#prior written

[tomurakii]

I like bloodweave. Okay. But I DON'T like the version of them in fanfic where Astarion is a dick and Gale is like. Whining and pleading for him to be emotionally vulnerable (or just. Nice to him) prior to the relationship being established. Because that is just not accurate. Gale needs the player to express interest in him during his weave-teaching scene before he even considers hitting on them properly. Gale is entirely resigned to his fate and needs someone else to pull him away from it. Gale only starts being sweet and romantic and devoted after you accept his love confession and give him hope for the future. Gale says fuck all and then slinks away to cry privately if you break up with him.

Like he isn't chasing after people lmao. He isn't dropping to his knees and crying about anything much less this dickhead he met a week ago. He is overwhelmingly passive about literally everything personal to him up to and including his own death (provided there are no casualties/there is a good reason) until after the player expresses that they care about him. Astarion is not doing that in any of these fics.

Like Gale is friendly and a dork and doesn't wanna get murdered but he fully has a suicide plan. He thought the artefacts would help him survive but he didn't believe he'd ever truly live again. If Gale confessed and Astarion said/did like one (1) mean thing afterward Gale's romance is closed off forever. He's wandering into the forest to cry. He's killing himself immediately. His fragile ego and self worth can't take it. You have to understand that when we joke about him being pathetic it's not bc he's like. Sopping wet and chasing people down and begging for a scrap of attention. It's because he craves affection but would literally rather die than ask or even hope for it until someone else forces that hope back into his serotonin-deficient tadpole brain.

[lesbianrobin]

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

[vickyvicarious]

Mina in May: I can't wait to join you at the seaside for a relaxing summer vacation, Lucy!

Whitby, day 1: Lucy is lovely, the town is beautiful, lots of spooky stories to enjoy...

Whitby, day 3: Jonathan is MIA and Lucy is sleepwalking. But surely it will all be fine soon enough!

Whitby, day 4: No fiances to be had for either of us. Lucy's sleepwalking is keeping me up all night. It's hot, and I'm tired, and I'm worried. At least Lucy looks healthy for now, but where is my Jonathan?

[anchoredgalaxy]

i do hate how much acotar discourse revolves around trying to pretend the story isn't plotted like garbage. the entire second book of this series is a giant retcon and characters are constantly changed on the fly. anytime someone tries to defend this series as if the characters are real people capable of making decisions and as if the plotting is at all organic i just can't take that seriously.

[jheselbraum]

You know what, I went into A Glitch in Time expecting it to be basically a nickelodeon sanctioned fixit fic and it was and it was really good but I think the best part about the whole "ghosts are manifestations of human emotions" thing that retcons elmer's stupid fucking "they're monsters from another dimension not dead humans" retcon is its implications for The Ultimate Enemy.

I mean, unaltered timeline Danny's whole thing was he wanted to get rid of his, and I quote, "painful human emotions" which I assume what Danny thought he was doing was becoming full ghost so he wouldn't have to deal with the loss of his loved ones but what he was actually doing was taking the spiritual embodiment of that pain and removing the reasonable human fleshboy from it, making said emotions about a million times stronger.

[youregonnabeokay-kid]

SO. i was able to figure out the general structure of the script JLH leaked.

[explanation under the cut]

in order for all this to make sense, the first thing you need to know is that in north america all screenplays (scripts) are written in the same format

knowing this, we can deduce the general structure of the scene and even the length of some of the words

first we need to address the big question everyone's been asking:

are they talking about Bobby or Eddie?

screenplays are always typed in courier font, and in courier the capital letters B and E are identical at their left sides.

so while i enjoy people trying to figure out if the blurry letter in line 24 is a B or an E, the answer is it could honestly be either

where we really need to look is line one. the screengrab is blurry so i've outlined the word "going" and circled the area we should pay attention to

at first, the last letter of the prior word looks like an undistinguishable blob, but there is actually one key thing we can discern from it: the letter can't be y, it doesn't hang low enough

there is a chance that the word is not a name and is "he" which would not rule out Bobby or Eddie. however, that would mean the conversation goes on for at least 14 lines without mentioning "him" by name which is (heavily) frowned against in screenwriting. so chances are they're talking about Eddie

also, with what we know about the characters it's most likely Eddie. can you really see Bobby not talking to Buck because of... well, anything? and we already know that Eddie has a difficult time communicating. so i've decided to go with him for this script but haven't 100 per cent ruled Bobby out

moving on to the actual script itself, anything not highlighted in red is something i'm confident is either the exact wording or something similar. the red sections are the parts that i'm less confident in or know are incorrect somehow

Maddie's first dialogue block is the part i had the most trouble with. with context from the following conversation i figured that she probably asked something along the lines of when [Eddie] will be back at work. the main issue with this section is that the top line is actually six letters shorter than what i have written. this also means that the word that follows "going" has to be at least eight letters long. i tried messing around with the dialogue a bit but couldn't come up with something that would fit the appropriate letter count so for now i just wrote a line similar to what i think the actual line probably is

line six has to be either 12 or 13 spaces long and the first word has to be at least four letters long so i used "really soon" as a place holder, but i'm not completely confident in it

for line eight i initially had "Oh, that's good." but the line was one space short so i changed the "Oh" to "Hey" instead. i don't feel too poorly about this one but it still doesn't feel right to me. if the actual script says "Hey" i wouldn't be surprised if JLH changes it to something else or forgoes the exclamation completely

the final line is just a rough guess of what it could be. i'm not sure how formal the 911 writers are with action lines so i just took a random guess. some writers are extremely formal with action lines while others are more comedic with it (Neil Gaiman is a great example of this). i'm guessing the 911 writers are more the former but i honestly have no clue

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

i'm glad Sera gets some character growth in Tresspasser (having just completed the first 2 sections, so through the deep roads bit)... she's the only one of the companions present who asks if Lavellan's ok after finding out about the whole elven gods thing (and admits shes tired of being angry about elf-related stuff all the time). the advisors kind of mention it in the group chat but no one else really cares :( and if your Lavellan answers that they're quite upset still actually she tries to comfort you and makes a little note in her book trying to figure out how to make you feel better/to ask Dagna to help later. as a Solas-romancing inquisitor i also do think it's nice that high-approval Sera (which was a bitch to reach as a very elf-y character in the first place) also invites you into the Jennys if the Inquisition folds, vs everyone else being like 'well here's my other plans for life if this doesn't pan out, good luck with uh whatever you end up doing' and is ready to leave you behind.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

My Darling

Summary: A mean clothing boutique shopkeeper. And Kevin who soothes all your insecurities by proving to you what you mean to him.

Oneshot

Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Non-idol au, Fluff?, Friends to Lovers au

If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

Warnings: Oral (r! receiving), Cum eating, Slight hair pulling (m! receiving), Protected Sex, Hand holding during sex, Slight body worship, Praise?, Marking (m! & r! receiving), Some aftercare, Use of pet names: Sweetheart & Darling. Very important: Reader is androgynous in clothing & and doesn’t wear makeup, and has body hair, and is a bit self-conscious about both (nothing Kevin can’t soothe ofc). *And if I missed any pls lmk!*

TW: A shopkeeper makes meanish comments about how the reader dresses and doesn’t shave. Leading to slightly self-conscious thoughts.

Word Count: 3,840

Kevin X Androgynous! Afab! Reader

Requested

Again, if you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work. 

------

You start getting dressed to go out when Kevin calls you up, asking, “Hey, you wanna hang out today?” You look at the clock, “I’d love to, but I have plans to go clothes shopping right now.” He hums, “Okay. How does five sound?” You grin, your heart thumping at the thought of seeing him later, “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” He sweetly says, “See ya.” You grin as you realize you could get something new to wear on your date. You shake your head at yourself and tell your heart to quiet down. He just wanted to hang out with you as a friend. It definitely wasn’t a date, nor was your outing for him, but it didn’t mean you could get something for the occasion as well. 

You go to a few shops, buying a few things here and there before you end up at a local boutique. You head in, and the shopkeeper sweetly greeted you. You look around, picking out a motorcycle jacket, a few pairs of jeans, and two shirts. The jacket paired well with all the jeans you tried on, including the jeans you had worn there. But it was the two shirts that you were having issues with. The first one was too shapely. And it gave you an ick, so you took it off before trying on the yellow shirt. It was definitely your cut, but you weren’t sure if the color muted your skin tone. So, you ask the boutique owner for a second opinion. You spin around in front of her after asking her about the color to show her how it looks, and she says, “Honey, that?” You nod, and she shakes her head, “You’ll never get a partner if you keep dressing the way you do. Don’t you want something that’s flattering and shows off your natural curves?” You blink at her. All you had wanted was a color opinion. 

You give her a tight-lipped smile as you express to her, “I dress in a way that makes me happy…” The shopkeeper shakes her head, “Up to you, really.” As she walks back to her register, she tsks, “What’s with this new generation and not shaving…” You quickly get out of the clothes you were trying on and put your clothes back on. You didn’t want them anymore. You just wanted to go home. You put the clothes on the return rack and tell her tersely, “Thanks.” As if she didn’t say what she had in the changing rooms, she cheerily says, “Stop by again~.” You leave the store empty-handed, and it takes everything in you to make it out to your car without crying. They were tiny remarks, but they hurt so bad. Maybe she was right… 

You barely made it home, wiping your eyes at every traffic light you stopped at. When you finally parked, you rushed to your apartment, throwing your bags of clothes at the front door and yourself onto the couch as you wallowed. It wasn’t often your insecurities bothered you because you were confident in your skin. But her remarks cut like a remark. You couldn’t be with someone like Kevin. You didn’t dress flatteringly; it made you uncomfortable. You didn’t wear makeup, you didn’t shave, you didn’t do anything that was expected of you by society. And you didn’t want to, and it never mattered before because how you looked and dressed made you happy. But what if those things did actually matter? What if Kevin wouldn’t want to date you because of that? You cry harder into your couch cushion, trying to calm yourself.

An hour later, a knock comes on your front door. And you wipe your eyes before checking the peephole to see Kevin standing there. You gulp, remembering he asked to hang out later today. You try to wipe away any remnants of tears left on your face. So, it wouldn't look like you’ve been crying for the past few hours. You open the door with the best smile you can muster, and he smiles at you, “Hey, (Y/n)-” Before he pauses as he searches your eyes, “You look like you’ve been crying. You okay, sweetheart?” You let him in as you shake your head, looking down at the ground, “I just… I had a really bad day…” He hums and asks you to talk about it. You sigh “It’s over something small…” He shakes his head, “Even if it’s small doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” You bite your lip, “I um… well, I went to a boutique earlier.” He nods as you both sit down on the couch. “Yeah, I remember you telling me you were going shopping.” You give him a curt nod, “I did get a few things at other stores. But, uh, I asked the shopkeeper to come over because I couldn’t decide if this one yellow shirt complimented me or not...” 

He puts his hand over yours that’s starting to shake, and you sigh, “She uh… She said that um…” He rubs his thumb over your hand, waiting for you to continue. “She told me that I’ll never get a partner… if I keep dressing the unflattering way I do.” He gasps, “She said that!?” You nod, unable to hold back a sniffle, “It’s just um… it’s something I’ve always worried about. I mean, usually, I'm confident in my style and self. But her saying that… It hit a sore spot.” He shakes his head, “But, sweetheart, she’s wrong. You’ll get a partner no matter what you wear-” You shake your head as you squeeze his hand, “But Kevin,... she’s right, I don’t dress in a way others could possibly like... No one would ever want to date me.” He shakes his head at you, “No, she isn’t. Because if she was right, I wouldn’t find you endlessly attractive and want to date you, huh?” He presses his lips together as he realizes what he said, “This is not how I wanted this to go…” You blink at him in disbelief, “You do?” He nods, “You’re so attractive to me.” You ask him wearily, “You don’t care about how I dress?” He squeezes your hand, bringing you closer, “No, rather, I enjoy it, and god, your outfits make you look hot. And I enjoy how you don’t conform to stupid patriarchal standards.” You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of a lie, “Seriously?” He nods, “I mean it. You look so cool. And you being confident in your style makes you even hotter.” You shake your head, “I... I don’t believe you. You mean you’ve liked me back all this time?” And he asks, “Do you want me to prove it to you?” You blink at him but give him a small nod, “I need words, darling.” You whisper, “Please.” 

He brings you into his hold, removing his hand from yours to cup your cheeks. He smiles as he looks at you, “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are beautiful?” You whisper, “No…” And he tells you, “They’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen.” You blush, and he finally brings you in for a kiss. His lips meld with yours as he pulls you onto his lap. He breaks apart to tell you, “I know this outfit makes you look undeniably hot, but I can’t wait to see what you look like without it on.” You blush as you pull him in for another kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He runs his tongue along your lips, asking for permission, and you grant him it. His tongue explores your mouth as he runs his hands over your shirt. You let out a soft moan as you pull on his hair, making him let out a soft grunt. 

He pulls back to just kiss your lips, his eyes searching yours. As he gets his hand under your shirt, you shake your head, pulling away from him, and he immediately moves his hands away, “I’m sorry, was I moving too fast?” You shake your head, “That’s… That’s not it.” He waits for you to continue, “What is it?” “I- I… I didn’t- I don’t shave… and she also made a comment about that.” And he smiles before he gives you a shrug, “A little body hair never hurt anyone.” And you shake your head, closing your eyes, “But Kevin…” He tsks at you, “You could be bigfoot, bald, green with yellow polka dots, and I’d still find you attractive. I promise you; nothing is going to scare me away. So may I please see what you look like without your shirt on?” You ask, looking him in the eyes, “Pinky promise?” He tells you, “I’d swear on a stack of ten bibles for you, but yes, I pinky promise.” He links his pinky with yours, and you sigh, “Okay.” His hands creep under your shirt, gently rolling it up before he takes it off. You see his grin grow as he looks over you, “You’re so fine, darling.” You blush at him and whisper a small thanks before he pulls you into another kiss. You find your hands wandering to the end of his shirt and slightly lift it up to run your hands over his stomach. He cheekily flexes his abs as you do. And you giggle into the kiss. 

He peels off his shirt and lifts you up into his arms with ease, “Why don’t we take this somewhere nicer?” He takes you to your bedroom and lays you gently on the comforter. He reaches over and finds the switch for the bedside lamp. And when it turns on, he grins as he looks over you. “You look divine.” You blush, and he leans over you to capture your lips in his. He trails his kisses down your jaw and along your neck, leaving little marks as he does. You move your hand, and when he pauses in between hickeys. You pull his face to yours and bring him in for another kiss. You make out for a few minutes before you both pull away breathlessly. And he sighs, “Fuck, I can’t get enough of your lips.” He brings you in for another kiss, and when you pull away this time, he trails kisses down your chest, teasingly nipping at your skin as he makes his way further down. 

He kisses all along your stomach, and then he stops. And you look at him in confusion, and he says, “Before I get too far ahead of myself, are you sure you want to go further?” You sigh, “Please, Kevin.” He grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on it before pulling off your pants and adjusting to be in front of you. He smiles, kissing along your stomach before he kisses you over your panties a few times. He hooks his fingers under them and pulls them off. You gasp as your self-conscious brain catches up to you as you try to hide yourself from him. Kevin raises his eyebrow at you and asks, “And what do you think you’re doing, darling?” You blink at him, and he says, “I want to see every inch of you. Don’t you dare hide.” You nod, and he smiles as he pushes your hands away and your legs back open. He smiles as he kisses up your thighs. As he grows closer, he sucks on your thigh, nipping at it to give you a hickey. As you gasp, he says, “Your little reminder until next time~” 

He swipes his fingers over your entrance and grins, “All for me?” You blush, giving him a small nod as he licks his fingers clean. He lets out a little hum before sinking further into the mattress to place a kiss on your clit. He grins as you let out a whimper and licks a stripe along your folds. He hears you rustling the comforter and looks up to see your hands desperately seeking purchase in your comforter. He reaches his hand up to hold yours before diving in and lapping at your entrance. Making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shoves his face further in. His nose brushes your clit as he closes his eyes in contentment. He groans, “God, you taste so good, darling…” sending vibrations up your spine. You whimper as he continues to figure out what exactly made you twitch. Licking at your entrance before sucking on your clit and back again. Your moans grow louder as he finally finds his rhythm, his tongue running figure eights over your entrance as his nose bumps against your clit. Your moans are like music to his ears, especially when your legs start shaking against his head. You hold his hand tightly as you start squirming, and his other arm comes to hold you down as he eats you out like a starved man. 

Not being able to close your legs, with your free hand, you seek out the next best thing. You grip his hair, causing him to groan against you as you nearly scream from the pleasure, “Kev-Kevin!” He hums, and it sends more vibrations up your spine, and you let out a louder moan. “I’m gonna-” and before you can even finish your sentence, you do. And Kevin hums again as he laps up your juices. His nose bumps into your overstimulated clit as he does, making you cry out. When he finally pulls away and sits up on his knees, you let out a sigh of relief. Your hands separate for a moment so your mind can finally catch up to your brain. And when you look up at him, you see his chin covered in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand and licks it off. He leans over you, “I know I’ve already said it, but you taste so good…” He puts his finger under your chin, pulling you to look at him, “Is all this just for me, darling?” You nod in a stupor, “Just for you…” He smirks, “Good.” before capturing your lips in a kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. 

When he moves back, he reaches back into his pants pocket, pulls out his wallet, and grabs a condom from it. He puts his wallet in his pant pocket before he asks again, “You sure you want to go all the way with me tonight? Because if not, I can always rub one out-” “Kevin, please just fuck me.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk, “You asked for it, darling~” In one swift motion, he pulls off his pants and briefs before slipping the condom over his cock and lining up with your entrance, “Tell me how you feel, okay?” He slips in slowly, and you let out a little gasp, “So- so good, Kev…” He smiles as he grabs your hand again, and your other hand grips the comforter beneath you. You squeeze his hand as he bottoms out, and you both let out a groan. He grunts, “When you’re ready…” He places gentle kisses along your collarbone as he waits for you. You squeeze his hand and tell him he can move. 

He starts out slow, slowly thrusting in and out of you as he starts to work you both into a pace. You whine, “Fa-faster…” You squeeze his hand as his pace picks up, and he squeezes it back before resting his weight on his other forearm. He captures your lips in another kiss and happily swallows your moans as he increases his pace. He pulls away to whisper, “You’re so beautiful, darling.” He gives you another gentle kiss, and you grip your comforter tighter as he starts thrusting even faster. You lean your head up, and he moves his upper body down so you can place kisses on his collarbone. He lets out soft groans as you suck and nip at it to make it nice and red before pulling away. As he thrusts faster, you place a few more kisses up the column of his neck and leave a hickey next to his adam's apple. When you pull back, he’s looking down at you with a small smile on his lips as he starts moving faster, “W-what?” He smiles, pausing to whisper, “I just wanted to kiss you.” He captures your lips in his as he picks the pace back up, and it leaves you moaning in his mouth. 

When his lips leave yours, he shifts his weight to his knees, running his hand up your stomach and to your chin, “You look so hot.” He kisses you again before moving his hand back down and slipping it between you two to rub circles into your clit. You gasp, squeezing his hand tighter and the blankets harder. “Kev-Kevin?” “You close, darling?” You nod as you gasp, and he murmurs to you, “Then cum for me.” Two thrusts later, as if you were under his spell, you come undone. He groans, “Fuck…” He buries his head into your neck as he reaches his own orgasm. He thrusts a few more times, and you whine a bit from the overstimulation, and he stops, breathing heavily as you both try to catch your breath. When you finally can see things other than stars, he pulls out and kisses your forehead, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He gets up from the bed, pulls off his condom, throws it away, and heads to your bathroom. He returns with a damp rag and cleans you up before tossing it into the hamper and lying beside you. He wraps you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face, making you giggle. “I know this backward to ask now… But can I ask you to be mine?” You smile at him and kiss his nose, “Only if you’re mine in return.” He grins, “Of course, my darling.” He kisses you before pulling the blanket over the two of you. You cuddle into his chest, letting his steady heartbeat put you to sleep. 

When you wake up in the morning, you find Kevin’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you close to him. You look back to see him starting to blink awake. And he smiles at you. His voice is gravely as he says, “You even look hot with a messy bedhead, huh?” You blush and shake your head at him, and he turns you over. You ask, “When did you fall for me?” He smiles, “Five days after the day I met you. But you were so out of my league at the time.” You blink at him, “What do you mean?” He laughs, “You were so cool. You didn't care about what others thought and dressed to impress yourself. And I thought that was so hot.” You laugh, and before you can interject, he says, “Knowing you do care behind that tough exterior. I promise to remind you all the time.” You shove your head into his chest, “Kevin...” You hear him laugh before he asks, “Now, it’s only fair if you tell me.” You look up at him, “I was listening to you talk about something you were passionate about a month after getting to know you. And that was it for me.” He hums, “What was it about?” You grin, “Beyoncé.” He laughs, “Good to know my nerdy fanboy talk turns you on.” You lightly smack his chest at that, “Shut up.” He places a kiss on your forehead before curling around you. You stay like that for a few minutes before he asks, “Would you like to go back to that boutique? I know there were some things you wanted.” You sigh as you look down at your blanket, “I mean, I do… But…” He nods, “Is it because of what she said?” You nod, and he kisses your nose, “Well, now, we get to prove her wrong. And you can try on that top, and I’ll give you my honest color opinion.” You look into his eyes as you ask, “Really?” He nods, “Of course.” You grin, “Okay, let’s get dressed.” 

He offers you his hand when you get out, and you happily take it in yours. When you get close to the door, he looks at you as if to ask you if you are okay with this. You nod. You really did want that motorcycle jacket. The shopkeeper greets you in the same cheery voice, like nails on a chalkboard. You find the jeans, jacket, and shirt you had tried on before. And Kevin grins, “Oh, that jacket is so cool.” You smile, “I love how it looks.” He smiles, and you lead him over to the changing rooms. He lets go of your hand and stands guard outside the changing room. You show him how the jacket looks, and he grins, “Yeah, that’s sexy.” You laugh, and he smiles as he waits for you to try on your shirt. You look over it and still can’t tell if the color looks good on you. And your brain starts replaying what she said to you. Before it can shake you, you quickly move the curtain back. You catch Kevin glaring at the shop owner and giggle before you say, “What do you think?” He smiles, “That yellow looks beautiful on you, darling. It makes your skin glow.” You blush, “Really?” He grins and kisses your nose, “You should get it, and I think it’ll pair with the jacket well, too.” You grin at him. That’s all you wanted to hear. You try the jacket with it and find he’s right before changing back. 

You head to the counter, hand in hand, squeezing his hand for reassurance as you draw closer to the shopkeeper. He whispers, “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here.” She rings your stuff up, and you see her look at your interlocked hands. And he squeezes your hand, grounding you. She tells you the total. And before you can pull out your wallet. Kevin says, “I’m paying for my partner’s clothes.” Her eyebrows raise at him as she scoffs, “Okay.” She hands you your bag and tells you both to have a nice day with a gruff tone. He pulls you in for a kiss right in front of the door, and you hear her gasp. He pulls away and opens the door, and both of you snicker at her attitude when you leave the store. And you tell him, “You didn’t have to pay…” He shrugs, “I wanted to.” You shake your head at him, “But Kevin-” He opens your door, “Plus, wasn’t it fun to prove her wrong?” You smirk, “It kind of was…” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “Then that’s what matters most.” You shake your head, and once he’s in, he asks, “What do you say to being wined and dined, darling?”  You grin as you both buckle in, “Oh hell yeah.”

[alicent-archive]

The Many "Daeron the Daring's"

It’s actually really entertaining that everyone’s depiction of Daeron is different from fic to fic; like here are some characterisations I’ve seen since I got into HOTD.

He’s mentioned by name ONCE and then never spoken about again, to the point where you think that the author has just decided…not to include him and hasn’t deleted his mention, OR, you’ve just hallucinated the entire thing and since the fic is 20k you are NOT going to go back and check.

He’s super into the faith because of his mother and Oldtown.

OR!

He really couldn’t care less, but it would be too weird to leave any mention of the faith OUT of his character because he just gives off choir boy vibes for some reason.

Dead-in-the-narrative Daeron who just haunts either Aemond or Alicent.

Alive-in-the-narrative Daeron who just exists to get the civil war moving.

An Otto-fied Daeron whose traits are scarily similar to his grandfather because…someone has to bear Otto’s genes I guess?

The nerdiest nerd that’s ever nerded.

“Only included in letters” Daeron.

Has the closest relationship with Aemond due to faith stuff and/or Alicent stuff.

Super sassy and super sarcastic Daeron who is there to liven up the death and terror of war, and in doing so, he becomes strangely aware of the doomed narrative he’s in.

BAMF!Daeron who is competent at EVERYTHING and it weirdly works because no one knows what skills he possesses in canon anyway so yeah he can embroider what are you going to do about it?

A hot twink.

Duty, honour, and family Daeron whom you could place next to Jace and no one would be able to tell the difference between the two.

Just “Some Guy” Daeron.

Killed by a tent Daeron (usually written by a heavily TB author who you just know was hooting and hollering while writing that scene).

Alicent’s little boi, little lad, little darling.

The author’s favourite character, which you can easily tell from how early his introduction is, and how he deus ex machina’s his way through things that should’ve killed him.

A Daeron that is written so beautifully and so convincingly that in your head he’s your best friend and has made it into your top blorbo list despite not even having an appearance in the show.

I just love every version of this character, like idk it’s just a really nice Daeron the Daring ecosystem we have going on.

[cosmicwar]

[cempasuchilpodridos]

chat I think I just read a fanfic that was as old as me

[hearteyesdiaz]

seeing people defend tommy by saying ‘he was on call! he couldn’t dress up! he was tired!’ cracks me up because he’s not real!! he was WRITTEN to be on call! they could have easily written him to be NOT on call, but instead they CHOSE to make him leave. they CHOSE to have him not dress up when all he really needed to do was wear a jacket that he could take off quickly. they CHOSE to have him be yawning bored (whether it’s because he was ‘working’ or not) while someone else was trying to make the most of it. he’s not a real person!! every single thing he says and does is specifically written and directed that way, why can’t people understand that 😂

Lol you nailed it nonny

[communistkenobi]

I’m watching a documentary my friend recommended to me called the law in these parts, which is about the history of israeli military law in palestine, and like. jesus christ they were literally just doing lebensraum. the same low density suburban development that plagues north america, the same plan of fascist expansion eastward done by nazi germany was done in palestine, with the justification that these residential settlements built for settler civilians were actually military outposts and therefore legal under international law. it’s literally just lebensraum

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

Eddie doesn’t want to tell the kids yet. Steve kind of understands, but he also knows Dustin’s never going to forgive him for holding out like this. He cancels his biweekly lunch with Dustin twice before sitting Eddie down and saying, “We gotta tell him something.”

“Fuck off,” says Eddie.

“He’s twenty-five years old. He can handle it.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What the hell are you worried about, then?” Steve snaps. “I can’t keep lying to him, man! It’s not fucking fair! Just because you—”

“Steve,” says Robin. “Come on. Cool your jets, hotshot.”

Steve realizes he’s been kind of yelling, then. He also realizes that he’s standing over Eddie, who’s folded into a defensive crouch, and Eddie’s nails are in serious danger of ripping the couch cushions open. Eddie doesn’t look scared, exactly, but his face has gone inhumanly still and blank. It’d probably be worrying if there was any space in Steve for worry.

The anger’s still roaring full-tilt through Steve, though. He gets like this sometimes for no goddamn reason at all, and he knows it’ll pass in a minute, but right now the urge to break something is so, so strong.

“Fuck,” he snarls, and wheels around, storming into the kitchen.

He runs the tap just so there’s some noise as he tries to get his shit under control. Robin comes in after a little while.

“I’m—going to the gym,” Steve says, still gripping the sink hard.

“Okay,” says Robin. “Be safe.”

———

When he comes back, Eddie’s not in the living room.

“I told him he could hang out in my room for a while,” Robin says, before Steve can work himself up into a panic. “I think it would be good for him to have, like…his own private space. Not—I’m not talking about kicking him out, obviously. But maybe we could figure out a partition or something in the living room?”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” says Steve. “God. I’m so sorry. He knows I’m sorry, right?”

Robin flicks him on the forehead. “Yeah, he gets it, dingus. I think he called you an ambulatory fountain of penitence once. Like, a perpetual apology machine.”

“Sure,” says Steve. “Got a lot to apologize for.”

“Nope, we’re not doing that,” says Robin, patting him gingerly on the shoulder. “I’d hug you but you’re all gross and sweaty. Go shower, you’ll feel like a person again.”

He does feel like a person again after a shower, but the Dustin question still hasn’t been figured out. He tries to bring it up again after a few days.

“I wouldn’t even have told you guys I was back if you hadn’t kidnapped me,” says Eddie, picking at his dinner. Vegan stuff is usually okay, weirdly enough, so Steve’s been learning to cook with tofu. He’s not sure if Eddie actually gets anything out of it on a nutritional level; he hasn’t asked.

“Yeah, I know,” says Steve. He’s trying pretty hard not to get mad again. It keeps him up sometimes, thinking about how easily Eddie could’ve wandered into a different bar that night. He hopes that they would’ve crossed paths sometime anyway, being in the same city and all, but maybe not. He just doesn’t know.

“So you get it, right?” says Eddie. “Why I don’t want to put that on the kids. They’ve all, like…processed it and everything. They’ve moved on, just like you did before I came back and fucked up your life again. And you didn’t even really know me.”

It’s not like he’s saying it in a mean way, but it’s deliberate. He’s watching Steve carefully to see how it lands. Steve takes a deep breath; he can do this right, this time.

“Eddie,” he says. “You know I’m glad you’re back, right? You’re not fucking up my life, I’m happy you’re here.”

“You seem a little stressed for a guy who’s supposed to be happy.” Eddie leans back and smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Just seems sometimes like maybe it would’ve been better for you if I’d stayed, like, a story from your past.”

“No,” says Steve. “No. No. Never. It—might’ve been less complicated, maybe. But not better.”

Eddie looks down at his plate, silently fiddling with the golden-brown chunks of fried soy protein, and Steve realizes it might not just be about how the kids will react.

“Hey. You know it’s going to be fine, right? Dustin loves you. He wants you in his life, whatever that means, and you know he’s not gonna do anything to make you uncomfortable. Plus, he lives like one town away and has his own car, so if I keep putting him off like this he’s just gonna show up here one day and then we’ll really be screwed.”

It’s kind of a joke but it’s also really, really true. Eddie laughs, some of the tension finally dropping out of his shoulders, and says: “Okay. You’ve worn me down, Harrington. Alert the brat pack.”

[thatonebirdwrites]

I distracted myself by editing this chapter and getting it up. My cat is dying. It's killing me. My precious boy, my fluffmaster, quarkosaurus... I just. I'm just devastated.

Anyway, this is updated. I still hope to do monthly or bi-monthly updates until finished.

Stay safe folks.

Excerpt:

On day three of dispersing the magical cure, Kara anxiously listened for Lena’s heartbeat. She slept for an entire day, rested the next day, and only today chose to head to L-Corp to work in the labs. Kara was worried that Lena pushed herself too soon after such an exhausting ritual.

“And… you’re not listening again,” Nia said, exasperated. “Come on, Kara, Lena will be fine.” 

“I know, I know.” Kara clung to the pole on the bus. The engine vibrations shook the floor and rang with an irritating dissonance that only she could hear. Chatter from other passengers slid over her senses, and she did her best to ignore them. But that proved difficult if she wanted to continue to listen for Lena’s heartbeat. “She was just so pale, Nia.” The metal creaked under her grip. “I know she rested for two days, but she pushes herself so much.”

“Kara…” Nia nodded at the pole, and Kara loosened her grip, embarrassed. “Look, I’m worried too, but I also trust Lena’s judgment.” 

“I do too!” Kara huffed.

Nia rose her eyebrows. “Right…”

Kara stuffed her phone back in her pocket before Nia could see the half-written text she’d composed for Lena. Trust, she trusted Lena. She really did, but at the same time, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“Look,” Nia said with a sigh. “I get it. I really do, but Kara, she’s pretty well protected with that sword. And yeah, magic takes a lot out of her, but she jumps back pretty fast with rest. So maybe this is more than just you worried about her health, hmm?”

Sometimes Nia was scary accurate. “Do you have to read me so well?” Kara mumbled.

“You wear your emotions on your face, so it’s not that hard.” Nia nudged her side again. “So how about it? What’s really bugging you?”

“I — you know how we started therapy together?” Kara rubbed the back of her neck. 

“You only mentioned it once. What about it? Did it not go well?”

“No, no, it went well I think?” Kara ran her finger up and down the metal pole. “It’s just… bringing up fear. I’ve lost a lot of people, and sometimes I fear it’ll only show her how broken I am inside. That she won’t want to waste her time with me.” 

Loss had crushed her spirit, left her in a state of desperate need to be in control, which had nearly burned down all her relationships. Before she learned of Argo City’s survival, her heart had been ash. She’d tried to inject life into it, tried to bury herself in her work as Supergirl and a journalist. She’d tried to care for others, but her duty came before everything.

Until Lena. 

For Lena, she’d been willing to risk the city, the world. She needed Lena alive, and with how many times people kept trying to kill Lena, was it any wonder her ears tuned to Lena’s heartbeat? Yes, Lena had that fancy magic sword now, but earthquake man still lurked out there, biding his time to strike and take it. Kara couldn’t let that happen. 

“Kara,” Nia said, gently, “That’s part of what trust is. Trusting that Lena will be there with you. She suggested it right?” When Kara nodded, Nia lightly patted Kara’s shoulder. “She wouldn’t do that unless she cared and wanted to work through this with you. Don’t let your fears dominate you. Fight to keep hope alive. You taught me that by the way.” Nia prodded her shoulder. “So I’m reminding you.”

Yeah, she had taught Nia that, hadn’t she? Kara smiled, sadly. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.” It didn’t fully erase her worry or fears, but it reminded her that hope required work to cultivate. So did trust.

Nia gave her a thumbs up. “No problem. So, good timing for us. Here’s our stop.”

Kara breathed out her worry. Time for more mentoring and finding more trustworthy magic-users. J’onn had worked with her the last two days to hunt down a few, but today, Kara hoped to meet up with their San Jose contacts. In case they knew a few. 

Their footsteps sounded muffled by the press of people, and the clink of the bus’s doors rang far too loudly in the sudden silence. Few people watched them exit, most glued to their phones or reading a book. Others stared out the windows, but an eerie quiet had settled among those still seated. 

Kara’s thoughts sizzled with energy and worries — the current task, Lena’s health, magic in general, and tomorrow.

[cosmikazie]

i honestly hate raid shadow legends sponsorship segments with every fiber of my being but my favorite parts of them by far is seeing/listening to the youtubers talk about their "favorite" hero or something and being able to tell they're trying to hold back laughter