#lizardkingeliot

[the-semicolonoscopy]

My earrings from @lizardkingeliot are excellent! I love them so much. (The smaller pair? Dinosaur coprolites. Yessssss.)

[tothevines]

☀️ 21 days of fic-mas (in August) - day 1 ☀️

a place for you to love me (chapter one) - peacefrog / @lizardkingeliot​

word count: 15,099 ● rating: explicit ● series: time cast a spell on you

I am a HUGE fan of everything in Holly’s time cast a spell on you ‘verse, and chapter one of this new fic is no exception. (There are only a few allusions to past events, though, so you can dive into this one without having read the other parts first. But I definitely recommend reading them.) This chapter features a stupidly-in-love Brakebills Queliot setting out to their first Encanto Oculto together (with mild Quentin anxiety/angst). It’s incredibly hot, period. But it also has some very sweet, soft moments; glorious Quentin and Julia bestie content; and Quentin Coldwater in booty shorts. I will definitely be coming back to this one for a comfort read 🥰

[kythwena]

Eliot was still the secret Quentin was keeping tucked under his heart.

time cast a spell on you (but you won't forget me) by peacefrog @lizardkingeliot Part 1 of time cast a spell on you series

[fishfingersandscarves]

WIP Whenever

tagged by @lizardkingeliot thank you for enabling my need to overshare

tagging @portraitofemmy @ofshadowsandstars and @queliotpasta

this excerpt is a section from court of strangers which is my book/tv crossover fic that is largely getting out of hand (my youth, our youth ch7 is in progress but i’m saving that chap to post in full ^^ )

Quentin felt himself gathered into a strong-armed embrace. 

“Where have you been!” A familiar voice laughed. “You ridiculous, ridiculous man. I was starting to think you were dead.” 

Quentin shuddered. 

It made no sense that Eliot was so glad to see him. The tension between them the past few days had been…charged, to say the least. After the throne room, Quentin felt like a kicked dog. Eliot had pulled away. They spoke, but nothing of substance. They didn’t talk about how Margo had saved them, and what that meant. They didn’t talk about the Mosaic, not about Arielle, never about Teddy. Quentin’s heart had been torn in two that day twice over. Remembering had been like waking from a long hazy dream to stark reality. He had twice-fold memories; of aches and pains and magic and loss and life. So, so much life lived. He couldn’t stand it. He was bursting with knowledge, he felt like a book begging to be read, consumed. But Eliot had snapped him shut and tucked him away on the shelf. He had to accept it. There was nothing else he could do.

[xoxoemynn]

So potentially unpopular opinion, but I’m generally not a huge fan of the soulmate trope. I just find it so much more powerful that a couple actively chooses to be with each other, rather than being together because fate or destiny or some other higher power deemed it so.

But then I was looking at this beautiful post with the classic Emily Brontë quote, “whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same,” and it hit me: one of the (admittedly many) reasons I find the love between Aziraphale and Crowley so powerful is because it is both.

They are both angels -- Crowley may have officially “fallen,” but we see Aziraphale not exactly being an obedient ethereal being either. They are immortal beings, of the same origin, already among a select group. But even more than that, as time goes on, their souls become even more entwined. They embrace humanity. They love being on earth -- books and Bentleys and pastries and plants. They are the only two beings cut from the same cloth who understand this dichotomy, the balance of being immortal but living and loving among the mortals. Thousands upon thousands of years of their souls, already started as one by the heavenly creator, becoming more and more influenced by their time on earth, and by their time with each other, angel and demon. They are the only two beings to ever understand what it is to be of one world and live among the other, and likely the only two who ever will.  They were born from the same heavenly clay, and molded into separate but complementary forms, the kind that can only be created from once being one.

But then beyond that, each and every day, they still choose to be with each other. Each day they speak, each day they see to their “arrangement,” each day they rescue each other from peril, each day they perform their own little miracles in aid of the other, they are RISKING THEIR VERY BEING. Despite their similarities, their undeniable status of soulmates, it would be wiser and safer for them to be apart. But they CONTINUE TO CHOOSE TO BE TOGETHER. TO FIGHT SIDE BY SIDE. TO PROTECT EACH OTHER. TO OFFER SUPPORT AND ASSISTANCE AND COMFORT AND FORGIVENESS, AND, EVEN IF THEY MAY NOT ADMIT IT ALOUD, LOVE. 

Imagine that kind of love. A kind of love that is born in the stars, so powerful that we mere humans can’t even comprehend, but nourished on the earth through conscious actions of MORE THAN 6,000 YEARS. 

THAT IS THEIR LOVE. 

No wonder we are all so overwhelmed.

[nellie-elizabeth]

only one bed for the title meme pls :)

Okay so this one has virtually nothing written for it, but basically I had this idea of doing a series of related one-shots with different genres on the “only one bed” twist, so you’d have some PWP, fluff, angst, h/c, UST, comedy, etc. depending on which genre or scenario I was tackling.

The doc right now is basically just a brief sketch of all the different possibilities. A couple I really like:

1) Q and El are thrown into the Fillorian dungeons together for? reasons? There’s been a successful coup or something? And it’s freezing and they’ve been pining/angsting for months because Fen and Eliot are married and they can’t be together but they must cuddle for warmth on the one tiny cot in their dark cold cell... lots of Feels.

2) A comedy one where due to shenanigans at the physical kids’ cottage, there’s a fire or some kind of magical accident (maybe caused by Todd?) which means everyone has to temporarily move out, and in order to fit them all into other available housing, everyone has to bunk up... this one could be Queliot or Marqueliot, they’re forced to share a bed and find out they like that idea quite a bit...

3) Trapped in a room together! Like, maybe Julia and Margo are sick of their shit so they lock them up together until they admit their feelings (a la the end of HMGFanfic’s Something Good) or maybe it’s a more sinister trap where they have to admit their “darkest secrets” or something because a bad guy is trying to get them to turn on each other, but joke’s on them, they both spill their guts about all sorts of traumatic and horrifying stuff and it doesn’t work, like in Eliot’s Happy Place, and finally they confess their LURVE and they are thus freed. But they’re trapped for days trying to figure it out and wouldn’t you know, there’s only one bed in this magical cage room. :)

4) First time with Arielle at the mosaic, a huge storm comes in and Arielle is trapped there until it passes, and the three of them have to sleep in the tiny cottage together, the boys try to be chivalrous and give her the bed but she’s like we can cuddle, it’ll be fine, and then SEX OCCURS.

I have a lot of these, some of them even less well thought-out than what I just rambled about above, but I just love the idea of twisting this most precious of fanfic cliches into a bunch of different small stories!

[shellygurumi]

Hands...

Eliot’s hands were always touching Q, and Q never minded. Even when they hadn’t yet gotten the memories of 50 years together. Eliot was always so handsy, but it was never uncomfortable. It wasn’t unwanted. It wasn’t ever inappropriate.

Sometimes it was a pat on the head, sometimes a touch on the shoulder, or a fingers casually dragged across his back in passing. Sometimes they hugged, so tightly. Sometimes they leaned against each other on the couch. 

It was always so comfortable and comforting. Q appreciate all the touches, because sometimes he wanted to be touched but didn’t know how to ask someone for it. Eliot didn’t seem to have that problem, not when he asked for a hug before Q had to leave him in Fillory that first time, when he became High King.

That was something Q loved about Eliot, how easy he was with love and affection, whether for friends or lovers. Eliot was just so open. He couldn’t count the number of times he had seen Eliot and Margo kiss, even though there wasn’t really anything sexual between them. Eliot gave Q a lot of casual kisses, too... though Q didn’t mind there being something sexual between them. Not one bit.

Sitting on the couch beside Eliot now, he studied the other man. There was a casual grace about him, which struck Q as very princely. Eliot was lounging against the corner of the couch, one arm draped over the couch arm, one leg propped up on the coffee table in front of them. The hand closest to Q was resting on his thigh, and Q eyed that hand.

Long, thin fingers. Perfectly practiced at casting spells, forming poppets, and casting a spell of an entirely different sort on anyone they touched. Deft fingers that could elicit so many feelings by such simple touches. 

After pulling in a deep breath, Q made a decision. He reached out and slipped his hand over, atop Eliot’s hand. Palm flat against the back of El’s hand, fingers lacing between fingers. 

Eliot turned his head, looking at Q with a question and surprise. He said nothing, though, just watched and waited, curious to see where this would go.

Q couldn’t quite look at Eliot and felt his heart skip a beat briefly. He pulled Eliot’s hand closer, turned it over and brought his other hand over to trace finger tips over Eliot’s palm. Q had a feeling of satisfaction as he heard Eliot suck in a quiet breath.

Fingers traced up and back down Eliot’s palm, then down to the inside of his wrist. Eliot bit his lip. 

Q brought Eliot’s hand up to his lips, kissed his palm, kissed his wrist, turned the hand over and kissed his knuckles, then the back of his hand. He held that hand between both of his own, solid and sure, then curled Eliot’s fingers and pressed them to his cheek.

Eliot just let it all happen up until the moment when his hand was brought to Q’s cheek. Then he brushed that scruffy cheek, unfurled his fingers, and pressed a palm to Q’s cheek. His hand moved around to the back of Q’s neck, and he leaned in. There was a moment of pause, a silent request for permission. Q looked back with willing eyes.

That was all it took, then Eliot was kissing Q’s lips, tender and soft. They closed their eyes and let the kiss slowly run its course.

[campchitaquamemories]

This is so fucking weird for me? What kind of fandom is this where the official show twitter and one of the lead actors actually interact with fans’s tweets on twitter? I am... We are... so blessed?

Also if you thought I was done screaming about how right @messier51 and I were with our S4 plot predictions - surprise motherfuckers! You were wrong. @lizardkingeliot also called some pretty important shit and so we’re prophets now, I guess. I don’t make the rules.