A Fleet of Ships

Fanders blog: romanyouremyhero Main: doctorshufflepuff

[tpwrtrmnky]

Associating reactionary politics with mental illness is such a complete lose-lose-lose strategy

Congratulations you've managed to stigmatize mental illness even further in one direction, shielded reactionary politics from legitimate criticism in the other direction, and obfuscated serious discussions of how reactionary communities prey on vulnerable people more generally.

It's like a double-edged sword that you're also holding by the blade end with your bare hands

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

Said it a year ago and I’ll say it again.

Pirate all your favorite shows, movies and games while you still have the chance.

Oh, and never stop supporting physical media.

[midnightnautilus]

whistles

trips

Oh no!! I just tripped Over this rock in The Garden! They really need to put up some kind of Wall… and I dropped my Link all over the ground…

I really need To Watch where I’m going, geez…

[wizardsexmachine]

POPEYE?!?!??

[wizardsexmachine]

[memecucker]

[oops-all-birbs]

Let's not forget this gem

[sch-uwu-lchen]

wake up babe new gender just dropped (amphibious)

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

so that's why nonbinary people keep posting about frogs

[llatimeria]

ive also come to the conclusion that "laziness" is probably the stupidest, most hurtful, least useful, deliberately cruel concept in the world

[llatimeria]

I don't think I've ever seen anyone benefit from being called lazy but I've seen hundreds of people destroying their bodies and minds trying to avoid being called lazy because at some point someone decided that if someone wasn't miserable then that means they're a bad person

[a-krogan-skald-and-bearsark]

That bastard Calvin has a lot to answer for.

The Scottish Protestant leader, I mean. Not that kid with the Tiger.

[interruptedbyfluff]

Ready, set, glow

Genre: <i>Fluff</i>

Word count: <i>~350</i>

Summary: <i>Maglo has a surprise for Hawke.</i>

Pairings: <i>Hawke/Maglo</i>

Warnings: <i>Food mention</i>

[[READ MORE]]

~*~

Hawke hesitated outside the door fiddling with his collar. He knew he didn't need to accept an award, as Siraye had told him- it was a great lie, but he knew that face. But he trusted her, so he dressed nicely anyway and arrived at the appointed room when requested.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

It was beautiful.

They were soft lights strung around the room, shimmering yellows and oranges and gentle reds. There was a table, with a tablecloth and everything, set with two plates of sweet pork, the scent wafting deliciously across the room. There were candles lit in the center of the table, and a vase of fresh flowers. No, actually, not a vase - they were growing right out of the table.

And right in front of him, fidgeting, looking terribly uncomfortable in a nice, starched shirt, stood Maglo.

Hawke...didn't know what to do with it. It was beautiful, but...was he supposed to check the setup over so someone else could have a lovely date?

"Hi," Hawke said. "What's this about?"

Maglo lit up bright red, and Hawke grinned. Pushing Maglo off balance, now this, this was familiar territory.

"I- well I mean, it's been exactly a month since I- since we- you know what, forget it, it's stupid-"

So it was for him. He hesitated a moment, the word <i>deserve</i> caught in his throat, but he bit it down. He had promised he'd try, and this was Maglo trying, too.

"It's perfect, Maglo. Thank you." And Hawke stepped right up into Maglo's space, took his blushing nerd in his arms, and kissed him.

He could feel the tension bleed out of Maglo, could feel the relief in his smile as he started to kiss back.

A loud, happy squeak rang out.

"And thank you for cooking, Doddle," Hawke said loudly, pulling back just enough to look around for her.

"Hey, I never said that, I totally could have cooked!" Maglo bristled.

Hawke grinned brightly. "You literally did just say that, though."

"Fuck!"

~*~

A/N: cross-posted on AO3. If you know how to format things on mobile, help pls!!

[interruptedbyfluff]

studying recovery

Genre: Hurt/comfort, but mostly the comfort part Word count: ~900 Summary: Patton, Logan, and Roman all help Virgil feel better after a really bad nightmare. Aka, I couldn’t let that last fic hang without fixing it. Warnings: uhh let me know what I need to add, here

~*~

The waves of the nightmare echoed through the mindscape, and Patton, Logan, and Roman quickly assembled ranks, armed with blankets, tea, fidgets, and a mountain of plushies. Perhaps they couldn’t protect their boy from the terrors that haunted his sleep, but they could make sure he didn’t wake up alone.

“Virgil.”

Verge wrinkled his nose at the voice.

“Verge, honey. Wake up.”

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open. He was disoriented for a moment, mm, that was Patton’s voice. Shit! That was Patton! He scrambled backwards. “Don’t get too close. I’ll hurt you again.”

“Okay.” Patton backed off, voice soothing, palms up. “It’s okay, I promise. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you haven’t hurt me. I’m okay. See?” He showed his soft, unblemished hands, and Virgil forced himself to take a breath. And another. Hold it, good.

“Good,” Logan’s voice echoed his thoughts, counting out breaths. Grounding. Verge found a cup of hot chamomile in his hands and cupped it to his chest, letting the steam soothe into his lungs.

Very softly, All Time Low began playing in the background, and when the vocals came in, Verge had something else to focus on; the frustrated, familiar lyrics were oddly comforting -- with little else but memories of you, on memory foam. Roman hovered nearby, standing by the head of the bed but careful not to block Virgil’s view of the door. Verge offered him a tentative smile, but found he couldn’t quite look at him, either. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his knees to his chest, listening to the music, slowly sipping at his tea. Breathing.

Logan was still counting breaths. The nerd didn’t really know when to stop, did he? But that was okay. Because it meant, his nerd was okay. Virgil could hear Logan forcing his voice to hold steady, and he was grateful. He made sure his breaths matched the slow, even pace of Logan’s voice. Logan was okay. Maybe a bit distressed at Virgil’s distress, and Verge felt a tiny bit guilty for that, but he focused on the relief that there was no pain in the sound.

He opened his eyes, just a crack. No one had moved. Roman’s arms overflowed with plushies, but he’d waited for Verge to open his eyes before offering anything more. It warmed Virgil’s heart that he took such care with his boundaries, now. He patted the bed beside him, and Roman let the stuffies tumble, looking a little relieved. Verge snorted lightly at that and grabbed one, two- no, three- and hugged them to his chest. It helped more than he expected.

Verge took another sip of his tea and set the mug on his little tray next to his sketchbook and pens and, shuffling the plushies so he could still clutch them tight, reached for Roman’s hand. Virgil was careful as Roman took it, barely holding, careful not to squeeze in case it hurt. Reassuring himself that Roman was real and solid and whole. Roman offered him a light squeeze, though, and he matched the pressure.

Logan caught his eye and asked, softly, “may I sit?” Verge nodded, and Logan settled cross-legged at the end of the bed. Verge offered him a tiny smile, and, still holding Roman’s hand, found the strength to look up at Patton.

Patton offered him that same tiny smile. Virgil took another look at Logan and at Roman and forced himself to take another breath; if they were alright, Patton must be too. Not quite able to say it out loud, he reached around his plushies and made a small grabby-hand gesture towards him. And Patton sat down, slid up the bed, and took Verge into his arms.

Verge tucked his face into Patton’s chest and let himself cry.

He cried for the pain of the dream and how he’d believed it, even on waking. He cried for his fear, ever present, that his precious ones might be hurt, somehow, that he couldn’t protect them, that he couldn’t help. How heavy that was, all the time. He cried his relief that they were okay.

And Logan was here, thinking of the things that might help him feel better. Roman was here, hand warm in his. And Patton was here, too, holding him close and just, letting him cry. They loved him, too.

It seemed like forever before he cried himself out into Patton’s shirt, but he stayed. Roman kept holding his hand, all the way through, just shifting the once for a better angle. The weight at the end of his bed stayed constant. Finally, though, he pulled back enough to look at Patton’s face. “Thanks,” he said, voice scratchy. He didn’t bother to clear it.

“Of course, kiddo.” Patton squeezed him, gently. “We’re here, whatever you need.”

Verge tucked his smile back into Patton’s tear-soaked top. “Could we just, snuggle for a bit?”

Patton rubbed his back. “I’d love that.”

Tugging at Roman’s hand, he invited the prince to join in, too. Roman tucked himself around Verge’s other side.

At the foot of the bed, Logan cleared his throat.

“You don’t have to snuggle if you don’t want to, Lo.”

“Alright. Would you like me to-” he glanced towards the door.

Verge shook his head, a little too quickly. “Please stay. If you like. I was hoping, you could read us The Hobbit, again.”

Logan lit up at that.

And, curled in against Patton, Roman warm at his back, a fidget in one hand and a plush in the other, Logan’s voice soothing in his ears, Virgil let himself feel better.

~*~

A/N: Pacing? Who’s she?? (seriously guys how do i fix that)

[libraford]

I made a quick icon for queer creators. I know I don’t have all the flags represented, I’ll do more when I get a chance. 

I’ll be putting this on all of my professional websites and printing it out for when I do shows so that everyone can see that I’m a queer creator. People have turned away from a sale before when they realized I was queer, I’ve lost money before over it. I could go back to hiding but honestly- if they aren’t comfortable with my identity, then I don’t want their money. 

[interruptedbyfluff]

Reblogs under cut

cannibalcoalition

I can’t believe I forgot: Yes! Please share and use this for yourselves. Modify it for your own flags if I forget yours. Print it out for yourself, keep a copy in your booth, put it on everything, post it to social media (credit would be nice, but honestly I just want this to be used- I won’t be hurt if it isn’t credited. My only issue is if its being distributed for profit, this isn’t meant to be sold.)

    cannibalcoalition

Also, if you want your own flag represented, here’s an unflagged version:

dorianshavilliard

I hope you don’t mind me adding onto your post, I’ve made some flag edits of your icon

In order are: aromantic flag, agender flag, bigender flag, butch lesbian flag, pan flag, genderqueer flag, genderfluid flag, intersex flag, lesbian flag, nonbinary flag, ply flag

cannibalcoalition

YES THESE ARE GOOD THANK YOU YES

[interruptedbyfluff]

Bubbly

Pairings: platonic Patton/Virgil, very lightly implied Logan/Virgil/Roman, pre-Logan/Patton/Roman Genre: Fluff Word count: ~700 Summary: Thomas has a crush.

~*~

Everyone knows when Thomas has a crush. Roman just won't shut up about it, especially at the beginning. It's schemes of grandiose wooing and fantastic, even literal, flights of fancy to shows in New York followed by moonlit strolls in Paris. Virgil gets nervous and edgy and grumpy. Logan often gets ignored completely, even when he's offering perfectly sound advice of how to look appealing but slightly aloof.

But. Even with the whirling and the clamor and the singing that echoes from every direction, Logan can't bring himself to mind as much as he should, because Patton radiates joy.

The dad grins so wide Logan has to wonder how that much excitement fits within the confines of his face every time Thomas gets a text from the object of his affection. He giggles to himself when he asks Logan to replay that thirty-second interaction for the thirtieth time, and Logan can't help but smile just a little and agree. Without realizing it, Patton literally brightens the mindscape, letting in the sun, making it easier to read textbooks and write schedules and to see the joy-wrinkles gathering around the corners of Patton's eyes.

Logan absolutely does not know what that feels like, and if his gaze lingers on Patton's happiness a moment too long, well, no one can prove anything.

***

Roman knows it's probably his fault. But who could blame him? This boy is just too darn cute! He's smiley, and intensely loving, and just clumsy enough to be endearing, and oh Roman can see it going places. The man of Thomas’s dreams sweeps him off his feet, right down the aisle, with all the perfect traits to be an amazing…

Dad.

Ah. Well, that explains it.

Roman glances up to watch Patton talking with Virgil, hands flying, eyes sparkling. He doesn't know what the two of them are talking about, but he doesn't need to. He sees the love in Patton’s every gesture. He sees the way Virgil responds, melting like the snow, petals opening slowly to Patton’s warmth. Patton’s far too giggly for them to be talking about anything but Thomas’s crush, and for once, Roman is left speechless.

The shape of his smile, the tilt of his head as he laughs, the light in his eyes - suddenly, his image of a moonlit stroll features someone other than Thomas and his crush. Suddenly it’s Patton, clinging to Roman’s hand, pulling him down the path to pet a dog that has somehow found its way into the daydream. It’s messy ice cream cones on a hot day, in between the fastest spinning rides at Disney World. It’s excited and soft and sweet and so much less glamorous than Roman had pictured before, but so much more, somehow.

Oh, he has it bad.

***

Curled up on the couch with a movie on, Virgil mumbles something into Patton’s shoulder.

“What was that, kiddo?”

Virgil sighs, unsnuggling just enough to be a little more articulate. “I wanted to say thanks. Y’know. For covering for me.”

“Of course!” Patton squeezes his arm a little tighter around Verge’s shoulders. “Whatever makes you more comfortable. And hey, I love holding your giddiness for you. It’s fun!”

Despite himself, a little smile creeps onto Verge’s face. “It is fun, isn’t it? All light and, I don’t know, bubbly and sh*t.”

“Language!”

“Sorry Dad,” Virgil laughs. “It’s just, can you imagine telling the other sides that I’m at the core of crush-giggles? Like, I’m not the giggles guy. That’s you.”

Patton beams at him. “That means a lot to me, kiddo.” His smile is warm, his eyes soft. “But I bet it would go over better than you realize. When Thomas starts crushing, everyone around here goes a little sideways.”

That pulls a sharp snort from Virgil. “Ya think? They’ve even more moronic than usual, totally over the moon- wait. You know?”

“Of course I do,” Patton grins. “They’re not exactly subtle, even when they’re not hyped up on crush euphoria. I’m just waiting to see who cracks first and says something.”

“You know, you’re more manipulative than I gave you credit for.”

“Thanks!”

~*~

A/N: Woah this is rough. Criticism please! It somehow went sideways from how I wanted it to feel so if you can help me words better / figure out how to say what I mean I would love it.

[interruptedbyfluff]

Flash Fluff

Genre: Fluff Pairings (in order): Karkat/Dave, Logan/Virgil, Eretria/Amberle, River/KayLee, Harry/Draco Word count: ~340 Summary: five moments of five different couples being gay and in love

~*~

He's all limbs, skinny and bony and pointy where you try to snuggle him. He nuzzles into you though, sleepy and mumbling lyrics or nonsense or both into your chest, movements soft in a way his body isn't. In a way you hadn't known to expect. And you forgive him his elbows because you love his warmth.

***

He is very warm. You thought he'd be cold, he never takes off that hoodie, but you find yourself pressed against a veritable heater -- the blankets lay at the end of the bed, tangled around his feet, and you slide closer. His nose wrinkles as his bangs tickle it, and you brush the stray hair from his face. He smiles, and your heart squeezes in a way you're not sure it should.

***

Your heart pulses in your throat and you know, you know that's dangerous, but she's looking at you with mischief in her eye and a quirk to her grin that by all rights should be yours. So you take it, you growl just a little and kiss that smirk off her face. She laughs.

***

Her laughter echoes through the room. It glows against the whirring rumble, picking out tuneless harmonies that sound like light and engine grease and summer. Sometimes she gets scared, of course she does, but she tucks it up behind a smile. You love her for trying. But other times, you find the real smile, the one that blooms behind her eyes. And oh, you swear you can fly.

***

You’re flying. The wind is whipping through your hair and the sun is in your eyes and he’s there, he’s right there, and your veins are thrumming with exhilaration. You put on a burst of speed, leaning low over your broom, pushing faster, faster. You bump him aside and thrill when he catches your eye, challenge and joy shining in his gaze, a hint of softness beneath. You grin. He bumps you back. You’re neck and neck, and you swear you’ll beat him this time. You both reach forward at the same time, and when your hands brush, there’s lightning in it.

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Starwhale

Genre: Mostly angst Words: 450 Warnings: suicide, depression, minor character death, brief gore Summary: I was thinking about how sometimes, pain can make you kind, and this character who has no name yet decided she had a tough backstory.

~*~

“It's not fair!”

“Life's not fair.”

She grins to herself at that. No, it’s not. She'd thought that way once herself.

She'd gotten into trouble, her teen pride and idle wit pushing her farther and farther past what she knew was reasonable, knew was right. He'd helped bring her back.

It wasn't romantic or anything - hell, she still doesn't know if she's even capable of anything like that. They'd even tried to do it once, because sex is nice, but it was just too weird. But he'd cared. He'd pushed through that wall of sarcasm, slowly, wearing down her defenses until she knew - or thought, anyway - that he wasn't going anywhere. That he'd stick by her, regardless of the shit she pulled.

She'd fought so damn hard to save him.

She’d almost made it, too.

She’d pulled him back, gotten him out, nearly ripped herself to shreds but she did it. She made it, and so did he, through the fire and the brimstone and fuck knows what else.

It had hurt him, though, hurt him badly. She'd had to remove his memory of it, of all of it, to let him go on to live his life while she kept a quiet watch on those who would drag him back down. She could handle it, she'd been sure.

She’d found him the next morning, gun in hand and brains smeared across the wall.

She’d...vanished, after that. Sometimes she hunted down people who deserved it and ripped their insides out. Sometimes she tucked herself up and away and wrote, wrote, wrote as the words burned through her. Sometimes she slipped through the cracks where they'd never find her and just let it all go numb.

But then she'd meet them, the kid with the too-large sweater and the too-thin fingers, and she'd listened. Asked questions. Found out they liked flowers and pink and bones. If no one else would listen, then what the hell, she'd do it. She'd make damn sure that this kid had somewhere to glow because she'd had enough of letting the pain win. She'd hurt enough that they shouldn't need to.

And now, somehow, she’s here. Books lining the walls, photos she can't look at but can't get rid of either laying flat against the windowsill, students arguing in her office chairs.

And she sits back and laughs to herself because these kids who think they know the world want to scream to the heavens about how it's just not fair. And they're right. All you can do is help someone else take the breaths you can't. You make it fair, or at least, you make it kind, and you laugh at fate’s tricks when you can.

[interruptedbyfluff]

Presence

Pairing: None Genre: Fluff Words: ~325 Warnings: None I think?  Summary: Back before they knew each others’ real names, gifts appeared in the Sides’ realms.

~*~

The classic doorbell tone alerted Logic to a visitor to his university office. His students were not of the sort to “ding-dong ditch,” as it was apparently termed, but when no one entered at his response, he sighed and went to the door. Outside was an neatly-wrapped gift addressed to him.

Anxiety’s soft blue light popped on, letting him know someone had actually come to visit his dark little corner of the world. But when the heavy gates finally creaked open, they had already left...left something behind, a package in wrapping paper and bows, apparently for him.

The sound of the singing knocker reverberated throughout the Prince's large, lovely castle. No one was at the door, but on the doorstep was a beautifully wrapped present with nothing but his name on the tag.

***

Princey ripped straight into the paper, excited. Immediately, he donned his new unicorn onesie right over his clothes, tossing the trash without giving the tag a second thought.

Anxiety took his gift inside and flopped onto his pile of plushies before opening his. He looked it over, suspicious, and was the first to notice the heart on the back of the tag. He also saw his black Toothless onesie was handmade and amazingly comfortable.

Logic, however, was the one who figured out what the little heart on the gift tag actually meant, cracking a small smile as he peered into the box at the onesie tucked inside. He tried to set it aside - there was much research yet to be done - but quickly gave into temptation and finished the rest of his work dressed as a dark blue cat.

Morality snuggled into his puppy onesie, leaned his armchair back, and grinned to himself. Even if he couldn't go visit the others - not yet, anyway - he could send them gifts to show his love. He came up with the idea right after the Valentine's video, and he thought he deserved a Patton the back for it!

[interruptedbyfluff]

Hadn't looked at your blog in a bit, and so i check the bookmark, and there at the very top is a absolute gift! There is "What I Like About You" - the most gorgeous Logince story I've read!! Wow! How do you fit so much into these short stories? How did you write so beautifully?

That's so sweet of you oh my heck. I'm all smiley, you have my blog bookmarked? Thank you friend!

I really wanted to play around with a relationship that wasn't perfect, that was still growing into itself but still intense and beautiful, and Logince works so well for that.

As for my writing style, um, I've read a Lot of fluffy fic. Probably an unhealthy amount. It gave me a kind of subconscious database to draw from? I still have trouble picking apart why some things work and others don't, but going from feelings to words is getting somewhat easier and more intuitive.

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What I Like About You

Pairing: Logan/Roman Genre: Fluff Word Count: ~450 Warnings: None? Let me know if I’m wrong though Summary: Logan thinks about his relationship with Roman.

A/N: This is dedicated to the anon from this ask. Thank you for your comments, it’s been a while since I’ve actually wanted to write.

~*~

Roman is...loud. Passionate.

Extra.

He bursts into Logan's room at the oddest of hours, shouting with excitement about his flawless rendering of half a second of time for the next video but no idea where it would fit into the plotline. He spent an entire week refusing to answer to anything but "Your Royal Highness," despite the fact that after the initial salutation, the correct form of address becomes "Sir" followed by the name. He scatters Logan's plans everywhere both literally and figuratively - even as Roman pulls the plot off track, he sends Logan's notes fluttering around the room.

And Logan loves him so very much.

As irritating as the prince is, he's learning. He's getting better at knocking on the door before slamming it open, getting better at listening. Logan's growing too, learning to tell the difference between when Roman is yelling for the sake of it and when he needs to feel heard. They're not perfect, of course, but they're setting boundaries and finding their balance with each other.

Because Roman also writes him poems. Gorgeous things that sound like music, rhythm and meaning and structure intertwined to make metaphors Logan doesn't quite understand but somehow loves. Roman takes his hand and pulls him up, up, through the atmosphere and beyond, to where they can float and watch as stars die and go supernova. Logan explains how complex and incredible it is, and Roman shows him that it is also beautiful.

Roman's eyes don't sparkle - there is no inexplicable light source suddenly present to provide extra reflection - but they do widen and crinkle simultaneously in a way that simply means joy. It's become an experiment to see how often and with how much intensity Logan can bring that smile into Roman's eyes, through gifts of varying size and song recommendations and suggestions for a whole new perspective into his latest story. Roman seems to be catching on, turning it into a competition, because Logan finds himself happier than he ever remembers being when Roman reveals a deft twist in his chess strategy and pulls the win, when he delivers a bouquet with a message hidden in the choice of blooms that leads to a scavenger hunt through Thomas's memories, when he takes them for a candlelit dinner in a bubble on a coral reef so they could see all the marine life. Logan allows it. He's noticed that letting Roman romance him brings a different kind of happiness to the prince's eyes, softer, somehow. Which definitely counts as points to Logan.

Logan puts up with the annoyances, puts in the time to define his needs and figure out Roman's, because they make each other better. Happier.

Because Roman loves him, too.

[interruptedbyfluff]

Just found your blog & WOW you're an incredible writer! The way you write the Sides, they are so expressive & lovely. I especially enjoy how you allow them to appreciate not just the glamorous or obvious qualities in each other, but the ordinary, unkempt, messy, private, everyday things (without which love is too idealized). Thanks for sharing your brilliant work!

Thank you so much! I'd kind of moved away from writing as the school semester got intense, but comments like this make me want to come back? (Seriously I'm smiling way too hard. I appreciate you, Anon.) And I'm so glad you like that the Sides like the messy details of each other, it feels more...3d, I guess.

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Heartache

Pairing: None Genre: Angst Word count: ~300 Warnings: Blood Summary: This started off as generic Patton pain, but went on to expand on “Exploring Nostalgia” and what the heck was up with his room.

They laughed at him. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

But that was okay.

Patton looks down at the red splatter in the sink. Wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Rinses it all down the drain, splashes it clean.

At least they can keep laughing.

***

Patton didn't know why this was happening, or how it worked, but that wasn't really his strong suit anyway. It was his job to feel, and oh, did it hurt.

He had another job though. He was Dad, he has to do what was right, keep them safe, not let Thomas get hurt. Usually that fell to Virgil, but Virgil couldn't help here. And a good parent can't stand to watch their loved ones hurting. Not if they can help it. So, of course, he smiled.

They weren't supposed to be here. He'd tried to warn them. Why couldn't they just listen to him, for once?

Even if it was worrisome, he could at least make it less dangerous. He took a breath and focused (internally - on the outside he was cheerful as ever) on the room’s...less...healthy aspects. He Repressed, hard. Sure, Thomas might get stuck here for a bit, obsessing and reminiscing. Virgil didn't look so good either, and now Logan was gone altogether. But it was the only thing he could think of. At least this way, they were a little safer.

At least this way, only Patton had to feel the wrenching and shattering of heartache that his room might try to impart right now.

He grinned his way through the end card, and the moment the camera turned off, excused himself to the bathroom to throw up all the blood he'd been holding in.

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Hidden

Genre: Angst Word count: ~120 Warnings: none, I think? Summary: Two guys love each other a lot, but something is starting to slip.

You love him. You really do. He’s just so fragile and lovely and how could you possibly hurt him? So you don’t. You don’t tell him, don’t show him when you start to get tired. Keep pushing the smile. Because he would be sad, wouldn’t he?

You hope he hasn’t noticed how tired you get around him, recently. You hope he never will.

***

You know. Of course you know. You see the heaviness in his eyes, and you hear the strain behind the laugh. You wonder why he won’t let you help him. Why he doesn’t trust you. So you hide how much it hurts to see it.

You wonder whether he hasn’t noticed or just doesn’t want to.

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Sparkle

Genre: Fluff Word count: ~250 Warnings: none, I think? Summary: It’s midnight and I needed to write some wlw mermaids apparently XD

The cavern glows. It shimmers and shines in the gleam of the bioluminescent mushrooms, lighting the gemstones woven into the walls blue with something eerie and fae and altogether gorgeous. Something magical.

It all pales next to her.

She flicks her tail and swims upwards, walking her fingers along a seam of gems threaded through the ceiling, grinning all bright and golden. Words tumble from her, alight and alive with excitement, long ones about the names of the minerals and the formation of crystalline structures that flow right over your head but you’re smiling anyway. She tips her head back and beams at you, upside-down, and you are so very lost.

***

You know your excitement is getting the better of you, that she has no idea what you’re talking about, but it’s just so cool! That phenomena like this not only exist, but you get to see it? Touch it? ...lick it? You definitely need to lick it. Already laughing at the response you know is coming, you lean forward and taste the rock in front of you.

She groans, and you laugh even harder.

You look back to stick your tongue out at her. She’s just as exasperated as you knew she would be, and it’s hilarious, but it’s also surprisingly soft. Is she…? Oh gosh she is. She’s blushing and it’s the cutest thing you have ever. Seen.

You can’t help but swim right back to her and kiss her, Spider-man style, surrounded by crystals and luminescence and the sparkles in her eyes.