Had a dream last night that BONES released a follow-up movie to CoS, and somehow turned the bittersweet ending into an outright depressing one. Al died, I don’t remember what else, but nobody had a good outcome, and fandom lost its collective shit (as you do).
Woke up already plotting fixit fic and really confused. I have no idea why I was dreaming about this.
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/349763.h
Title: Can You Feel the Silence
It was the sound of the shower that woke Ed. It was so familiar and comfortable that he almost went right back to sleep, but some part of his brain woke up enough to follow the lazy Roy’s taking a shower with Roy’s not home.
He sat bolt upright and blinked around at the room. The lamp on Roy’s side was on. Roy’s uniform jacket had been flung onto the foot of the bed. Roy’s boots were sitting in front of the closet.
While Ed had been trying to force the evidence before him to make sense with his understanding of reality the water shut off. A moment later Roy stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in his pajama pants and toweling off his hair. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
This fic has been brought to you by sparkly ink and the fact that THE WORLD HAS GONE TO SHIT AND I NEED SOME PORN
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/349481.h
Genre: family saga
As soon as the nurse was gone they locked the door to the hospital room. Although “locked” was perhaps too mild a term—Ed fuzed the door with the wall.
Mei made a face at the machines and tubes and muttered about them being “barbaric” before she yanked the blankets to one side. Placing a hand on Roy’s stomach, she took a deep breath and settled in to focus.
*a wild fic appears*
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/349319.h
In other but not unrelated news I think I finally don't have a migraine, which is significant since I've pretty much had one (low grade) since the inauguration. Literally. It started Friday morning, went through Saturday and the March*, kinda eased up Sunday evening, started in on the other side Monday and went through last night. Like. Trump taking office gave me a migraine.
Might see about editing some fic today, though, because I need a break.
*Just a tip, but please do not burn sage or anything else in a crowd, you do not know who among the many around you might have respiratory problems or sensitivities. In this case it was REALLY NOT HELPING THE NAUSIA AND HEADACHE. I appreciate the sentiment but please, just don't.
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/349052.h
Genre: Romance, WaFF
Summary: “Snow getting to you?”
Read on Ao3||read on LJ
For some reason Roy had tucked himself away in the front room, so Ed decided to be courteous for once and bring the cocoa to him. He found him sitting by the window, seemingly mesmerized by the flurry of snow outside.
“If this keeps up, we might be here longer than we thought,” Ed remarked. “I hope you planned for—ack!”
Without warning Roy grabbed him around the middle, pressing his face to Ed’s chest. Ed stumbled, juggling the mugs and somehow getting them safely to the windowsill without scalding either one of them. “Shit, Roy, I don’t actually want to dump hot liquid on you! What’s with you?”
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/348679.h
So yeah, I bottomed out a couple weeks ago from an overload of stress. And it sucked. And it still kinda sucks, just not all the time. But my motivation to talk about any of it or post anything personal - here or anywhere - is pretty much zero.
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/347469.h
Genre: AU, Romance
Warnings: More pole dancing and idiots being completely shameless. And did I mention that this series is my most self-indulgent BS.
“He’s how old, Roy?”
Roy folded his arms against the bar with a sigh. “I dunno, Hughes. You tell me. You’re the one who did the background check.”
“He’s nineteen. just barely nineteen.” Hughes pointed an accusatory finger. “You turned thirty last year.”
He threw up his hands. “So tell me then, oh arbitrator of romance: what is an acceptable age gap?”
“It’s not the age difference, it’s the fact that he’s still a kid. You’re at completely different places in your lives.”
“You don’t even know him—”
“Neither do you!” his friend insisted. “You’ve talked to him, what, twice?”
“Two minutes of flirting after watching him strip doesn’t count.”This entry was originally posted at http://dragonimp.dreamwidth.org/347049.h