beowulff

[beowulff]

Arthur: oh no, you're not getting drunk tonight

Merlin: and why would I listen to you?

Arthur: last time you got drunk, you got us married

Merlin: ...

Arthur: ...

Merlin: what are you afraid of, that I get us divorced?

Arthur: yes

They decided not to mention that Arthur had been sober the first time.

[beowulff]

okay listen. It´s been a hot second since I last saw season 1 so I have absolutely no clue whether the whole Samurai X thing started before or after they took Lloyd in but for the sake of this comic, let´s pretend that it´s possible that Nya got the Samurai idea from Lloyd because I think it´s cute

The timeline is what I make of it.

Also, I NEED more content of the Lloyd & Nya friendship specifically. Especially bc they must have such a special bond due to them both being left out or at least joining the "main 4" later on. I think even later when they´re both fully integrated in the team that they´re especially close and this never changes. I´m sorry I am so emotional about them, these two mean so much to me AAAAHH

(Also sidenote: if anyone has recommendations for ninjago fanfics with little Lloyd or nice found family dynamics in general, pleeeeaaase drop them in the comments, I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER)

[beowulff]

The Little Things

Wrote this in like two hours and felt like posting it haha. By far the shortest thing I've written, and since it's almost midnight where I live, it's probably shit and I am definitely going to cringe in the morning but that's okayyyyy

Anyway, I am obsessed with the trope of confessing something to no one/someone who's sleeping and also I wanted to write a good old love realization drabble so here is Loid wanting to tell Yor that he loves her but being angsty about it.

(Might repost this on ao3 idk)

It is the little things. 

It is the soft smile that she gives him, one that could melt the coldest of hearts, and one that makes his own stand no chance.

It is the way she says his name- it is just an alias, he must remember that, but when she says it, he wants nothing more than for it to be truly his.

It is how she holds Anya, so delicately that he forgets, as she does, that the child is not hers.

And it’s more than that.

It’s the look on her face after an attempt to cook, her cheeks red, the remains of dinner continuing to smolder.

It’s the fact that her voice gets louder when she gets excited, and her eyes sparkle, and the world looks to fall away all together.

It is how the fear of not being good enough is murmured by a woman who has shown time and time again that “good enough” was a goal she surpassed months ago.

He checks under every table. Under every chair, under every bed. In the plant pots, in drains, in the light-bulb fixtures. 

No signs of bugs, no signs that anyone has made him feel this way other than himself.

He thinks that that may be worse. 

He watches her leave now. In two hours, she’ll return from her emergency meeting from city hall, and they’ll both sit and talk and wait for Anya to come home.

His gaze scans for W.I.S.E agents hidden in the alleyways he can see from above. For agents hidden in plain sight, blending in with the crowds.

No one meets his eyes. No one signals up at him, and the impromptu mission he has been waiting all day for does not come. 

And so all he can do is stand there and watch as she walks away, hair billowing out behind her. He’s caught himself wanting to tuck it behind her ear, and that makes his heart pound faster than ever before.

It has been beating particularly hard lately. 

A gust of air right below his knee, and he reaches down to scratch behind Bond’s ears. He wonders if the dog sniffs him now because he can sense it too. The thing, the emotion, that is wrong, that shouldn’t be here.

There are no bugs, no cameras. No nothing, and yet…

She looks up at him then. Or, rather, at the apartment. There is no possibility of seeing him when he’s up this high, and she doesn’t smile to let him know that somehow, she’s performed a miracle. 

He can scarcely see her from here, either.

He shouldn’t be staring at her. If she had been able to catch him looking at her, then-

But at the same time, a foolish, stubborn part of him wants her to see him. Wants her to hear him, to be able to read his thoughts.

If she could, she would leave. He knows this. He wouldn’t blame her. In fact, he would have usually said that he’d encourage it. But there’s a twist in his stomach that’s become all too familiar.

It is the same feeling he gets when Anya grabs onto his hand, or when Bond crushes his ribs as he drapes himself over him.

But he has to shove that part of him down. He has to know, he must know, that this is all a ruse. That in a matter of months, this will all be over. 

Lucky. The voice in his head is dull. That’s a strange word for it.

He watches her grow further and further away, and his chest tightens. 

She will be back in a matter of hours, but one day, he could see her again, walking away from him and not being any the wiser.

It’s a stupid thought. Berlint is not a small town by any means, and the chances of running into her are-

His heart, his thudding, terrible heart, leaps into his mouth and forces out the sentence that he knows he should not say.

There is no reason for Twilight to have any sort of feelings for Yor.

But Loid Forger means every whispered word.

It is the little things that ensure it.

“I love you.”

#spy x family #sxf #loid x yor #twiyor #yor briar #loid forger #anya forger #bond forger #fanfic