#and i write fics about them

[turnupswritessometimes]

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games) Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts) Summary:

"Still think you should say hi to Santa," Sora murmured. His bat wings fluttered, of their own accord.. "Later." It was Sora's turn to roll his eyes. The door in front of them was not the one to Christmas Town. Instead, it was a red heart. Valentines Town. They were had a heartless problem, according to Jack. According to Jack it was, "A delightful, interesting place! Sally and I honeymooned there, you know. I'd hate for them to have trouble." So Sora and Riku agreed to help out. *** Hijinks in Valentine's Town

"I'm confused," Riku said.

"That doesn't take much," Sora replied. He couldn’t resist.

Screams came from the graveyard behind them. Riku glanced back, frowning. It made Sora feel very brave - very cool - to ignore them, but they still sent a chill up his spine.

Riku elbowed him. Hard enough to make him stumble. "Halloweentown is its own world, yet there are doors to other worlds within it. But they aren't their own worlds. You don't need a gummi ship to get to Christmas Town.”

They walked through the forest, under the silver moonlight. It made every shadow look twice as spindly, twice as long. Sora expected Heartless to jump out from behind any of them. His hand itched to summon his keyblade, even though Jack insisted no heartless had gotten back through to Halloween Town. Yet.2

"I could park the Gummi Ship in Christmas Town.” Sora pressed his tongue against his fang until there was a spark of pain. He tasted blood.

Riku just snorted, and rolled his eyes. Disconcerting, when they were yellow. When they glowed like a cats. Whatever magic disguised them in other worlds had bleached what little colour there was in Riku's skin and hair. It made the black stand out; the black of his clothes (not so dissimilar to his own), the black of the great, clawed hands - the black of the horns. They reminded Sora of Maleficent's. Of course, he couldn't say that. It was hard to say anything whilst Riku had fangs. They were all Sora could see. The thought crossed his mind – of cutting his tongue on Riku's fangs – and his cheeks warmed.

Riku actually paused in their walk to look at him, properly. The snort and eye roll had been a dig at Sora's driving. He'd gotten distracted – the shadows made Riku's cheekbones look carved from marble – so he tried elbowed him back.

Those thoughts were getting harder and harder to control. They snuck in whenever he was with Riku, and sometimes when he wasn't. Passing thoughts, but ones that turned his stomach or made him warm. Thoughts about kissing him. He told himself they were silly thoughts, that he’d never do. But they weren't. He knew they weren't. They were more than that.

Still, weren't to be acted upon. Couldn't be acted upon.

They reached the door, in the middle of the woods. The screaming graveyard could barely be heard from here.

"Still think you should say hi to Santa," Sora murmured. His bat wings fluttered, of their own accord..

"Later."

It was Sora's turn to roll his eyes. The door in front of them was not the one to Christmas Town. Instead, it was a red heart. Valentines Town.

They were had a heartless problem, according to Jack. According to Jack it was, "A delightful, interesting place! Sally and I honeymooned there, you know. I'd hate for them to have trouble."

So Sora and Riku agreed to help out.

He took hold of the handle. Took a breath, and tugged it open. He didn't have the same excitement that he had over Christmas Town. There was no Santa on the other side of this door. Instead, there would be – chocolates, he supposed. Girls made boys chocolates on Valentines.

"You're not scared of here, but you're scared of Valentines?" Riku asked. He had a hand on the edge of the tree, ready to jump.

Sora forced himself to laugh. Forced himself to say, "No way," and take the jump. It was a familiar sensation; magic; rippling his clothes, ruffling his hair, over his wings.

Then, they landed.

His heart still raced. The air here was warmer, with the sun pressing through his eyelids; it smelt sweet. He didn't know why he was so nervous. This was a routine job. In, make friends, fight heartless, out.

This world was extremely pink. The path spread out before them, edged on either side with magenta poppies and red roses bursting from their stems.

"We changed forms to blend into Halloween Town, but changed again to blend into here." Riku shook his head. "It is confusing."

Sora made a sound. He was too busy taking Riku's new appearance in. He’d kept the fangs, and curling horns - though they were a dark, shining mauve now. His clothes had shifted; a cravat and collar, though his shirt was still sleeveless. Smart trousers and shining boots. And a tail. He had a long, thin tail with a spade shape at the end. It should not have been attractive.

Riku blinked, his eyes very green in the pink forest. "What?"

His tail twitched, as though it was self-conscious. Not a spade, Sora realised. A heart. It was tinged mauve too.

"Just - you don't look very Valentines-y," he replied, sure his cheeks were burning again. His heart and wings kept fluttering. He still had wings. He hadn't had wings in Christmas Town. He glanced back to see white. They were still small – not big enough to lift him from the ground. Here, they were feathered. He twisted, trying to see them better. Kept twisting, and felt like a dog chasing his tail.

Riku caught his shoulder. Turned him back the right way, and looked him over. Even his cheeks looked pink; that must have been a side effect from the world's magic.

"You do," Riku said. "Look Valentines-y."

Sora glanced down. His own clothes were lightweight, light - draping, like the fashion at the colosseum. He didn't usually feel self-conscious about a different form, but he did now. With Riku.

He tried to play it off. Gave Riku's shoulder a light punch and said, "Watch out, or my arrow’ll go through your heart.”

And Riku laughed - showing those fangs - before following Sora down the path. The rose bushes grew in heart shapes, so did the tree trunks; all cherry blossom of course, scattering pale pink petals down like confetti.

"So, you're an angel," Riku said. His tail twitched behind him, the heart staying upright. "What does that make me?"

Sora stretched an arm above his head. Tried to stay casual. "Some kind of imp?"

"A devil?" And Riku actually looked a little hurt. He pouted around the fangs. "I feel typecast."

They came to an iron gate, entirely made of twisted hearts. Sora stopped, a hand on the swirls, and looked at Riku. "It doesn't matter what you look like, you have a good heart. A good, strong heart."

His hand had risen. It hovered above Riku's chest, to prove his point. They were closer than he realised. Closer than he’d meant them to be.

Riku looked down, eyes searching as though he expected him to be joking. Searching for something. He bit his lip. Didn’t reply.

Sora’s fingers curled into his palm. Slowly, he brought his hand down. Twisted it into the gate behind him, instead. Gripped it so tightly his palm hurt.

Then Riku looked up, sharply. Frowned. “Are those heartless?”

He already had his keyblade summoned. Sora caught his, as he turned, grateful for the interruption, for once. There were dark shapes in the sky, flitting about like huge birds. He ended up hopping onto the gate to see better. One swooped close enough for him to see clearly.

“Those are cherubs,” he replied. Now that the amber sun had caught them in its light, he could make out the baby-like features of their faces. He laughed, releasing his keyblade. “I’m just an oversized chicken.”

And almost squawked like one, when Riku swung the gate open, with him still perched on it. He stepped past, onto the dirt road. His hand grazed Sora’s bare arm, as he did.

“It doesn’t matter what you look like,” Riku chanted. But then turned earnest. “You’ve got a good strong heart.”

Said heart was still racing. Sora hopped down from the gate, and hurried to catch up. Couldn’t help tweaking Riku’s tail as he did. He jumped, with his whole body, turning on him. He looked impish, with that look in his eye, and that smirk on his face.

Sora’s wings fluttered. He grinned back. Only half-heartedly tried to dodge Riku’s hand as he sought payback; he tweaked the covering still over Sora’s eye.

That made him realise it had changed to. A rose. Riku had caused one of the petals to come loose. It fell, almost heart-shaped itself, to the path. Crimson, against the plain dirt.

He tore his gaze away. They had a job to do. Heartless. Fighting. Saving the world. Not messing around. Not thinking about how handsome Riku looked. What the fluttering in him meant.

He needed to shed those thoughts, like petals from a rose.

*

This world felt like sweet torture.

They continued until the road turned to cobblestones, and the found the town proper. It looked like a child’s illustration; chalk white buildings topped with sugar-pink rooftiles, decorated with stained glass, hard-candy windows. Good enough to eat. And there certainly were a lot of things to eat; the highstreets were chocked full of confectionaries and chocolatiers; bakeries and coffee shops. Riku’s stomach grumbled at the pastries, the candy, the chocolate truffles. He noticed the dentists stuck in between like crooked teeth, their windows still full of lollipops.

They wandered, through meadows lined with rainbow tulips and past window boxes of carnations. The smell stayed stuck in Riku’s nose; he constantly had to sneeze here. It was all so very – much. Everyone walked in pairs, wearing flowers or reading poems. All lovestruck like puppies, without a care in the world. The two of them walked in a pair as well, but he couldn’t put an arm around Sora. They could hardly walk hand in hand.

They weren’t like that. Just friends.

And he was grateful they were friends, after everything. That he had been forgiven, and, most of all, they were both still here and whole. Safe. He couldn’t ruin that by turning this into anything more.

But it was so hard, when Sora looked like that. When his hair seemed bouncier and softer; he couldn’t stop staring at the wisps at the nape of his neck; short and fluffy like duckling feathers. Couldn’t look away when the one visible eye stared up at him; blue and shining like light in the darkness. His skin caught the sunlight so that he practically glowed bronze, the white clothes accentuating that all the more. He was, quite literally, an angel.

Which was playing havoc with Riku. It was always like this, now, around Sora, but being here, surrounded by love, made it all the worse.

He’d known for a while. Had confessed to the king in a muddle of, “I care about him – a lot. I thought I hated him. I hated him making friends without me. But that’s not – it was jealousy. And it wasn’t hate. I – I don’t know what it is. It makes my heart hurt.”

Mickey had looked at him, in a way that was part pitying, part amused. “Riku, you love him.”

He’d snapped that wasn’t it at the time. Of course, it was. Of course, Mickey guessed right. Of course, he encouraged him to be honest with his feelings.

He couldn’t be.

It was always Sora and Kairi. They were the love story. And how could he ruin this friendship by adding his feelings into the mix? It was best for everyone to suffer in silence.

Suffering was the word now. They trailed through town, but they didn’t see any heartless. Not a single shadow.

Eventually, they brought giant chocolate eclairs, and sat at the edge of the fountain in town square. It was marble, topped with a cherub statue and pouring pale pink liquid. Riku licked at the chocolate topping on the éclair, and tried not to think about how Sora sat so close that their legs were grazing.

“Do you remember Valentine’s day back home?” Riku’s tongue asked, before his brain could keep up. “I think we were six, or maybe seven, and you gave me handmade chocolates at school?”

Sora swung back, on the fountain, almost dipping into the flow of the water. “Oh, don’t.”

But he didn’t really mean it. Riku smiled. “They were burnt.”

“Riku.”

“But you had this big, beaming smile like you really didn’t care.”

They spoke at the same time, the words overlapping like ill-fitting puzzle pieces:

“Everyone laughed at me.”

“You were my only Valentines.”

They both stopped short, staring at each other in surprise. A sweet-smelling wind picked up, and it took another one of the petals sat over Sora’s eye. It left the rose in a heart-shape. His cheeks were the same red as it. That hurt feeling in Riku’s heart returned in full force, and he couldn’t stand it. That was what love felt like, apparently.

Sora swallowed. He ducked his chin. “Like, ever?”

Their hands both sat on the stone edge of the fountain. Riku looked at them, too. Sora’s gloves were fingerless; his own were tipped with claws. Was there a better metaphor for being unsuited for each other?

Yet, his own twitched closer. “Like, ever.”

“Kairi must have given you chocolates,” Sora murmured.

“Only because she made you some. Because she didn’t want me to be left out,” Riku said. Sora didn’t argue. He took a shaking breath. “You never usually care if people laugh at you.”

“I don’t.” Sora’s finger twitched in response. “Because I’m usually laughing with them. But I wasn’t, then. I was the joke.”

Girls gave boys chocolates on Valentines. Boys didn’t give other boys chocolates. But they’d grown up since then, and learnt they could.

“Not to me.” Riku dared to look up; dared to meet that blue eye. Sora stared back, as though he was – amazing. He couldn’t help it, his gaze twitched down, to his parted mouths. His lips were the same pink colour as the rooftops around them. Spun, pink sugar. With a dollop of cream at the edge, from the éclair.

Riku wasn’t really thinking, his heart was beating too loudly; it had taken control of all of him, and his hand reached up. His thumb wiped away the cream. He was hardly breathing; Sora didn’t seem to be either.

His fingers found Riku’s. Seemed to be entangling in his own, when a voice interrupted: “How very unusual!”

Riku pulled away from Sora. Pulled his hand away. Almost summoned his keyblade – half expecting Organization 13 – before he really took in the character before them. Because she was more like a character, than a real person. A towering lady in a meringue of cream skirts; emblazoned with yet more hearts; her beehive hair added another layer of height, coloured as sweetly pink as the rest of the town.

“Oh, sorry—” Sora was already on his feet. His wings stretched out behind him, feathers trembling. “We’re Jack’s friends. Jack Skellington?”

“Oh yes. Him. He’s quite charming, and he knows my dear Mr Shakespeare well.”

Riku managed to pull enough of himself together to stand, and step forward too. He glanced at Sora, who only lifted his shoulders in a shrug back. He supposed if Santa was in this world, there was no reason Shakespeare couldn’t be alive as well.

“He said you had a heartless problem,” Sora continued. “We’ve come to help!”

He put his fist to his chest, looking every bit a plucky hero. Riku’s heart hurt, again. This newcomer glanced to him with eyes the colour of chocolate. Seemed to know, and his stomach jolted in panic.

“Heartless?” The lady shook her head, and it made said beehive sway alarmingly. “No, we focus on filling hearts here. Filling them with love. Why, I thought you were filling your arrows with potion.”

They exchanged another glance, both as blank as each other.

“Sorry,” Riku said, eventually. “It’s our first time here.”

“That would explain the lack of respect for a queen.” She seemed to raise herself even higher, her dress flouncing around her as if it was preening. “Queen Ruby Valentino, the ruler of this land. I would have thought Jack would have told you that. Though—” She peered at them both. “You don’t look like you come from his domain.”

“We didn’t want to disturb anyone in your town,” Sora said. It wasn’t quite a lie, and perhaps that’s why it came so easily from him. “So, we – disguised ourselves.”

The queen stepped around them, examining them both. Riku felt that stupid tail twitch. It was irritating to have something attached to him, giving him away.

“Magic.” The queen concluded. She tweaked one of Sora’s wings. He jumped in response. Pressed back against Riku. He steadied his shoulder without thinking about it.

“And how interesting that magic would choose this. A cupid and an imp, working together. Love and heartbreak.”

Riku suspected his face was terribly red. Imp. Heartbreak. Typecast.

“We’re friends,” Sora said. Defensively. His arm even came out, a little, as if he was shielding Riku.

“Like I said, interesting.” The queen only smiled, glancing between them. “But love is love, darlings. You don’t need to hide it.”

Riku couldn’t move – couldn’t breathe – could only stare. It was obvious, then. He was obvious. She knew. Did everyone?

Sora was frozen too. Even his wings had stopped fluttering. The wind ruffled his hair, and it took another rose petal with it.

“So there are—” Sora sounded choked. “There are no monsters causing trouble about town?”

“None that I’m aware of.”

“It’s not like that,” Riku said. Had to say. “We’re not—”

“Oh. I see.” But she made it sound like she didn’t. The queen stepped forward. Still smiling, and perhaps that was why neither of them moved. She only patted them both on the head, just once, like they were small children. “Well then, enjoy your stay here, sweethearts.”

Then she was swanning off with all of her ruffles and chiffon. Barking an order about flowers to a man who seemed to appear from nowhere, bowing profusely. It left Sora and Riku stood by the fountain. Not alone. Plenty of couples milled at the edges, but they were all in their own lovesick bubbles. They’d barely noticed the entrance of the queen.

Riku was burning. He stepped away, trying to get his tail under control. Running a hand through his hair and finding those horns. Maleficent, he thought, and knew he’d never be entirely free of her.

Sora ruffled his wings like a duck shaking off feathers. He turned to Riku and smiled, shakily. He put his hands behind his head, like nothing was wrong.

“Looks like we’re not needed, after all.”

They weren’t going to talk about it. That was fine – good – Riku could cope with that. He let go of the horn, but still didn’t feel settled. “Why would Jack send us here, if there was no heartless?”

“He must have gotten it wrong.”

Riku wondered about that. Hoped it was not a case of sending them to the wrong world, because he had no desire to see what was behind the door shaped like a turkey. But Jack Skellington didn’t seem like someone who got things wrong. It felt deliberate.

All he wanted was to stop feeling this fluttery panic, stop feeling this pain in his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek, gently, because of the fangs.

“Well,” Sora said. “As long as we’re here, we might as well explore.”

Riku didn’t have an argument to the contrary.

*

Sora didn’t want to go home. Not yet. Not when he had a purse leaden with munny and they were surrounded by sweet things. Certainly not when going home meant sitting in the Gummi ship, with the queen’s words echoing in their heads. They couldn’t talk about it.

So he chattered loudly and kept buying chocolate. Fluttered around and tried to act as though nothing was wrong. But it wasn’t working. Riku became more and more distracted, fiddling with his hair, biting his lip, looking anywhere but Sora.

It was probably a bad idea to suggest the rowboats. But they were moored on the lake, and Sora had ran out of ideas. So, he caught Riku’s arm and tugged him closer.

“Come on, Riku, you always rowed us to the island.”

Riku dug his heels in. “Sora, we’re wasting time.”

“They expect us to be gone all day.”

“Because you said we would be fighting heartless. They’re out there, in other worlds, and we’re messing around.”

“It’s fun.” Sora dropped Riku’s arm. “You remember fun, don’t you?”

“Don’t do that,” Riku snapped. He looked over Sora’s head, in that infuriating way. As though he couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. “You’ve always gotten to be the careless one. I’m the one who pieced everything together, who—”

It was what Sora couldn’t bear to think about. “I didn’t mean that!”

They shouted it at the same time: “Stop being so stubborn!”

Sora had been focusing so much on the argument – on trying to make Riku look at him – that he hadn’t paid attention to the birds over their heads. Not birds, cupids. Hadn’t noticed the giggles. Hadn’t noticed one notching an arrow. Not until it was flying towards the back of Riku’s head. He didn’t have time to cry out.

It was, mercifully, not sharpened. It bounced off the back of Riku’s head and to the sweet-smelling grass. Rubber.

But it did knock him off balance. He stumbled. Caught hold of Sora for balance, just as an arrow hit Sora’s shoulder. He stepped back, raising a hand to ward them off, and Riku’s weight lurched him over.

He fell, backwards. Hit wood with a great crash that jarred the back of his head. Something heavy landed on top of him. Whatever he’d landed on began to move, sweeping out in the direction of the lake.

The boat. He’d landed on one of the little row boats. He scrambled, trying to sit up properly to grab the oars.

Realised what had fallen on top of him was Riku. Riku, over him, his white hair hanging down, his face flushed red to his pointed ears; hips on top of Sora’s; knees nudging his; hands either side his head.

And Sora’s hands were on his chest. He stared.

Riku blinked. Pulled away, catching himself on the side of the boat. “It’s fine, it’s moored.”

It had been moored. They both sat in time to see that one of the cupids had swooped down. It threw the loop of rope from the side. They had set the boat in motion, and it was getting further and further from the shore.

“The oars,” Riku said. They dove in opposite directions – sending the whole thing swaying – grasping for the oars in their mooring holes. The one on Sora’s side fell through He fumbled, catching it just before it could disappear into the murky water. He threaded it back through, turning with a grin to Riku.

Who looked stricken. His hands were empty. The oar on that side was already gone.

Sora looked back to the shore. The cupids sat on the docks, nudging each other and giggling. They rested their chins on their hands, and watched the two of them.

He shifted, so that he sat properly in the boat, his back against the rim and one hand on the oar. “At least we can go in circles.”

For a moment, he thought Riku was going to punch him. It certainly looked like the thought occurred to him. But then his eyes closed, and he begun to laugh. So widely that it showed his fangs. They glinted in the sunlight.

Riku shifted too, so that he was sat opposite. The boat rocked. Years of rowing back home made it easy to keep their balance, and settle it.

“Or we could swim for it,” Sora said.

Riku raised an eyebrow. He reached a hand over the side, dipping his hand into the water. He held out his clawed fingers afterward, and Sora saw it wasn’t water. It was chocolate.

“I don’t relish the thought.”

“Of course not. Relish is made with pickles,” Sora replied.

Riku flicked the chocolate at him. It landed on his cheek, but he could only laugh. He brought his hand up to wipe it, and paused, the heel of his hand on his cheek. The moment at the fountain. Riku had wiped the cream from his cheek. He’d been so close. His green eyes had made Sora’s heart flutter faster than his wings. Then they had looked down. His eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks, and he did look like a devil, then.

Then, he’d looked like he was about to kiss Sora.

And he’d wanted him to. Was desperate for him to. That would answer his thoughts and feelings; would solve them.

“Riku.” He swallowed. Pulled his hand back down and there was a smear of chocolate on his white glove. “Back there…”

Riku looked away. His chest heaved with a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

They continued drifting, chocolate lapping at the hull of the boat. It wasn’t so dissimilar to being back home. Boats and islands had been their world.

Riku didn’t answer. He stared stubbornly into the distance, his tail flicking back and forth like an angry cat’s.

“We can’t do anything else.” Sora looked back to shore. It would be simple enough for one of the cherubs to fly out and tow them back in with the rope, but they were sat, watching. Like this was fun for them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Riku said. “It wasn’t anything.”

Sora slumped further into the boat, crossing his arms.

“The queen’s just – so used to everybody being in love, that…” Riku waved his hands. They fell, heavily, onto the bottom of the boat.

“I didn’t mean her.” Though he’d been turning those words over and over in his head. Love is love. Love. “I meant, before.”

“You’re not a joke to me,” Riku repeated. His green eyes finally flicked back. Shone, like emeralds.

“Thank you.” And Sora really meant it, because that memory still made him want to curl up like a woodlouse. “But, after that.”

“After that—” Riku’s cheeks burnt red. “I don’t know what you mean, after that.”

It was easier to be frustrated, than dwell on that Valentines day. Sora remembered the sniggers. Remembered sitting on his mom’s lap and crying when he got home because they’d laughed at him. He sat up, properly, kicking his shoe against Riku’s.

“You’re not a very good imp.”

“I’m not an imp at all!” Riku stayed slumped.

“Pretty sure love imps are meant to entice people into falling in love.” Sora knew he was pouting. Knew he was being childish. Only half-knew what the plan was. “But you can’t even kiss me.”

“I can.” Riku did sit up then. So suddenly the boat swayed and they both had to catch the side to keep their balance. “But you – we’re not – we’re friends. Just – friends.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you – and Kairi—”

“No.” Sora didn’t realise that the word had escaped. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late to stop it. It was out. The admission. His twitched the hem of his toga, instead. “I don’t feel this way about Kairi.”

There was a pause. They were nearing the middle of the lake now. The sun was starting to set, tinging everything rose.

Riku shifted, again. They were very close, their legs fitting around each other. “This way?”

Sora looked up, his chin still pressed to his chest. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t even find the word, much less form it. His heart hammered, wings fluttering. He looked to Riku’s mouth, his tongue pressing against his own bottom lip. Back up, to his bewildered eyes, and back down. Struggled to catch his breath, his fingernails digging into the wood underneath them.

Riku seemed to understand, all the same. Of course he did, he was Riku. His hand raised, palm grazing Sora’s cheek. It wasn’t so much leaning closer, when they were already so close, but just tilting his head closer. Close enough to graze their lips together.

It felt like magic. Like when he cast magic. Sora pressed their mouths together, firmly, chasing that feeling. Caught the back of Riku’s neck as he went to pull away. Kept him close, their legs tangled, one hand finding Riku’s chest, leaning into the hand on his cheek. Feeling like he was truly flying.

It made sense. It was Riku. The thoughts and feelings – the puzzle – fit together. Love.

Riku was gentle, when he took Sora’s shoulders. He let himself be tugged away an inch, gasping for breath. He was sure he heard cheering in the distance.

“We’re – is this just because of the town?” Riku whispered.

Sora’s eyes were still closed. It was a great effort to prise them open. “I meant that valentines. You were my valentines.”

Riku’s hands went to his cheeks. Pushed him just far enough to examine his expression. Whatever he saw made his brows unfurrow. Made his eyes soften. Riku tugged Sora back, their lips crashing clumsily. But that was fine. Still felt like magic. He kissed Riku back, fangs catching against his lips. It made his stomach leap.

They kept kissing. It kept feeling wonderful. Until one of Riku’s fangs caught Sora’s bottom lip in earnest, and made it bleed. Riku insisted on no more of that until they were in their own bodies again. Sora pouted. Settled for entwining their hands though, and marvelled at the feel of it. They used to hold hands, when they were very small. Until they’d been told boys didn’t do that. He’d missed it.

“How long?” Sora asked.

Riku shrugged. “At least Castle Oblivion. But I have a feeling it was before.” He made a face. “I feel like even Maleficent guessed.”

Sora couldn’t help cringing. It was one thing to fight an enemy. It was another for them to get involved in their love life.

“I felt so confused,” Sora admitted. “After that valentines. After – everything.”

Riku’s fingers tightened on his. It sent a bolt of warmth through him. He pressed his tongue against the cut Riku’s fangs had made, and smiled to himself. His fluttering heart didn’t feel so terrible anymore. Not when they were both smiling at each other, cheeks warm, eyes shining. They were still drifting, but that was alright. They weren’t expected back, yet. They were floating on a chocolate lake, at sunset. It was like a dream.

Riku sighed, but was still smiling. “If we hadn’t gotten stranded here, I wonder if I’d ever have told you.”

“All according to her majesty’s plan,” a new voice said. A high, squeaky voice, from above them. A cherub. Up close, they really did look like chubby babies. It grinned at them.

Another had picked up the rope from the helm. It took three cherubs to tow them back to shore, where the rest of the flock was. They clapped and waved at the two of them.

Sora really did want to curl up like a woodlouse. He looked at Riku, his stomach twisting.

“They planned this,” Riku replied. Rolled his eyes, and maybe there was something in the air, because Sora found himself chuckling. Their string of clumsy tumbling made sense. The bad luck that had stranded them on a boat with nothing to do but confess to each other. Of course, the queen of Valentine’s Town would set something like that up.

The rest of it fell into place. There weren’t any heartless here. There never was.

“No.” Sora didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They had been so obvious, even the dead had realised it. “Jack planned this.”

Riku groaned, throwing his head back. But his shoulders were shaking with laughter. Sora leant against him. Hid his face, and felt safe. He always felt safe, with Riku, now. Another petal flew from over his eye, catching the wind and somersaulting.

They were towed back into shore. An imp and a cherub. But they weren’t, really. It didn’t matter what they looked like.

What mattered was their hearts.

#kingdom hearts #turnupswrites #kh #soriku #sora/riku #fanfic #fanfiction #soriku fanfiction #this is what i do now #i see kingdom hearts fanart #and i write fics about them

[convexicalcrow]

come back skulk Cub my beloved come back

#hermitcraft #cubfan135 #skulk cub #he’s so Normal about skulk #this has given me so many fic ideas #tho idk if I have time to write them all

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

#fanfiction writer #fanfic #ao3 #ramble #it was a naruto fanfic #a narusasusaku fic #also had another thing #i commented on my fav fic that hasnt been updated for a while #i didnt pressured the author to write #because you dont fucking do that >:( #but #just freaked out and talked about how much i loved their writing and the fic #two days later they updated the fic #and then told me i inspired them to finish the chapter #and that's what you're supposed to do! #interact with the author #the fic! #no need to pressure them into writing! #sometimes just words of love and support is enough! #be nice to your writers! #or im gonna smash some sense into yall

[mrtequilasunset]

Unprovoked

#My private partner. My private partner I do private things with in private. We are very private about it. Privately. #he could have let you make an ass of yourself on your own but he didn't #he wanted to roleplay with your crazy ass #this whole exchange is my favorite tbh #still convinced Annette would overhear this convo and write a 13 yr old girl fic about them #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #plaisance #drama disco elysium #kimharry #harrykim

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

#legend of zelda #loz #twilight princess #loz tp #i'm still reeling that someone sent me an ask about this one.. that they took the time to find my tumblr and tell me they liked it #it really meant a lot; thank you to anyone that stops to leave comments like that. they make me happy #but yeah! here's the usual symbolism ramble: #i thought it'd be cool to have the 'spirits' flowing one way and the cats walking through them the other way #to kinda show the difference in life inhabiting the village in the past and present #link's face is covered because impaz was just waiting for 'the hero' so his clothes are what matters; not his face #and it (hopefully) gives a surreal and intangible sense to 'the hero' she could only hope would actually show up #you can feel free to interpret the glowy blue sheikah as ghosts or just as memories of the past! i couldn't decide either way #the one on the bottom left is oot impa since she's implied to be the village founder. so i guess she would be a ghost actually? #fan art #my art #project stuff #and ahhh the book-- everyone's stuff is so beautiful!! #especially the writing. some of the fics made me really tear up and some were so fun and clever. i really love them #a lot of them captured the sheer burden of the role of the sheikah; all of the time and grief and doubt #i know i always say this stuff about every project but. the people i get to work with in these are truly so skilled every time

[keferon]

……….I HAVE THE CONCEPT

I also might have a desire to ship Rodimus with his ship ahahahah

Okay but just IMAGINE how cool it would be if Lost Light was actually….like….alive and conscious being?? Like those titans eheheheh

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #lost light #mtmte rodimus #rodimus #fuck how do I call them #lostrod #? #yeah that’ll work I guess #I want to read a fic about them #if only there was a person who could write it #looks in a mirror #ah #yeah #my art

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

#what..... is this???? #i haven't really written modern au for them #and i wrote it in about 2 hours so hopefully its like. not terrible #wahoo ! #i luv a little meet cute #meet cute #steddie #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie blurb #ummmm i haven't posted in literal eons ive forgotten all my tags oh well #enjoy ?

[ghostbsuter]

Sometimes.

Just sometimes.

Bruce, tired father of too many children, wished for a small break.

Just a tiny one.

He pinched his nose, cowl covering his head and expression and glared.

"I can't believe you snitched on me!" Billy batson, freshly revealed teen and sitting on his usual spot during meetings, hisses.

"If I have to get parented, so do you!" Danny fenton, also freshly revealed teenager, glared right back.

"Boys." Both their attention snapped to wonder woman, still tense and warry.

"Do you two have adult supervision, at least." Batman asks, feeling slightly more drained than before, he can feel Nightwing's stare at the back of his head, coming closer.

"Do the voices count?" Danny asks, to which Billy nodded. "Yeah, do they? Zeus has strong opinions, and many kids. He probably can parent, somewhat."

They shrugged both, like they hadn't just opened another whole can of questions.

"Wait!" Danny snapped his fingers, "what about clocky? He sends us on time missions, has his own lair, and lets us hang around. That counts? Right?"

The other teen nods in agreement.

(Knowing both are black haired and blue-eyed teens, he already knows Dick will never let him live this down. Deceived by children, for YEARS.)

(So much for being the greatest detective.)

(The text he sent to Alfred is between him and his butler dad.)

"Or—"

In the end, the two agreed reluctantly to stay around for a while. The Kents, the Allens, Diana, and the Waynes have opened up their homes to house them permanently.

Much their amusement, they declared, that to make no one jealous, they'd switch homes every other week or so.

That alone smelled like chaos.

Whatever, it was Diana's first week.

(And if the house of mysteries appeared in front of them sometimes, that's also between them and a very suffering John constantine.)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

#identity reveal #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #billy batson #billy and danny are gonna love tim “i created a whole ass uncle to avoid gettinf adopted” drake #diana is both amused and raising a brow #wdym zeus is in ur head child #yes twitch chat style baby #billy and danny are brothers in crime and losers in costumes #/affectionate #i love them pleSe #wait till the adults find out about billys very much walking and talking TIGER bestie #or a body shiftin ghost dog #tawky tawny and cujo will make everyone 1000% funnier

[irisbaggins]

In rewatching the season, I'm noticing how clever Aabria and Brennan were in crafting Tula's story. How well thought out everything was.

Specifically, the bear. It's been mentioned so many times before, but with the context of the completed season, I cannot help but be in awe at the skilful storytelling at display here. The way in which the Blue is described to appear wrong only in reference to Tula and her heart, the way in which Tula talks about curiosity and and having experienced knowing someone who died because of it. Of how Aabria describes to Izzy how Tula looks when she heals the bear, of how Aabria specifically points out that Tula recognises the commonalities between herself and the bear. These breadcrumbs that mean little in the beginning, that tell everything at the end. It's amazing, stunning, masterful storytelling. I am in awe.

#text_loke #meta from loke #Burrow's End #Burrow's End Spoilers #Aabria Iyengar #Brennan Lee Mulligan #i am forever in awe tbh #also the way i gasped at several of brennan and aabria's lines this episode #i'll need to pull some quotes from that whenever i get on my computer #and i desperately need to write a fic about everything that happened from Tula's perspective #but that would be AFTER i finally manage to finish the little beast i'm working on about that Last Fight from Tula's pov #'cos BOY i have a feeling i will write a lot. just 600 words on the intro before 'kill them all'. so y'know. a wordy little thing... #anyway. i love burrow's end so much. i cannot stop thinking about it #Dimension 20 Spoilers #D20 Spoilers

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me) #(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk) #this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[maibeloved]

30+ year old coworkers sure are comfortable with each other

#serirei #mp100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #mob psycho 100 #mp100 fanart #mp100 reigen #mp100 serizawa #mp100 tome #they legit have me arounf thier finger wtf #i cant sleep bc of them omg guys guys guYs #legit even writing a fic A FUCKING FIC ABOUT THEM OMFG HELP #I LOVE THEM OKAY LIKE THEY ARE ACTUALLY FUCKING MARRIED

[canisalbus]

hello! i've written a short little machete fic, and i wanted to share it with you as thanks for all the incredible art and generous question-answering you've been doing these last few months. i hope that if you give it a look, you enjoy it. <3 keep up all your amazing work! archiveofourown [.] org / works / 50945128

✦ A Voi ✦

#wake up honey new fic dropped #feeling blessed #eating this out of your hands like a baby deer #it's so good you guys treat my lads so well #and write so beautifully and vividly and eloquently #I rambled about this in length in the fic's comment section so I won't repeat myself too much here #but in this one Machete has a little breakdown and gets lovingly bathed like the sad and stunned dog he is #really captured his neuroticism and endless uneasiness #excellent Vittorio content augh I adore him #I'll definitely come back to this later and draw proper actual fanart because some of the scenes are so thematically and visually strong #I need to be able to see them with my actual eyes #dangit I forgot the cut on his lip #had a minor crisis over the color of Machete's robe but maybe it'd be white like the rest of his sleepwear #as a contrast to the usual blacks and reds #fic A Voi #doomcountry #own art #own characters #Machete #CanisAlbus #blood #I said this before and I say it again #if you read the thing and like it it would be very kind and appreciated if you left a small comment to doomcountry as a thank you #you don't need an ao3 account and you can do it anonymously

[sugarbear2001]

They gossip about everybody and have a daily debrief where they spill all the tea. They also discuss their crushes on Vivi and Sanji and what hot thing they said/did.

#you know im right #usopp #nami #one piece #i would listen to their gossip podcast #gay and lesbian solidarity #sanuso #namivivi #guess i can tag them #need to write a fic about this #headcanon

[ghosthunterbuck]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

#i have returned and i come bearing fic #i straight up don't remember my tagging system so #oh well #911 #911 abc #911fic #buddie #buddiefic #911 spoilers #abbie writes #its a coda friends you know what im about #also i'm gonna revive the tag list tomorrow so sorry in advance to anyone who sees this and then gets a crazy late tag!! #or doesn't want them anymore lol

[xjustakay]

✨ put us on ice by xjustakay ✨

“When you think about it, the rink is kind of like our circus.”

in celebration of finally wrapping up put us on ice, i was very lucky to be able to commission the loveliest @cuckooboo to do this incredible cover art piece!! truly the biggest of thank you's to cuckooboo for doing such an amazing job with this art, and all of my love and appreciation to each of you who have shown so much love to this story! it's been so very, very special to me<33

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanart #jegulus fanfic #GONNA THROW UP #CAN'T SEE THROUGH MY TEARS #OBSESSED DOESN'T EVEN COVER IT #THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER AND THE POSE AND JUST ADJFKADLJFK #THE PHOENIXES BANNERS AND THE 'START A CIRCUS WITH ME?' #IT'S THEMMMM #THEM THEM THEM #i wish i knew how to be normal about them (no i don't i love them so so so much) #my precious precious put us on ice babies #gonna miss them so bad #but this has truly been so damn special #thank you to everyone who's loved them with me #fic: put us on ice #kay’s writing #fanart

[buddie-buddie]

“So,” Buck says, blinking up at Tommy. He still hasn’t gotten over how good that feels– looking up at his partner. Being with someone whose warm, protective hand settles on the small of his back and nearly spans the distance between his hips. Someone whose big, strong arms envelop him when they hug, someone who can tuck Buck into his chest almost effortlessly. Someone who makes him feel grounded, protected, safe. In more ways than one.

“So,” Tommy returns the word, accompanying it with a warm smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle as he looks down at Buck. 

“You met my parents,” Buck says with a laugh, because really– how could he not? It’s a little ridiculous, now that he’s saying it out loud. “On our third date.”

Tommy nods, leaning against the wall outside of Buck’s front door. “Mhmmm,” he hums, watching Buck with a fond smile as he fumbles for his keys. “Sure did.”

It takes a minute, but Buck finally manages to get his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Tommy is nothing but patience and fondness, watching him with a sparkle in his eye that makes Buck feel warm all over. When he finally gets the door open, Buck’s chest swells as Tommy’s big hand comes out to hold the door open for him, nodding for him to head inside first. 

That’s a first. Buck’s stomach flips, a warm, pleasant feeling skating across his skin as he pulls his key from the lock and steps inside. It’s the same feeling he had on their first date when Tommy pulled out his chair before he sat down. The same one he had the first time Tommy texted him Be safe at the start of a shift. 

A smile tugs at his lips as Tommy follows him into his apartment and the door clicks shut behind him. There’s something so simple about it, something so mundane and normal and domestic that it makes Buck’s head spin and his heart pound against his ribcage in the very best way. He wants this again. And again, and again, and again. Wants to come home with Tommy. Come home to Tommy. Wants the door to close behind them, wants to leave the world outside and exist only in this world here, in the one with the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows on Tommy’s face as he toes his shoes off beneath the bike that hangs on Buck’s wall. The one where he pulls two beers out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, and Tommy opens them wordlessly, the silence comfortable as it stretches between them. The one where the necks of their bottles clink and their knuckles brush and Buck’s skin hums and his heart sings from just one small taste of Tommy’s skin against his. 

Buck’s the one to break the easy, comfortable silence. He does it with a small laugh, just shy of a giggle, as he thinks back to the look on his mother’s face when he walked into Chim’s hospital room with Tommy by his side and she connected the dots. “You were covered in soot.”

“Wasn’t the only one,” Tommy points out, grinning against the lip of his beer bottle as he takes another sip.

Buck blushes at the memory of Hen whispering in his ear that he needed to find a mirror, and the moment of horror when he did as much. The horror was fleeting, though, quickly chased away by a swell of pride and a round of hugs and shoulder claps from the people he loves most in the world. He smiles, running his finger over his bottom lip. He has a feeling it’ll be one of those moments he doesn’t ever forget. And something about that makes him really, really happy. 

“I’m glad you were there,” Buck says, meeting Tommy’s eyes and hoping that the look in his own is enough to say all the things he can’t quite figure out how to put into words just yet. If the way Tommy’s eyes shine and the way the hint of a smile dances across his face, he hears him loud and clear. “And, uh,” Buck pauses, clearing his throat. “I hope my parents were alright.”

If he thought he knew horror before, it was nothing compared to the moment he turned away from talking to Christopher, only to see his parents talking to Tommy. 

“They were fine,” Tommy assures him. “They seemed… nice,” he says, almost cautiously. 

Buck shrugs, a little unsure of what to say to that. Yeah, his parents are nice. They traumatized him and Maddie both and they’re responsible for tens of thousands of dollars in therapy bills at this point, but they’re nice people. And they’re trying. And Buck’s learned that all of those things can be true at once. He’s just not quite sure how to put any of that into words without unlocking the Pandora’s box that is his childhood and completely killing the mood. But he doesn’t have to, because Tommy speaks again.

“But there’s a story there,” Tommy says, and it’s more of a declaration than a question. There’s no judgment behind it. He says it simply, easily, as if he’s commenting on the stretch of warm weather they’ve been having. 

And maybe it is just that— maybe it is simple. Maybe he’s so tuned into Buck that he noticed the way Buck’s smile faltered when he noticed they were talking to Tommy. Maybe he picked up on the way Buck stood up a little straighter when he came over and spoke with his parents. Maybe he could feel the way Buck’s skin prickled when his mother spoke— maybe he could feel it from where his hand rested easily on the small of Buck’s back, as if it was always meant to be there. 

But now, one look in Tommy’s eyes— just one glance at the protectiveness that flares against familiar, striking blue— erases any doubts Buck may have had. No maybes. Tommy knows. 

And while he may not know the shades and sizes of the bruises Buck’s parents left behind on his soul and he may not know the things they did– and didn’t do– that put them there, Tommy’s attentive enough to pick up on the fact that they exist. And something about that— something about being seen, being known— makes Buck’s chest ache. 

Buck huffs out a laugh, “Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing down at his feet. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

Tommy hums, taking another sip of his beer before setting it down on the counter with a dull clink. “But you’re okay?” he asks, and it takes everything Buck has not to start sobbing. 

Tommy doesn’t push for more details, doesn’t try for platitudes, doesn’t brush past it. None of the things Buck’s used to. None of the things that, despite best intentions, still manage to feel like salt in a wound that’s been healing for three years but isn’t quite closed up yet. Instead, Tommy knows exactly what to say, exactly what to do. 

He checks on him. 

And he does it so easily, so effortlessly, that Buck’s chest squeezes and he feels a tightness behind his eyes, the kind he feels just before the prickle of hot tears he’s rarely ever able to blink back. Tommy is perfect. He’s kind and he’s good and he’s thoughtful. He’s protective without being overbearing. He’s patient and supportive and so honest, so genuine in everything he does. He’s gorgeous and he’s smart and he’s so ridiculously charming, it’s almost infuriating. He makes Buck feel safe and good and wanted. And he can pull off royal blue polyester better than anyone Buck’s ever seen. He’s just…. he’s perfect. 

So much so that Buck is overcome with it, and instead of the affirmative yeah that plays in his head, what he blurts out instead is, “I really, really like you.” 

The words tumble from his lips before he can stop them, rolling off his tongue effortlessly. His hand moves on instinct in an attempt to fly to his mouth, but Tommy intercepts. His fingers curl around Buck’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks with a gentle hold and an amused smile. 

“You better not take that back, Buckley.”

Buck’s cheeks are on fire, his words caught in the back of his throat. “Uh, I—” 

“You better not take that back,” Tommy repeats. “Because I’m not taking mine back.” He lets Buck’s wrist go, and Buck mourns the loss of the warm, grounding feel of Tommy’s skin against his. But only for a moment, because then Tommy is moving forward, stepping around the corner of the island and closing the distance between them effortlessly with one smooth step. He takes Buck’s face in his hands, his fingers splaying out across stubbled skin and fanning the sparks beneath Buck’s skin into an all-out inferno. 

“I really, really like you too, Evan.” 

“You-you do?” Buck is too focused on the way Tommy looks at him— at the fondness in his eyes and the way his lips quirk up into a small, amused smile— to be embarrassed by the way he all but squeaks out his response. 

“Of course I do,” Tommy says, grinning in earnest now. “And,” he murmurs, tipping Buck’s chin up with two fingers, the same way he did the first time they kissed. The thought of it alone has Buck’s stomach doing somersaults. “I think you,” Tommy drops a quick, closed-mouth kiss to Buck’s lips. It’s small and it’s quick and it’s chaste and yet, it still lights Buck up from the inside out, still has his breath catching in his throat and his chest swelling with something that feels warm and safe and good.  

“Are,” Tommy continues, letting his thumb skate over Buck’s bottom lip with what can only be described as reverence. He kisses him again, still quick and still chaste and still more than enough to leave Buck’s heart pounding, his breath hitching, everything inside of him yearning for more, more, more. “Adorable.” Tommy punctuates the word with a third kiss, this one deeper than the previous two. 

Buck relaxes beneath his touch almost instantly, melting into Tommy’s hold. It’s far from their first kiss, and yet, Buck still feels butterflies kicking to life in his gut when Tommy touches him, their wings flapping so furiously it sends a flush crawling up his neck and settling on the apples of his cheeks. 

Tommy so much as looks in his direction and excitement flares in Buck’s gut. Warmth curls around his chest and beats out of his heart, swelling behind his ribs and making each breath come easier. He feels seen and safe and whole in a way he doesn’t think he ever really had. It’s a little dizzying, knowing that Tommy wants him— that Tommy likes him— just as much as Buck does him. 

But all of that is nothing compared to when Tommy kisses him. When Tommy kisses him, Buck feels absolutely giddy. He feels like he did the summer he turned thirteen and Lydia Harris kissed him on the cheek at the Fourth of July fireworks. He feels like his cheeks might go numb from smiling so much, like he might drown in the happiness that’s flooding his veins and thrumming beneath his skin. 

It doesn’t help that Tommy kisses him like he’s drowning and Buck’s the first breath of fresh air, that he kisses Buck like he’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever needed. And nothing has ever made Buck– who has quite literally come back from the dead– feel so alive. 

Tommy tastes like beer and wedding cake and only a little bit like the soot he showered off when Buck brought him back to Harbor to return his gear and get his car. He has Buck’s face in his hands like he’s something worth holding onto, and Buck has never felt more whole than he does right here, right now. He’s bone tired, still hungover, standing here in his socks and a hoodie that’s been all over LA, and when Tommy pulls back long enough that they can catch their breath, he looks at Buck like he just hung the moon and all the stars. He holds him like he’s precious, like he’s something sacred.

It’s Buck who closes the distance this time, sighing into the kiss and melting into Tommy’s touch. His hand skates up Tommy’s side and settles on his neck, in the same place where it did just a couple of hours earlier in the hospital lobby. Heat zips up his spine as he the memory washes over him, and if the way Tommy’s lips curl into a smile beneath his is any indication, Tommy’s reliving it too. 

When they part, it’s only long enough to draw in a ragged breath and for Tommy to murmur, “I’m happy I could be there today,” into the space between their lips. 

“Me too,” Buck breathes, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m always happy when you’re around.”

Tommy grins, and if Buck's not mistaken, there’s a flush creeping its way onto Tommy’s cheeks. Tommy’s blushing and it has absolutely no business being half as cute as it is. “Then maybe I need to be around more often.” 

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. He’s helpless to keep the smile off his face, but he doesn’t try. He’s happy. Maybe more than he’s ever been. And it feels good. Happiness feels good. Being with Tommy feels good. Buck feels good. And he doesn’t want to ever stop. “Maybe you do.”

read on ao3 here

#my writing #7x06 coda #911 spoilers #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley #bucktommy fic #listen #i would like five (5) minutes in the writer's room #just long enough that i can push my hunky 6ft tall barbies together and yell “KISS!" #and then make them talk about it and hold each other like they're precious little things #and then i will be gone like a thief in the night i promise #ryan and tim pls consider tysm