior to Rook's Rest

Words: 1k

"There are dragons abroad."

You look at him. Across the table you sit from him and watch him. Around you, he is bare. No shirt, no breeches, no eye patch. Falsehoods gone, inhibitions left at the door. Yet his gaze avoids yours now. "So there are."

His voice is a quiet mumble. "I must go to meet them."

"I think that is not true," you reply. You look down at your hands and try not to pick at the skin around your fingers. Scabs make it sore already.

"I wish to meet them."

"That is true," comes your soft reply.

"And our time together is ended."

"Another falsehood." The words are confident, despite the ice in your chest. Frosted steel has pierced you between your ribs and into your very heart.

Aemond glances up. His fingers drum lightly on the wooden table. So many meals you shared with him here in the sanctity of his rooms. "I cannot take you with me."

"I never asked you to. I only ask that you come home to me."

"That, I cannot promise."

"Then promise what you can."

He opens his mouth to reply, but words fail him. He retreats into his comfortable silence. Prince Aemond leans into you when you stand and cradle him into you. He wraps his arm around your back and presses his face into your stomach as he sits in his chair and you stand at his side. The touch against his hair is welcomed, and he leans into your hand when you run it down his scarred cheek.

"I can promise nothing," he murmurs after a long time.

'You can promise to come home to me."

"I might not return. If I do, I do not know what will be left."

"I'll take whatever there is."

Aemond sighs your name and you go to pull away, but his strong arm around you does not loosen. And so you allow yourself to stroke his hair again. Part of him melts against you. The blade in your heart does not warm.

"I will destroy my enemies out there. I will paint the skies with fire and blood and-"

"That is all very noble," you interrupt softly. "But it will not make you whole."

You look down at him and see his face twitch. "I'm not a knight from one of your stories. I will not be the gallant hero you so desire."

It happens without you thinking, really. You sink to your knees in front of him. It would be folly to think it would make him smile this time, like it so often does. A place of worship before him. Now a place to beg. "I don't want a knight on his horse to come and save me. I just want you. As you are. Please."

"Do not beg."

"Please, Aemond, please don't make this the end, pl-"

"This is not becoming of a-"

"Please. Please, please." Your voice is steady but you can feel your throat beginning to close. "I am good for you."

And the fierce, stoic, hard Prince Aemond looks at you on your knees, utterly soft and warm, and his brow creases. "You are," he replies, oh so gently.

"I make you feel good."

He nods, head tilted to the side. "You do."

"I make you happy."

And he nods again. "I will not destroy you. I must leave you."

You lean up and try to kiss him, but he turns so you catch his cheek. It is only then that you realise your hands and his are grasped tightly. They have come out in a cold sweat. Strange, you think. He is never clammy.

You press your forehead to his temple. Some of your tears fall onto his pale cheek. "If you leave me, I will be destroyed. I can weather any storm but this."

You feel his jaw clench. A thousand words fall silent on his lips.

"Please."

Suddenly, his hands wrench from yours and then you feel them, strong and damp, on either side of your head. Your eyes open as he pulls you closer, closer, and you think yes! Yes, he understands! He will leave but come back to me! Yes-!

But your lips are not granted a kiss. Instead, a long kiss is pressed to your forehead. It is tight and hard and full of agony. It is farewell.

After it is ended, he has little left to say.

"I will wait for you, you know."

He watches while you move back to the other side of the table, while you smile sadly at him.

"If you want me to."

"I do not."

But his denial is not one that makes you sad. For anyone else, he might be cruel. But for you, he cannot bring himself to do that. There is only honesty between you, both kind and cutting.

"Do you wish to be with me?" you ask one final time.

Aemond cannot lie to you. Not after all the beauty you have shared, not after all the ways you have grown to know one another. Not after all the true and deep love between you. "I do," he says slowly. "More than almost anything."

"What do you wish for more than that?"

He sighs quietly. "To keep you safe."

"To force me to be free will not keep me safe from anything."

"It will" he insists gently. "You shall be safe from me."

Despite the agony in you, you can still force a smile. For him, always for him. "That is not safety. That is a fate worse than death."

"Worse than what I could be?"

"Worse than you could ever become. The worst you could be, Aemond, is gone."

[phvnthom]

Reading back all your ao3 comments is literally the highest form of self-care

[wiseatom]

and if i said i had something non-acswy related dropping with the vague timeline of “soon,” then what.

[robotsafari]

i had a dream where something was off with riku’s shadow…

(this art is so sucks i made this when i was tired and less experienced which ended up making riku look so much skinnier than how i normally draw him post-kh2 can you stop engaging it with pretty pweeease)

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[ashartstuff]

Why aren’t there more old man creek stories on ao3 ???? I need more I need more I NEED MORE GIVE ME MORE I NEED MORE I NEED MORE I NEED MORE I NEED-

[therentyoupay]

im completely feral over all your jelsa stories!!!!!! do you ever write established relationship jelsa or have any headcanons about what they would be like together in a serious relationship or marriage????

THANK YOU SO MUCH. 😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕🙏 thank you thank you nonny for this super sweet ask and this really lovely question and all of your love and support!! 💕💕💕💕💕

i have... never actually written established!relationship (in any fandom), now that i'm thinking about it? that said, i guess i can come up with a quick list of some headcanons, maybe? 😂 i will have to think about this more, but for now, here's a quick drop:

elsa is an early riser; elsa helps jack create more sustainable sleeping patterns and habit formations 😂

when jack gets Impetuous Urges to Do Something Rash and Impractically Spontaneous, elsa will ground jack, reminding him to think before acting. (he occasionally Still Does It, anyway.) elsa knows what she signed up for, lol.

jack loves to play Harmless(!) Pranks, just to watch elsa’s reaction. (he is no longer allowed to sneak up on her after The Incident).

they also quibble over the definition of "harmless" and the specific logistical implications of that; for a while, jack was banned from further pranking, but then he got more creative at showing elsa that pranks could be wholesome and genuine, in which they could both be in on the joke. however, due to elsa's deeply-rooted Need to Excel and her (Not-so)Secret Competitive AF Streak, her retaliation in escalating the Cleverness Prank War quickly resulted in jack's prompt implementation of the Prank-Free Zones and Time Periods. (no, he was not scared.)

elsa, usually reserved, has learned to let her playful side show more often with jack. she might still pretend to be exasperated by his antics, but sometimes it's part of the game (or habit).

elsa sill struggles with opening up emotionally sometimes, but she progressively feels safe enough to share her innermost thoughts and fears. with time, she confides in him more about her worries. she still never likes the idea that jack sees her Imperfect Parts, but at least she can tolerate the discomfort (and, yes, take comfort in it) now

(jack loves elsa's Imperfect Parts, and jack admits that he is Weirdly Proud and Competitively Honored to be one of the only people, even including anna, who gets to see them. he also is strangely Comforted and Validated that elsa is, in fact, not perfect because for a while there, he was pretty freaked out and intimidated by how fancy she is.)

until he realized that no one ever let her actually be a Weirdo before, and once he realizes the Truth of Elsa Also Being a Secret (albeit perhaps more Subdued) Weirdo, the Universe Aligns.

jack listens to elsa's Big Conversations intently, activating varying levels of Serious Mode.

jack is getting better at recognizing the moments when elsa needs him to play and needs him to listen or Give His Opinion or any combination of those things.

jack learns that it's not always about Saying the Right Thing (which he is not very good at, anyway, or so our Serially Unreliable Narrator thinks), but rather being able to read elsa's mood and anticipate what she might need (even if she is not aware of it herself yet).

elsa is meticulous about planning and preparing for special occasions.

elsa likes traditions! jack likes tradition only because elsa likes them, lol, and hey, okay, these are more fun than he thought?? (who knew fun could be organized??!!?)

so he really wants to show (off to) her by pulling off Incredible Planning Feats in her honor, too (they do not go as smoothly, lol).

jack will often go out of his way to spontaneously create something meaningful, a moment or a gift or a gesture, that reminds elsa that he cares. he is big on words of affirmation, gift giving (but like, souvenirs that he collects on adventures like, "i saw this rock and it reminded me of your cousin olaf, we should put it on the window after we paint his face on it"), and acts of service, as well as physical touch and quality time. HE WANTS LOVE. he wants TO BE LOVED. he wants to prove that he is worthy of being loved.

(and elsa has to get him to Chill Out sometimes, remind him that he doesn't have to Do Things For Her/Anyone in order to be deserving of care; he is more than what he provides for other people.)

(jack gets its, and appreciates it, but also, the Urge to Provide and Protect is still strong, even after so much time, and sometimes Old Habits Die Hard.)

i get the sense that he'd be the type to he wake elsa up in the middle of the night to take her on a surprise adventure, or convince her to Do a Fun Thing without any preparation (/warning).

and she would Be Alarmed at the Lack of Plan (especially if/when jack Did Not Think This Through), but he also took precautions to ward off Concerns by pacifying her with tea, or reassurances that yes, he did call ahead to make sure the restaurant was open before they left the house, of course he did, he would never just leave home without double-checking beforehand (and frantically googles it two minutes later when he thinks she's not looking; she is, naturally, and even occasionally pretends not to be).

elsa approaches conflict with a desire to resolve things Calmly and Logically. she tries to understand jack’s perspective, even when she disagrees, and she’s careful with her words, not wanting to escalate the situation.

however, she can sometimes withdraw emotionally, fearing that she might say something hurtful if she’s too overwhelmed.

jack was initially (and, honestly, still is, even though he understands more now) hurt by her tendency to shut down when she Feels Too Much, and understands (although it's still hard) that elsa needs time to process her feelings and organize her thoughts.

jack also helps elsa actually Feel her Feelings, instead of just trying to intellectualize and analyze them. (she hates it, BUT sees the value. jack lives for these moments in which he realizes that he's actually contributing positively to her life and helping her in some way, rather than just being a burden or a nuisance, as was/is his fear.)

his initial reaction might be to push for a resolution quickly, but he’s also deeply afraid of Creating Distance between them, so after the first few fights, he really makes an effort to find the right balance between Pushing Hard Enough and Not Pushing Too hard, so that he doesn't drive a wedge between them as they work things out.

jack FEELS intensely, and can be so stubborn. he does not always have the most precise vocabulary or tools to describe his thoughts and feelings, or identify the root causes of what is actually going on inside him; sometimes elsa asks a lot of insightful and guiding questions that help jack come to the conclusions himself, and other times, she Puts Into Words the very thing that he had been thinking or feeling, but could not name, and it is very reassuring to have someone who understands him well enough to be able to do that.

after conflicts or arguments, they take time to Decompress and reassure one another (especially if at least one of them, if not both, was Overthinking again).

when they argue (and healthy couples do, remember!), it’s a dance of patience and understanding: elsa might need a moment to Collect Herself, and jack learns to give her that Space while also making it clear that he’s ready to talk whenever she is, and that he is going to try very hard to be Rational and Patient About It.

in the end, they both prioritize their relationship over any disagreement, always finding a way back to each other.

[nomazee]

content: suggestive, making out, stupid silly sweet

<><><><><>

on a sunny day, on a sunny planet, dan heng kisses you. 

you don’t think much about how it started, or the reasons behind it, or where you even are. march is surveying the town for something-or-other, and you had responsibilities to fulfill. but if dan heng finds that there’s no problem putting those off, then neither do you. 

if your memory serves you right (which it never does, evidently), you were both taking a break at some nice outdoor cafe. you held a cup of something warm and sweet in your hands and dan heng stared at you with syrupy eyes and twitching hands and lips that parted but never said anything. and you remember asking him dan heng, what is it? and suddenly your drink was on the table, barely touched, and both his hands reached for yours as he stood up and led you both away. 

the thumping of your heart hasn’t subsided since then. not even now, when you’re cornering dan heng against the wall of a dimly-lit alleyway and kissing the corner of his mouth with a sick intensity. 

he’d pulled you against him—not pushed, pulled, like a yearning man, like a man who had starved for twenty days and twenty nights and found his one salvation in you. it must be such a cliche, really, but you didn’t really care about how corny you were being when he was kissing you and begging you please, please, please.

ridiculous. you would’ve kissed him by noon if he hadn’t done it first. 

you could worry about semantics later. things like, are we partners? are we dating? will you kiss me in every alleyway we pass from now on? did you like the way i squeezed your arm and kissed your cheek and laughed against your jaw? those weren’t top priority anymore. 

what is priority is the way his fingers clutch at your shoulders, pressing half-bruises into your skin as he tells you thank you, ah, thank you.

you don’t think too hard about how insane this feels, to have someone so cold and sarcastic and closed off pulling at you like this. asking you so kindly, wanting you so genuinely. you don’t think about it. not at all. 

when you tell him, “maybe we should find march,” he asks, “do you want to?” and you can’t respond because you’re too embarrassed to admit that the answer is no. you’d much rather kiss the flush of red on his ear and bite his cheek and kiss his jaw and maybe trace the skin of his stomach. maybe. just a little. 

[imagineitdearies]

Battle Log for Chapter 37/38 of Perfect Slaughter!

**Warning! Spoilers for ch37 and 38 ahead!**

If you guys haven't noticed yet what a total nerd I am, this will make it abundantly clear. I showed Cazador's monster stats a couple months ago that I homebrewed/crossed from BG3 and our classic D&D vampire, but I hope you didn't think I stopped there. If you like battle logs and getting into the nitty gritty of D&D mechanics, please enjoy this breakdown below the cut!

First, if you want to reach peak nerd about it with me, take a look at all the details for our main three! (*Note: I did mix Astarion and Tyrus's BG3 stats with a vampire spawn's ability scores, considering it's canon that Astarion lost a lot of things like strength and healing ability after being tadpoled)

Monster Stats: Cazador Szarr

Tyrus Aman'del's Character Sheet

Astarion Ancunin's Character Sheet

Or otherwise, as you look over the battle log, just keep in mind a few things:

"Legendary Actions" are special actions available to powerful monsters in 5e combat, such as vampires. Besides his normal actions, Cazador can take three legendary actions between turns, but only at the end of another creature’s turn.

Cazador has "Legendary Resistance" as well, which is simple but quite powerful: when he fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead, three times per long rest.

At the top of each round, Cazador receives 10 temporary HP per ritual source.

Thanks to Magic Circle, all of Cazador's attacks are rolled with disadvantage.

In his diseased condition, Tyrus rolls with disadvantage on attacks and saving throws, and his movement speed is reduced by half.

Pre-Round

Cazador: 270 HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: 35 HP each (four) Skeletons: 27 HP each (thirteen) Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Cazador steps onto trap and speaks the words to trigger it ("Ecce Dominus!") All at once: Glyph of Warding (7th level) - 43 fire damage (succeeded saving throw, only takes 21 damage) Glyph of Warding: Magic Circle Glyph of Warding: Silence Glyph of Warding: Sunbeam - 38 radiant damage *Cazador spends his first legendary resistance to succeed saving throw, only takes 19 damage) Glyph of Warding: Phantasmal Killer (7th level) - 49 psychic damage

Round 1

Cazador: 181 HP +70 temp HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: 35 HP each Skeletons: 27 HP each Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Ritual Circle: 29 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Two unarmed strikes, 5 bludgeoning damage on second hit *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam **Fails save for Phantasmal Killer again so spends his second legendary resistance to succeed it Tyrus: Dash to Astarion *Cazador Legendary Action at the end of his turn, Bite attack for 18 total damage on ghoul Astarion: Paralyzed Ghouls collective hits: 26 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 13) Skeletons: Dash into range of battle *Cazador Legendary Action, Move without opportunity attacks Godey: 13 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6) Chatterteeth: Casts Eyebite: Frightened on Cazador

Round 2

Cazador: 183 HP +70 temp HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: three have 35 HP, one has 13 HP  Skeletons: 27 HP each Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Ritual Circle: 30 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray (succeeds saving throw; takes 15) Cazador: Calls three swarms of rats (arrive in 4 rounds) *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Help action to rescue Astarion *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 21 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw 10 piercing damage; Cazador heals 21 HP Astarion: Casts Expeditious Retreat and pulls Tyrus out of radius Ghouls collective hits: 21 slashing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 10) Skeleton collective hits: 44 piercing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 22) Godey: 16 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 8) *Cazador Legendary Action, fails to Bite Godey Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 13 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 3

Cazador: 193 HP +60 temp HP Tyrus: 79 HP Astarion: 105 HP Ghouls: three have 25 HP (one dead) Skeletons: ten have 17 HP, three have 6 HP Chatterteeth: 53 HP Godey: 64 HP

Ritual Circle: 23 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: One failed unarmed attack, one failed bite  *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from the nearest spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Astarion: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 16 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 8 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Ghouls collective hits: 14 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) *Cazador Legendary Action, fails to Bite a ghoul Skeleton collective hits: 34 piercing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 17) Godey: 15 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 21 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 10), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 4

Cazador: 169 HP +40 temp HP Tyrus: 73 HP Astarion: 107 HP Ghouls: four have 17 HP, one has 9 HP (one dead) Skeletons: three have 9 HP, seven have 1 HP (three dead) Chatterteeth: 45 HP Godey: 56 HP

Ritual Circle: 26 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Two unarmed strikes, 5 bludgeoning damage on second hit *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 20 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 10 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 10 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 5 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Ghouls collective hits: 0 slashing damage Skeleton collective hits: (dead) Godey: 15 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch (crit!) for 29 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 14), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 5

Cazador: 142 HP +20 temp HP Tyrus: 53 HP Astarion: 92 HP Ghouls: one has 2 HP (three dead) Skeletons: (all dead) Chatterteeth: 25 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 21 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray (succeeds saving throw; takes 10) Cazador: Hits magic circle barrier for 0 damage *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Bonus action takes a healing potion at Astarion’s insistence (13 HP) *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 18 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 9 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Removes the last glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Ghouls collective hits: 8 slashing damage (resistant; takes 4) *Cazador Legendary Action, Bites last ghoul for a total 14 damage Godey: Fails to hit Chatterteeth: Fails to hit with Chill Touch

Round 6

Cazador: 128 HP + 10 temp HP Tyrus: 57 HP Astarion: 92 HP Chatterteeth: 25 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 24 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Hits magic circle barrier for 0 damage *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Fail to bite Chatterteeth Rat swarm 2: Fail to bite Astarion Rat swarm 3: Bite Tyrus for 8 piercing damage Tyrus: Casts Message and speaks to Chatterteeth *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 18 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 9 piercing damage; Cazador heals 18 HP Astarion: Kills rat swarm 3 with 31 total damage, bonus action Bite for 7 HP healing *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 6 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 3 piercing damage; Cazador heals 6 HP Godey: 12 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6)  Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 17 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant, takes 8), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 7

Cazador: 104 HP Rat swarm: two have 24 HP (one dead) Tyrus: 42 HP Astarion: 81 HP Chatterteeth: 1 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 24 radiant damage from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Arcana Check to find Sunbeam rune in the ritual circle *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Fail to bite Chatterteeth Rat swarm 2: Fail to bite Astarion Tyrus: Reanimates all thirteen skeletons with Animate Dead, 7th level *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 14 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 7 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Kills rat swarm 2 with 28 total damage *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Skeleton collective hits: 33 piercing damage (resistant; takes 16)*Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 21 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 10 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Godey: 0 slashing damage Chatterteeth: (dead)

Round 8

Cazador: 44 HP Rat swarm: one has 24 HP (two dead) Tyrus: 14 HP Skeletons: four have 10 HP, two have 3 HP (six dead) Astarion: 74 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 22 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Successfully finds Sunbeam rune in the ritual circle and removes it *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Bite Astarion for 3 piercing damage Tyrus: Reanimates six skeletons with Animate Dead, 4th level *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 14 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 7 piercing damage; Cazador heals 14 HP (Three skeletons go down, Tyrus goes unconscious and gets thrown off the edge of the platform) Astarion: Grabs Tyrus's hands before he's too out of reach, lifts him back up from the platform *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Skeleton collective hits: 33 piercing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 16) *Cazador drops to 0 hit points, which activates Misty Escape to his coffin

Bonus Round

Astarion: Throws Cazador out of coffin Tyrus: Uses class feature "Command Undead" on Cazador(see Tyrus character sheet or necromancy subclass for details) *Cazador fails the saving throw, but spends his last legendary resistance to succeed) --after a bit of angsty dialogue and commands-- Tyrus: Uses class feature "Command Undead" on Astarion *Astarion does not resist/chooses to automatic fail on saving throw Astarion: Slashy slashy dagger dagger!!! (All it took was 1 point of damage, Cazador had not healed yet) Tyrus & Astarion: Hug 🩵🩵🩵

[flowercrowngods]

When Eddie finds Steve lying on the living room floor, he’s not concerned at first. It’s what he does sometimes, and Eddie himself can appreciate a bit of floor time on occasion, too, but for Steve it’s sacred. So he smiles and sits down beside him, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, a “Hey, pretty boy” already on his lips before he freezes.

Because Steve isn’t all relaxed like he usually is, with his mind just a few inches off to the side where everything is calm and fine and better. And when he finally meets Eddie’s eyes, they’re not glazed over but sharp. Sharp with something that cuts right through Eddie, because he’s seen this look before, and he knows just what to do.

“Stevie, baby, I’m right here. I’m gonna make a call, okay, I will be right back.” When Steve opens his mouth, Eddie just leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. He’s not sure how much invasion of space is allowed, but Steve is still holding his hand so that has to count for something, right? “Shh, don’t speak,” he whispers. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He tries not to kiss Steve like he’s about to break, or talk to him like something’s wrong, because nothing is wrong. Steve is not wrong for getting like this sometimes, it’s not his fault; it’s not something Eddie can’t handle. Steve doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s somehow wrong for getting into that headspace where words just won’t come out of his mouth and he needs to lie down and hope that will help.

Which, today it didn’t, apparently.

Eddie gets up with one last kiss to Steve’s hand and a reassuring smile, and goes to make a phone call. There’s only one person who can help Steve get out of his head, and Eddie doesn’t really understand it, nobody does, but they all know it.

“Hey, Joyce,” he sighs in relief when she answers the phone. “Is El home?”

“Eddie! Yes, she’s there, what… Steve?”

“Steve.”

Joyce sighs and Eddie knows she’s worried and wants to tell her not to be, it’s not fair to be worried, Steve hates when they worry, but. He’d be a hypocrite.

“You know you don’t have to ask, honey. Get over here, I’ll make some cocoa.”

With a smile, Eddie hangs up and goes back to Steve, crouching down beside him to stroke the hair out of his face. “Hey there again, pretty boy. I’m gonna drive over to Joyce’s, wanna tag along?”

What he really wants to say is, I’ll take care of you. Everything is gonna be just fine. But Steve doesn’t like the fuss. That kind of discussion is for another day, though. When Steve can actually get a word in.

That is how they find themselves in the Hopper-Byers household, Eddie holding Steve’s hand as the boy tries to make himself smaller than he is — like every time. Joyce doesn’t fuss, and Eddie knows just how much that takes, knows that Joyce is so much stronger than him in moments like this.

“Steve,” comes a small voice from the door to Eleven’s room, and Eddie finds the girl approaching them slowly. Beside him, Steve sways and Eddie tightens his grip for a second, brushing a kiss to Steve’s cheek before letting him go.

Eleven wraps her arms around Steve’s middle and the two of them just hold each other. They have a bond that none of them truly understand, one that Eddie knows even Robin is jealous of. But it makes sense, he figures. On some kind of deeply existential level, it does make sense for Eleven to be the one who can help Steve when he’s nonverbal like this.

Maybe because she doesn’t talk much. Maybe because around her he doesn’t feel like he has to be anyone or anything because it’s all the same to her. Or maybe there’s a special kind of magic in the way she will pull him onto the floor, their backs against the couch, his head on her shoulder and her fingers running through Steve’s hair.

They’ve been through something together. Maybe they go through something together every time they talk each other down without words — because in return, Steve does the same for her. It shouldn’t work, but it does.

It’s calm and quiet in the living room and Eddie shares a glance with Joyce before they step outside to give Steve and El some privacy.

“I hate seeing him like this,” Eddie admits finally. It’s hardly more than a whisper, a treacherous little truth that cuts into his heart every time this happens.

“I know,” Joyce says. “Me too.”

“I hate that I can’t help him.”

Oh the truths just keep coming. It’s that kind of moment.

“You’re helping him, honey. You are. But sometimes we need different people for different hurts. And that boy has more than all of us combined. Or… Well, not all of us.” And she’s looking through the window, watching El and Steve still wrapped around each other.

And it’s true. Eddie knows. Maybe that’s why he hates it so much. Steve’s nonverbal episodes are a stark reminder for all the pain he had to take upon himself. Alone. For years.

“Just love him through it,” Joyce continues. “Not despite it, not because it it. Just through it.”

“I am. I do. Don’t think I could stop even if he asked me to.”

She smiles and squeezes his hand. “Good. Now, join me on a run to the bakery? I think they’ll need something sweet when they’re back with us.”

With one last glance through the window, seeing Steve calm and quiet, Eddie bows and offers his arm to Joyce. “I’d be delighted to join you, lady Byers.”

It’ll be fine, he tells himself. They’ll be fine.

[puffballwarrior-blog]

So I watch the Shadowsides movie with some friends a few days ago and I felt inspired to make Shadowside Magonyan.

Here's his Lightside and Shadowside :3

This won't be canon to actual Spectral Dreams but it was fun to make!

(I went on a rant in the tags oops)

[realchemistry]

Eddie didn’t remember him. Buck took a deep breath, Eddie was alive, that was all that mattered.

Or: Eddie got shot, lost some of his memories and came to an interesting conclusion.

[mangofresca]

luminary

He isn’t sure where it comes from, but it’s an urge that rises suddenly, all-consumingly, with no hunger or warning to prelude it, like a countdown placed upon his life only seen as it hits zero—a flash of red, and suddenly every second ticking by is another second too late, another moment lost.

Lovino is smiling so brightly that the simmering heat of Agrigento’s summer seems more akin to the frigid winds of winter. He’s laughing—not a snort, not the contrite brush aside or sardonic smirk he gets when he thinks he’s being clever—head thrown back and shoulders shaking with mirth.

Alfred forgets how to speak, how to think or move or breathe, forgets everything except how to stare—gawk, his brain helpfully supplies, very obviously—regarding Lovino as if he was the one to paint the stars across the sky, to sprinkle indigo and amethyst across the midnight horizon, to use hardened hands to cradle the sun and bring lighted warmth to the world. As if he was something beautiful, ethereal, untouchable.

Except, he’s not; he’s not untouchable in the way Alfred previously perceived him to be, distanced by water and antiquity and a complex Lovino tends to wear like his own form of bastardized battle armor. He is there, right there, laughing, and Alfred wants to reach out a hand and–

And.

He’s touching Lovino’s face before he’s even thought the action through, before he’s even realized he’s done it, cupping his hand around the swell of a cheek and feeling the heat of it still flushed with laughter and wondrously-worn glee. He feels the expression under his palm calm as that smile fades, replaced instead with slowly-dawning confusion, soft in its perplexity, and he traces his thumb across the dip of Lovino’s under-eye, if only to savor the way those dark eyelashes flutter.

“Alfred?” Lovino asks, painfully sincere, with a tone that melds between a question and vague, befuddled acknowledgement. His eyes are wide. He does not move away.

“Would it be cool if I kissed you right now?” It’s a reply in the technical sense, an answer to a question that had seemingly been hanging in the air for longer than he realized. His own voice is startlingly soft considering the pressing urgency he feels tugging at his gut, his hands, his tongue, like if he can’t have this nownownow he’ll die, starved, stripped of life before he’d even realized he was bleeding.

Lovino gapes at him, blinking slowly. The cheek beneath Alfred’s palm burns warm, and he almost expected Lovino to blush, to feel skin stain itself scarlet beneath the pads of his fingers. He wonders if he should ask why it doesn’t.

There’s a moment where hazel eyes flick from his down to his lips before rising again, and Lovino makes a noise in the back of his throat like a hum, a huh, like he’s realized something about himself and the world and the universe. Like the knowledge of whatever it is has only just settled, and now he must contend with life now that he has it.

He blinks at Alfred again. “Yeah.”

He says it like it’s easy, like it’s always been easy, like permission would have always been granted had Alfred ever had the wherewithal to ask. Alfred files that away for later, wondering, not for the first time, if he missed something in the tones of Lovino’s voice, if something else existed in the recesses of cutting words and huffed musings and trite insults that were never really all that insulting to begin with. But that’s for another time, or maybe never, because Alfred never really cared to indulge in worries and preclusions, and Lovino is too good to be wasted on half-baked ruminations when the now was so much better.

Lovino says it like it’s easy, and when Alfred ducks his head down and leans in, it certainly feels easy, easier than maybe he expected. It feels like old nights spent tucked beneath the dim lights of New York speakeasies, of hushed conversations held in the stacks of his library, like something big and bright and cosmic had settled off somewhere far away, a revelation exploding in the periphery of his universe, vast and grand in its own private corner.

Lovino’s hand settles boldly on his shoulder, fingers brushing the hairline at the back of his neck, and Alfred can feel every inch of it burn through his clothes. Lovino tastes like vintage wine and the cigarette he had been smoking not ten minutes ago, and even though Alfred hates the smell, he thinks he can learn to like the taste if it’s been tempered by sweet reds and the natural soft of Lovino’s tongue brushing past his lips. Alfred feels Lovino’s cheek move beneath his palm, and he doesn’t quite get why until he realizes that Lovino is smiling, pulling away enough that they look like two kids grinning into each other’s mouths, lost and dumb and found.

“Been wanting to do that for a while?” Lovino sounds smug, but his eyes are bright, sparkly, pretty, his hand fisting the back of Alfred’s shirt.

For a moment, Alfred thinks, if you count eighty seconds ago a while, sure, but that doesn’t seem right, isn’t right, and Alfred can feel certain pieces of their histories click into place—not any sort of life-altering change, but instead something soft, the clink of a plate placed in front of him on the nights when he wouldn’t bother with sleep, the fresh scent of pasta and garlic bread the only thing to bring him back into his own body, the reminder that he existed within the scope of four walls, the person as well as the land.

Lovino is so close, close enough for Alfred to feel the tickle of his bangs against his forehead, and suddenly every word and every gaze and every laugh pulled from scowling lips all align and glimmer like radiant galaxies, all with Lovino at the center.

“Nah,” he says, grinning at the eye roll. “Just thought of it now.” But that doesn’t stop him from doing it again.

[dukeofdelirium]

I’ve been in the DN/lawlight fandom for well over a decade and yet I’ve never written a fic for them because they scare me lmao. idek why. they just scare me and I’m afraid I’ll write them wrong and I think it’s bc I love them SOOOO much so the idea of doing anything even somewhat mid for them would be such a personal let down