#I don’t know how much of it is clear in this fic

[dixons-sunshine]

Wake Up Call | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine.)

Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content. (I feel like I should still point out that this does not mean that Steve is gonna become a part of the list of people I write for on a regular basis. After I post my second fic for him, I don’t know whether or not I’ll write for him again. Nothing is set in stone yet. I want to start writing for him again regularly. I really do, but I’m gonna have to do some real thinking on it.)

“Steve.”

A noncommittal grunt.

“Stevie…”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“Baby, you gotta wake up.”

“Uh-uh.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.

Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.

Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.

With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.

“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”

“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.

“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.

You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.

“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.

Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.

“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”

Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”

You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”

“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.

Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.

Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”

You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”

“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”

“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”

“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”

“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.

Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.

Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.

[captainjamster]

Pairing(s): 141 x Reader Warnings: mentions of (pixel) animal death, butchering of a pixelated cow (rip thank u for ur sacrifice) Wordcount: 2.3k Summary: How I think you would get the boys into Minecraft and/or what it would be like playing with them. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: Hello why yes, this IS my first post in four months despite the mountain of unfinished fics I have xD I will edit any errors out of this later, but I'm making myself post this because I'm tired of avoiding uploading until something feelings perfect lol

We're pretending Mojang is competent so ignore any inaccuracies to how Minecraft actually works <3

Full fic under the cut <3

Price just plays to amuse you, but he becomes competent at the game ridiculously quickly. Yes, he might jokingly be an old man, as his favourite youthful commander would put it – but this ‘old man’ can learn new tricks, and he’s pretty sure some of the technology he works with would make a civvy’s head spin. Though he’s unfamiliar with most video games and consoles, sacrificing his youth for service, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard of them or played a game or two. John will admit; he doesn’t see much point in it, but adores the excitement you glow with as you’re adventuring and building.

“Alright, so it’s w, a, s and d to move, right? And then the space is to jump.” Your hands barely stretch over his, guiding them to the keys.

“S’easy enough, I suppose,” he rumbles, giving you that smile that crinkles his eyes. You resist the urge to kiss them as he adjusts his hands over your keyboard, giving the buttons experimental taps and watching how the screen reacts.

“Yep, and then you use the mouse to control your head, look around and stuff.” You nudge it over to him, and he gives it a shake before looking around.

“More bloody blocks. What’s that thing, there?”

You squint, looking closer. “A sheep, don’t worry about it. You want to try moving around?”

Once you’ve taught him the basics, his rapid acclimation to the games and controls are jarring. While he doesn’t become some Minecraft speed-runner pro, he’s an equally capable player in fights and foraging, and your base is ridiculously plentiful. You’re never lacking resources, and although he never mentions it, you can see John bloom with pride from the corner of your eye whenever you praise him for the neatly organised provisions.

You have to laugh at his suspicion of everything – “is this hostile?”, “this one hostile?”, “s’hostile one?” – and the way he takes protecting you seriously, scolding you for not wearing armour and giving you his own until he can make more.

The first time his dog dies, you think it might be over for your Minecraft run. He goes silent, aggressively hitting the keys as he slaughters the mobs around you, only speaking up when the area is clear. “I didn’t know that would happen,” he mutters, picking up the dropped loot as you make a sympathetic noise. When you log on the next time, waiting for John to come back with snacks from the corner, you don’t mention the small fence with a sign reading ‘Price Jr’ tucked into the oak trees at the edge of a pond – but the next time you check it, there’s another daisy swaying in the wind next to yours.

-----

Gaz knows what Minecraft is AND he’s played it – you’ve even played it together before. This boy is a gamer, and he’s down for a night of co-op couch games and take away with a cosy blanket if you are too.

Though he tries his hardest not to let it show around you, Kyle is aggressively driven in becoming competent, and that includes in video games. You never have to worry about dying, although it becomes a little frustrating when his experience level is more than triple yours – but you can’t even stay frustrated, you learn, as he unfalteringly drops his items and starts building a dirt stack that he jumps from, exploding into clouds and XP that floats towards you with a light, twinkling chiming. When you scold him for doing something so unnecessary, he gives you a kicked puppy look over his shoulder, pouting up at you. “I didn’t want you to wait for me to make a mob farm!”

Unlike Price, this man IS a Minecraft pro – he’s pulling out the water bucket to save you from falling, using beds to fight hostile mobs in the underworlds, zooming around with fireworks and an elytra to find that rare, specific coat of cat you’ve been running across the map looking for. You’re pretty sure that he could’ve beat the Enderdragon twice as fast if you weren’t there, but he still insists you were an equal champion of the fight as he proudly places the dragon head on your trophy wall.

Gaz is always prepared when the 6-month Minecraft fever hits and you make a new server. He’s sending you pinterest links of cute house ideas, making comments about adding another coop for the chickens and a pond for turtles. Hell, he’ll build them with, or even for you, if you want him to.

Playing with him can sometimes be similar to one of those youtube tutorials that cut back to a clip after some ‘offscreen building’ and they’re standing in front six life-scale cathedrals and a replication of Mt Everest – each time you log back on, you swear he’s expanded your base by another chunk, and you can’t even be mad you didn’t get to do anything because your world looks GOOD, and Gaz makes damn sure of it.

He has just about everything you can think of, and if not? There’s a sign next to his bed for you to note anything missing. Your main base is situated within a town of villagers with minecart roads and furnished houses, bakeries, animal centres, banner and dye stores – hell, he’s even built a zoo and an aquarium for the animals you can’t tame. All of your pets have names that he refers to fondly, each with their own little houses in a miniature version of the village. Despite the effort he puts into housing them, Gaz is a menace to the villagers – bad deal? Executed, or imprisoned at best. Sometimes logging onto for a session turns into a dramatic medieval roleplay as you dutifully play the executioner, triggering the trapdoor to give way to the pool of lava while Gaz finishes dramatically reciting the villagers’ crimes from a book - gives the ones that get to live names like ‘village dunce’ and ‘emerald hoarder’.

When you do build by yourself, he’s your project advisor throughout the process, patiently supplying the materials and helping you with the details. “Babe, this doesn’t seem right,” you grumble, head in your hands, “can you please come look?”

He’s quick to slide his chair across to yours, leaning on the sides. “This one,” he announces after a quick scan. “You added an extra block.”

You recount again, letting out a groan as you start breaking the blocks, and Gaz dutifully rolls back to help you. He’s your partner in crime, complicit in indulging your abandonment of any appropriate sleep schedule, staying up until he calls out your name to find you asleep, drooling on the keyboard.

-----

Soap does not give a shit until you mod the fuck out of it.

Yes, he knows what Minecraft is, thank y’very much bonnie, but he just doesn’t care for games that much. Like Price, his youth was spent either trying to get into the military, or actually being in it. The only games he’s entertained are his small selection of first-person shooters he plays occasionally off deployment that you can never beat him in. The topic first comes up is over dinner after a call with Johnny’s family, as he’s grumbling between bites.

“My sisters weans play all sorts ‘o stupid games, bloody bite my head off if I call ‘em the wrong thing – Minecraft, Roblox, aren’t they all the same?”

“Aren’t all shooter games the same, by that assumption?” You point out to his distaste, and he makes a face at you, reaching over the table to steal a bite of your food.

The next day, you pull up Minecraft for him to properly check out. Johnny isn’t particularly enraptured by the charm of the game, but he perks up when you mention the redstone mechanics. “So, it’s really just all block-y? And ye smack things wit’ yer hand?” He frowns, leaning against the back of your chair.

“That’s one part, yeah. But you run around and gather resources, by mining and stuff, so you can craft and build better things to survive – you know – Mine, craft. Minecraft.”

Johnny scoffs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Y’think I’m daft, now? Taken too many knocks to the head, aye?”

“Let go of me, you’re going to get me killed!” You squawk, and he lets you struggle for a moment before he kisses the top of your head and releases it, wandering into the kitchen for what you assume is a snack, knowing Johnny.

The next time he takes interest, you’re still up when he stumbles in blearily, rubbing his eyes. “Bonnie? Yer not really still playin’ this, are ye? Y’haven’t even slept?”

“I was going to sleep soon,” you huff, turning back. “I just need to get a few more things and go back home.”

There’s an incredulous noise amongst footsteps over your shoulder, and his voice is suddenly a lot closer in your ear. “Soon? S’five in’ the morn’ bon, are ye just gon’ sleep the day away?’

You pause the game, spinning the chair around to meet him with a glare. “Why are you up this early?”

“International meeting, don’t go changin’ the subject.” He spins you back around despite your protests, leaning back upon your chair once again and peering at the screen. “Cannae see what yer enjoyin’ about this.”

“Wh – I mean, it’s not like last time. This time, I’ve downloaded these files that modify the games contents, and there’s way more crazy shit. You can mod it so much it’s like a new game.”

Johnny makes a noise of interest, dropping down to settle against your shoulders. “Really now?”

“Yeah, like look at this. I’ve got a gun in the game.”

A shotgun appears in your hand as you scroll to the hotbar tab, and you shoot a shell into the ground, listening as Johnny clicks in appreciation, surprisingly satisfied after his scrutinising. “Alright, show me ‘er properly.”

He hovers over the chair for a few more minutes, taking in your overview of the mods. “Oh, and this one! Hang on, look.” You hit a cow, and Johnny watches as it falls to the floor. Grabbing the body, you drag it over to a pixelated hook, and show him how you break the carcass down through the stages, collecting parts down to the bones.

He makes a noise of interest. “Si would like that. Can ye play with other people?”

You spin around to give him an excited grin, feeling the sleepiness retreat with your rapidly building enthusiasm. “Why, you want to join?”

Johnny scoffs, but there’s no hiding how his eyes gleam as a smile tugs at his lips to mirror yours. “Only after I finish the meetin’, and y’get some decent fuckin’ rest.”

-----

Ghost doesn’t care until Soap asks him to play.

When you originally ask him, it’s a late evening, and he’s curled up on the bed with a book as you deliver the question. There’s a pause in the turning of pages, and you get the usual dead-eyed stare when you say something he thinks is stupid over the edge of his book. ‘Y’want me to play a kid’s game?”

You give him your own scrutinizing look back, before turning back to the screen. “It’s not a kid’s game, Simon. Video games aren’t just for kids.”

He doesn’t press the topic any further, but you know his mind is often unchanged - so it’s a nice surprise when he brings it back up again a month or so later over the quiet chatter of some foreign film he’s watching, stirring you to look up from the words of your book.

“Oi, what’s that game y’were talkin’ about? Bloody… Mineshaft?”

You think Simon knows perfectly well what the game is called, but you humour him, pulling the blanket down slightly to look at him. “Minecraft?”

He snorts, leaning back into the armchair. “Yeah, s’one. Johnny’s bird got ‘im into it, won’t stop yappin’ ‘bout it now.”

You hold your breath, doing your best impression of nonchalance, directing your gaze back to the book. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice, sounds like he’s excited about it.”

Simon gives a non-committal grunt, but you can tell his focus is beyond the screen he’s looking towards. “Asked me t’play it with ‘im, bloody bastard. Said ‘e’d paid for a server or some shite.”

Excitement explodes in the back of your mind as you mentally praise your husband’s co-worker, thanking him for his influence as you steady your tone. “Well, why don’t you?”

He snorts with a cross of his arms, holding the remote against his chest. “Don’t know how to do all that rubbish.”

You close the book, sitting up and waving off his statement assuredly. “I have it installed already, you don’t have to do anything – oh, but can you ask him if he’s playing with mods?”

He’s not impressed with the request, frown deepening. “What, ‘m I your personal messenger now?”

But you’re onto him already, guiding the topic back on track. “Alright,” you give him a dry look, “give me his number then.”

The show pauses, and Simon looks back at you. It takes a moment, but you know you’ve won with a roll of his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he pulls his phone out and passes it to you after another message comes through.

>> Bonnie got me a whole folder of mods. Liek a whole nother game. Yer gonna play minecraft with me?

“So what?”

“Okay, well that’s easy to set up.” You pass the phone back to him, settling into your comfy nest of blankets. “So?”

“Are you going to play with him?”

(A month later, there’s another desk snug against yours while Simon fumbles with his screen settings as a broguish laugh comes from the headset, and Friday nights are something you’re realising you’ll never get back from that goddamn pixel game)

Headers and Dividers by saradika-graphics

[l0stglitch]

Omg ik we just got completely broken in the last request but imagine the one day we’re walking around the boardwalk and we see this helpless kitty so we try and help it ofc you forgot to tell your dad so there pissed but they kidnapped you when you were a helpless kitty in there eyes so why can’t you do the same?? sorry if this doesn’t make sense and for bad spelling :,/

History repeats itself

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Notes- Sorry I know this isn’t exactly what you asked but I thought your request would tie perfectly into a part 2 of the last fic/hcs.

Warnings- Depression, Mental illness, Angst(?), Yandere behaviour, Dissociation

Part 1

It had been five weeks since your cruel punishment had ended, and nothing had improved.

David watched you from his wheelchair throne, not even bothering to hide his concern. Marko was sat to your right, an arm slung round your shoulder as he quietly read to you.

It was a quiet evening in the middle of October. You used to love Halloween, but this year David wasn’t even sure you were aware of the approaching holiday.

He so desperately wished you would snap out of this strange state of mind. Even if just to scream at him and call him an awful father- anything was better than this. It was like someone had stolen every part of your mind linked to you and replaced it with a numb, complacent animal.

“Y/n you haven’t left the cave in a while, sweetheart. Why don’t we go to that diner you like in town?”

Your eyes slowly tore themselves from the page and met with David’s. It broke his heart to see how empty they looked. “Ok.”

Marko frowned, “You used to love that place, pumpkin. Not feeling up to burgers tonight?”

Your only response was a small shrug as you shifted your attention back to the book resting in his right hand.

Your two fathers exchanged a worried glance. Marko squeezed your shoulder sympathetically before continuing to read.

David sighed and stood up, “I’ll go let the others know.”

You hadn’t realised in your state of depression, but things had grown tense between your fathers. Dwayne in particular had become noticeably colder towards David.

Said man was cleaning your room for you. A somewhat futile attempt at trying to win you over, David assumed. Either that or he was trying to distract himself from the distressing reality of the situation.

David leant against your doorframe, watching as Dwayne carefully folded your freshly washed clothes.

“You just gonna pretend I’m not here?”

Dwayne finally looked up from his task, “Wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk or just watch me folding our daughter’s clothes.”

David narrowed his eyes at the man before him, but decided not to argue, “We were gonna take the kid to that burger place if you guys wanted to join.” He glanced over at Paul, who was sprawled across your couch with a cigarette.

Dwayne glared back at David, “The kid has a name, David. It’s Y/n.”

He huffed, “Are you coming or not man?”

“Of course I’m coming. She’s my daughter as much as she is yours.” Dwayne shot back, grabbing his leather jacket before striding out the room to go find you.

Paul stood up as well, shooting David a wary glance before brushing past him in pursuit of Dwayne.

David sighed in frustration before following his two partners out the room.

He returned to find Marko helping you into your jacket. You stared off into space passively, allowing him to guide you arms into the sleeves.

David frowned at the sight. You would’ve never let him do that before.

Dwayne cleared his throat, “I’ll take her over to the bikes.” Marko glanced up at him before looking back at you.

“You wanna ride with Dwayne, baby?” His tone was uncharacteristically gentle, as if he was trying not to spook you.

Your only response was a shrug, which he took as a yes, allowing the other man to take your hand and lead you out the cave.

David watched you leave before turning to Marko. “She spoken to you yet?”

The shorter man shrugged uncomfortably, “Not really. She’s like a zombie.”

“Hey man- she’s still our daughter,” Paul interjected with an offended frown.

Marko raised his hands in defense, “I know! That kid means the fucking world to me, but I’m not gonna sit here and pretend something isn’t wrong.”

Paul just scowled at him before turning around and leaving to join you and Dwayne outside.

“Well this is fucking fantastic. Now they’re both pissed off.” David grumbled under his breath.

Marko ignored the statement, “You think she’ll get better?”

David hummed, “She’s a strong kid.”

He frowned at the half answer, “I guess so.”

“Cmon. The others are waiting for us out there.”

Marko didn’t reply as he grabbed the keys to his bike and lead the way out, trying to hide his concern about your deteriorating state.

They hadn’t even left and things had already become tense. This was going to be a long night.

By the time David reached the others, Dwayne had already gotten you sat on the back of his bike, arms wrapped half heartedly around his midsection.

“She ready to go?” David asked, catching Dwayne’s eye.

The other man simply revved his engine and turned his attention over to the space ahead.

David rolled his eyes and mounted his own ride, growing tired of Dwayne’s attitude. Had it been Marko or Paul, he would have already put a stop to it, but Dwayne wasn’t as easy to order around.

Being the oldest meant that whilst he wasn’t as hotheaded and rash as the others, he did stand his ground in arguments. They didn’t occur often, but when they did it affected the whole pack.

Dwayne didn’t wait for David to adjust himself. His bike raced ahead without warning, leaving the others to catch up.

~

Despite the borderline overwhelming smell of greasy junk food, you couldn’t muster enough energy to eat the meal before you.

A delicate voice in the back of your mind reminded you of your need for food, but no pangs of hunger could overpower the numbness you had felt since David had chained you to the wall.

Dwayne rubbed your knee from under the table and leant in closer so you could hear him properly, “I know you don’t feel hungry baby, but you gotta eat some of it.”

You remained silent, focusing your attention on the bubbles fizzing in your coke.

“How about you try some of the fries?”

Still, no response came from your mouth. All thoughts withered away before your mind was able to comprehend any intelligent idea about the external world around you. You didn’t know if you wanted the fries or not. They tasted good- you knew that, but the taste of what you were eating seemed so much more trivial now.

What was the point in making the effort? They wouldn’t last long anyway. You’d be better off just giving them away to the scrappy kids lingering around the car park.

Dwayne sighed beside you. “Do you know how much it hurts seeing you like this princess? Please just eat the fries for me, Y/n. I don’t wanna lose my baby girl.”

You looked up from the coke and accidentally locked eyes with David. He was watching you with an expectant stare, his icy blue eyes boring into yours.

Normally you would’ve squirmed under the attention, but it no longer affected you the way it used to. “I’m not hungry,” You replied, voice raspy and quiet. It didn’t matter what volume you spoke at- they’d be able to hear every word even if you had whispered.

David sighed, “You haven’t eaten since yesterday. We’re not leaving this diner till you finish those fries.” You shifted your gaze back to your plate as he spoke, “You can’t force me to eat.”

Marko glanced over at you from his seat beside David, “Wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.” Dwayne sharply kicked him under the table, eliciting a hiss of pain. You didn’t react. They definitely could force you to eat if it came down to it, but you knew that all four of them were still walking on eggshells around you. It wouldn’t be worth the risk. Dwayne shot Marko a stern glare before speaking to you, “We’re not gonna force you to do anything baby. If you don’t want the fries that’s ok. We could go get you something else if you want?”

You continued staring meekly down at your full plate of food. This one sided conversation had began to tire you, and you didn’t see the point in answering Dwayne’s constant questions. In the end it didn’t matter- if you didn’t make a decision then they’d make one for you. You were happy to just let them take the reins, allowing you to fall into a state of dissociation.

David made a clicking sound with his tongue and locked eyes with Dwayne, “Can I have a word?”

The brunette hesitated, shooting you another concerned glance before standing up from his chair and moving out of earshot. David was quick to follow.

Dwayne frowned as he walked over, “What do you want, David?”

The man shoved his gloved hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat, “We can’t keep tiptoeing round her like this man.”

“Well what do you suggest?” Dwayne snapped back, “We tried things your way, and look where it fucking got us. Our daughter is practically unresponsive and showing no signs of improvement. All this because you thought that she needed to be isolated for two months.”

David scoffed, “Yeah, well we all know that your ‘gentle parenting’ act is not only complete bullshit, but also fucking ineffective. As for Marko, you think breaking her legs would’ve been any better than this?”

At the mention of his name, Marko glanced up from the food in front of him. Both he and Paul had heard the whole of their argument, but neither had wanted to get involved.

Dwayne shoved David back, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. “This is your fault David! Look what you’ve done- she’s broken.”

David gritted his teeth, suddenly aware of the attention they had gained from the other customers. He lowered his voice and took a step closer to Dwayne, “I can fix this. You don’t.. understand her mind the way I do.”

He glared back at David, “I’ve walked her dreams countless times. I think I know our daughter’s mind well enough.”

The other man just shook his head, almost condescendingly, “No.. not like that. You just don’t get it- you never will. It’s not something that can be learned. It’s instinct.”

“Well your ‘instincts’ to have her chained to a wall for two months seemed a little off.”

David opened his mouth to argue back, but was cut off before he had a chance to speak. “She’s not eating anything guys. We should just, like, take her to the beach or something. Perhaps she needs a little fresh air…” Paul suggested, trying to focus their attention on something else.

David paused, caught off guard by the interruption. Apparently Dwayne hadn’t seen Paul approaching either, because he stayed silent too.

“Yeah I think Paul’s got a point,” Marko added, standing up and nodding towards the other man. He rounded the table and pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm round your shoulders possessively. “Should we go?” He asked pointedly, his voice bordering on threatening.

David nodded and Dwayne took a step forward as if he wanted to pull you out of Marko’s hold, but then stopped himself and hummed in agreement.

You stared at the grime on the floor- it sort of reminded you of the cave. The hand that rested on your shoulder gave it a squeeze before you were guided outside the diner. Nothing felt real. The voices around you sounded different, and your body felt alien to you. Perhaps you would see a stranger if you looked into a mirror. Perhaps not. Did it even matter anymore? This wasn’t your life. This wasn’t happening.

“She’s completely out of it man,” Paul murmured to Dwayne, eyeing you as they walked towards the bikes. “Our baby’s in there somewhere… she’s gotta be.” Dwayne replied, trying to keep the doubt out of his own voice.

Marko turned around to address the others, “I’m gonna take Y/n on my bike.” Despite him usually being the most reckless driver, nobody argued back. Paul hummed before speaking up, “So we’re still going to the beach, right?” His eyes darted between each of his lovers, searching for confirmation. David nodded in response, “Yeah, unless anyone else has a better idea?”

“Nah man, the beach is fine,” Marko replied as they finally reached the bikes. Mounting his ride, your father turned to help you up, only to find you had disappeared from your previous spot.

He frantically twisted around, “Where the fuck-”

Paul’s barking laugh cut him off, “Chill out dude, she’s right there!” If Marko hadn’t been dead, he was sure his heart would’ve been pounding from within his chest.

“What the hell is she doing?”

That question was a little harder to answer. Whilst your fathers had been talking, you’d found yourself drawn to a small black cat huddled against a nearby fence. The poor thing was shivering against the October wind, its scrappy black fur doing little to protect itself from the weather.

For the first time in months you felt something other than empty detachment. You couldn’t describe the emotion- it felt strange and alien to you, but there was no denying it was there.

This tiny, helpless creature seemed akin to you in every way. Those lost eyes, constantly searching for a meaning, bore into yours with an eery familiarity.

You found yourself unconsciously reaching towards the cat, offering a trembling hand. The frightened animal hesitated before your crouched form. Your voice was hoarse and quiet when you spoke to it, “It’s ok. I can keep you safe.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had subconsciously projected all of your repressed trauma onto this cat. A sudden overwhelming desire to protect and nurture filled you. Instinctively, you picked up the kitten and brought her close to your chest, stroking her soft fur before turning around and staring up at the four men behind you.

Your fathers watched in startled silence as you turned to look at them. Your eyes held more emotion than they had seen in months, and you held each of their gazes with a resolved stare. It was obvious you weren’t going to let go of the cat, David noted, glancing down at the black scrap of fur.

Marko cautiously took a step closer, crouching down to your level. “Hey sweetie.. who’s this?” He asked softly, motioning towards to animal.

For a moment, you stayed silent. How were you going to explain to them that this cat was you? Perhaps not physically, but you were convinced that spiritually you two were the same.

After earning no response, Marko tried again. “Does she have a name?” You nodded slowly, “It’s pumpkin.”

Marko frowned, “But that’s my name for you. Maybe we should call her something else?” You shook your head, “Her name is pumpkin.”

Your father sighed. The name sort of made sense- considering the fact that the cat had remarkably bright orange eyes. It irked him a little though that you had given his pet name for you to a mere animal you had found on the street.

“She’s cold; I need to take her home.” Marko watched as you abruptly stood up and carried Pumpkin back over to the bikes. This sudden change in demeanour was perplexing, but not entirely unwelcome.

You stopped in front of Dwayne, tilting your head expectantly at him. He shifted uncomfortably, “Why don’t you ride with Marko, baby? He’s good with animals.”

Paul sniggered behind him, “You’re not scared, are ya bud?” Dwayne rolled his eyes, “Just don’t want it scratchin’ up my jacket.”

You ignored their banter, bringing Pumpkin over to Marko so that he’d be able to help you up onto his bike. “You sure you wanna keep her?” He asked you quietly, glancing down at the kitten in your arms.

You nodded certainly, eyes sparkling dangerously under the streetlight, entranced by an obsession they recognised all too well.

“She’s mind now. She’s staying with me.”

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @purple-lemon-8 @xjesterxjacksx @whatispopping69 @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @humbuginmybones

I guess this is my Christmas present to you guys! Sorry it took me so long to post. 😅

[gothamite-rambler]

The Batgirls on their Periods at the Same Time

Context: This is probably some ooc and if that bothers you just scroll on by. It's cool, silly fics like this depicting the batfamily in this manner isn't for everybody but don't leave hate comments if this bothers you. This is posted here because it's more shorter and just feels like it would work here 😊 Oh and I wrote this while on my period. We go through out periods in different ways. The batgirls and batwoman are expys of that and this is how the male members of their family handle it. This is for all my girlie pops that have to deal with this curse. Let's dive in!

Dick (walking over to Barbara): Hey, Barb, you sent me a few angry texts. Did I make you mad about something I'm unaware of?

Barbara (seething): Yes! Remember that triple chocolate cake I had leftover? You’d better buy me a new one!

Barbara deliberately rolled over Dick's foot while muttering an impressive assortment of curse words.

Dick (complaining): Ow! You said I could have it!

Barbara (voice filled with the fury of a thousand angry souls): Lies! Get me a new one, or I'm ignoring you for the rest of the day, including during comms tonight! You greedy ass! Hold off on the sweets, fat ass!

Dick (furrowing his brows, angry): Fat ass? Rude! Jesus over some cake? I'll buy you another one... after I ice my foot. You freakin’ jerk.

Barbara (over her shoulder with a smirk): Cake thief!

Tim silently listened to the argument while he sat at the kitchen table. Dick sat down, rubbing his sore foot.

Tim (confused): Hm... Have the girls been acting… a little on edge lately?

Dick (hesitating): I hadn’t really noticed until my foot became a casualty. What have you seen?

Tim: Barbara seems to be irritated with everything around her and Stephanie has been eerily quiet and distant today, which is unlike her. Bruce asked her if she wanted to patrol a different part of Gotham, and she just growled at him... which is close to how she usually acts.

Dick: Hm… that's odd.

Just then, Stephanie Brown trudged into the kitchen, wearing an oversized shirt and jogger pants, looking like she had just escaped from some form of medieval torture.

Stephanie (almost a whisper): I’m watching cat videos. Don’t bother me and let Duke know I'm really sorry for the many hurtful words I said.

Tim (coolly while stirring his tea): He said it's fine and he'll return in a few days.

Stephanie nodded with an understanding 'mm-hm'.

Stephanie: Oh and tell Bruce I’m covering the other part of town tonight, just need to be wrapped in blanket for next few hours.

Tim (nodding): You got it, bestie.

Stephanie grunted a 'thank you' and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Tim: She hasn’t snapped at me too much.

Dick (worried): Hm… wait, wait, wait... Duke left? This isn’t the time, is it?

Tim (tilting his head): Time for what?

Dick (leaning in dramatically): No, no, no- Wait, we might be in the clear if Cass and Kate don't have there's.

Tim (looking confused): Have what?

Dick: You poor summer child.

Dick sighed, shaking his head, while Tim shrugged nonchalantly, blissfully unaware of the tale as old as time: period sync-up.

---------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Jason heard a knock at his door. He opened it to find his older sister, Cass, standing there, wringing her hands nervously. She bit her lip, a worried expression on her face.

Cass (waving quickly): Hi, Jason.

Jason: Hey, Cass. Everything okay? You seem stressed.

Cass (bashfully): Do I? Yeah, um, my… Aunt Flo is visiting, my caregiver never took the time to- I hate when she visits, but I need to go to the store for supplies… I don’t want to go alone. You’re the only one I trust to take me.

Jason (confused): You don’t have an Aunt Flo, and what supplies do you need to meet her?

Cass (frowning): Oh… oh dear, you don't get it. Um, my crimson tide… has arrived?

Jason: Crimson… what now?

Cass (losing patience): My period is on! I need to buy tampons or pads before I bleed and ruin my sheets again! I'm literally wearing the last tampon, Selina is on vacation-

Jason (covering her mouth): All right, got it! The message is crystal clear now. Okay, stand there, I’ll grab my keys.

As Jason went to his living room to get his backpack, Cass stepped inside, surprised he’d actually agreed to take her to the store.

Cass: Wait, you’re not… weirded out by this?

Jason: I’m friends with Artemis. I’ve seen things, it makes me squeamish at times, but that might be because I've never went through it... thank God. Austen can keep watch while I'm gone.

Austen the cat meowed to confirm that as he rested in a carboard box.

Jason (heading outside): Now let’s get you those supplies.

Cass clapped eagerly, following Jason to his car, clearly relieved.

-----------------------------------

Back at Wayne Manor, Dick waited for his father to pick up while Tim sat in perplexed silence.

Dick (calling Bruce): Bruce, are the girls on their periods?

Tim (gasping dramatically): Oh, that’s what it is!

Dick (clearly irritated): Jesus Christ, Tim. Duke figured it out!

Tim (defending himself): I've been distracted lately.

Bruce (calm): Hm… that explains why Stephanie snapped at me and why Barbara cussed me out… I’m a little too familiar with that sort of thing. I don't blame Duke for taking a week off, he texted me earlier about that. So yes, they definitely are. Cass is probably on board for that ride too. Women can sync up with their menstrual cycles like a well-oiled machine.

Kate's laughter could be heard in the background along with Bruce groaning.

Tim (stammering): How does he-- Bruce, how do you know that?

Bruce (slightly uncomfortable): Selina is very informative… and Harley is a treasure trove of knowledge. Trust me, you learn a thing or two. Just go easy on them, and they won’t bite your head off. You didn’t do anything to tick them off, did you?

Dick (ice pack firmly planted on his foot): ... I may have done something to make Babs upset.

Tim (grinning proudly): I have not, so I’m doing good!

Bruce: Well, like I said, don’t do anything else stupid, Dick.

Dick: I’ll try not to.

----------------------------------

With that, Bruce ended the call, sighed, and turned to his cousin Kate, aka Batwoman, who sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

Bruce: And then there’s you.

Kate (coolly): Yeah, just going to ignore me? No mention of the four-way sync-up?

Bruce: I’m ignoring a lot right now especially involving you. I’m a master at many things—women syncing menstrual cycles is not one of them.

Kate (nodding sagely): Trust me, women don’t get it either.

Bruce: Let’s at least get you your monthly period supplies.

Kate (squirming): Could you not call it that?

Bruce (mockingly): Could you be actually prepared next time and not drag me out of work?

Kate (swiping her hand like a cat): Ooh, catty? Maybe you’re on your month as well.

Bruce (chuckling dryly): You’re hilarious, let me tell ya.

Kate: I cope with humor. Now get out of the car. Also, you’re buying me lunch today.

Bruce (sardonic): Oh, fantastic. I definitely wanted to treat you while you’re on your period. Now, let’s get your supplies before you fashion a makeshift cape out of my car seat.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Summary: “So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious. The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?”

___

Or: Leo and Jason meet Piper and Reyna’s daughter.

Written for @lost-trio-week day 5: Parents

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: General Audiences

Gentle CW for mentions of childbirth and anxieties surrounding that topic. I personally think this warning might even be overkill, but as per usual with stuff like this, my rule is better safe than sorry.

This fic is once again dedicated to my friend @queenjunothegreat, because Em was originally her baby (shared custody next gen verse my beloved <3) and she was the one who came up with her name. They also came up with the fic title because I’m useless when it comes to titles lmaooo

Soft married Valgrace & Pipeyna. Also lost trio content, obviously, specific focus once again being Leo and Piper’s friendship (can you tell I care so so much about these idiots?)

———

Leo hated hospitals. A hospital was where he’d spent the first few days after his mom’s death, being treated for smoke inhalation, and it was where his first set of awful foster parents had picked him up. 

To say his memories of that time weren’t the fondest would have been the understatement of the century.

And sure, he knew in theory that this was different. New Rome Hospital had a really low death rate for anything that wasn’t battle-related injuries. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been a childbirth-related death here in a century. Realistically, he knew Piper was fine.

Still, the time the rather frazzled-looking Asclepius legacy that had greeted them was taking to figure out where she was and whether it was alright for her to have visitors made Leo’s anxious brain spiral in all kinds of unfun directions.

“Piper might still want to get back at us for the time we both died on her,” he told Jason, anxiously wringing his hands.

His husband raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think she’d die out of spite ten years after the fact,” he commented, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Besides, Reyna said she was doing okay, and you know how she gets about Piper.”

And yeah, alright, that was a fair enough point, but Leo’s anxiety wasn’t exactly great at listening to reason. It never had been.

Nothing would calm him down until he’d seen with his own two eyes that Piper was doing okay.

“If we ever have a kid, we’re adopting,” he sighed into his husband’s shoulder. 

Jason laughed, nuzzling him gently before leaning down to kiss him.

Jason’s lips were a little scabbed from where he had anxiously chewed on them.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that, right?” Leo teased, grinning up at his husband. “Thank the gods I got rid of all the staplers, or you might have started chewing on those, too. We cannot have you set that kind of example for baby McLean.”

“Will you ever let that one go?” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “I was two.” 

“What kind of husband would I be if I did let it go, hm?” Leo asked, kissing him again.

Someone cleared their throat. A few years back, this might have made them jump apart like embarrassed children, but now, Leo pulled back slowly, eyes lingering on his husband a while longer.

He’d dragged Jason back out of the Underworld by the collar of his stupid school uniform when they’d been seventeen. He was allowed to be disgustingly in love in public. The people could deal.

The Asclepius legacy stood there again, staring down at his clipboard awkwardly. Leo was pretty sure the guy was younger than him—he looked barely older than twenty. 

“Room 201. I wouldn’t recommend staying long—mother and child are both exhausted and will need plenty of rest. And wash your hands before you-”

“Okay, yeah, we’re not complete idiots,” Leo interrupted him. He’d washed his hands four times since getting to the hospital, just because it had given him something to do. 

He was moving in an instant, dragging his husband along with him. Thankfully, his ankle had the decency not to be too much of an ass today.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Jason commented, voice tinged with amusement as he pulled him back the way they’d come. 

“Why do you know that?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just how much time did you spend here as a kid?”

Jason ignored him and kept walking.

~~~~

Leo wanted to knock on that stupid blue door. Really, he did.

So he wasn’t sure why it was that, instead of knocking, he stuffed his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and just stared at the door like a total idiot.

His outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, which was more than could be said for the clothes he’d worn in the workshop earlier that day. He wasn’t as bad as his husband, who Leo had had to talk out of wearing a suit to the hospital because he was worried about making a good first impression, but he was suddenly worried that maybe he still smelled of motor oil. 

The kid would not remember, obviously, but he thought if the first thing he did was upset Piper’s baby, that would still suck. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they didn’t like him.

Jason squeezed his shoulder. “Mi vida, you're gonna make a great uncle, you know that, right?”

“Duh. I’m incredible,” Leo announced, continuing to stare at the door. 

As always, his husband saw right through him—not that Leo was making it especially hard to do so right now.

“They’re gonna love you. I mean it.” Jason nudged him. “You’re great with the kids we help at the shelter.”

“I mean, I guess,” Leo mumbled, but his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “If all else fails, I suppose I can always bribe them with candy once they’re a little older.”

Jason laughed, and Leo finally managed to make himself knock.

It was Reyna who opened the door. She wasn’t even the one who’d had the baby, but she still looked as much of a fucking disaster as Leo had ever seen her. She had deep rings under her reddened eyes and was wearing what Leo was decently sure were rumpled pajamas. Her hair had come loose from its usual neat braid and exploded in messy waves around her shoulders.

“It turns out my daughter is really fond of my hair,” Reyna explained dryly, but there was a softness in her eyes that was usually reserved for Piper. “Come in.”

She moved back to her wife’s bedside in an instant. 

Piper looked… honestly, Leo had seen her look way worse. Her safety scissors bob didn’t look a lot more messy than usual, if he was being honest. Her skin was sweat-damp and she was obviously exhausted, but no one had stabbed her or tried to cook her into soup, which was definitely a plus.

Well, that and the way she was smiling down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

“Hey Pipes,” Leo said, raising his hand in a ridiculous wave as he moved to stand at her side.

“Hey.” Piper smiled up at them. “Glad you guys could make it. I’d wave back, but I’m holding a baby right now, so.”

The baby was small, but in the way Leo assumed newborns usually were. She had just the slightest hint of dark hair and equally dark eyes and was dressed in a small orange onesie.

She was looking right at him.

“She’s got your nose.” Leo paused. “Well, a very tiny copy of your nose. You’ve kept your own nose, as far as I can tell.”

“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” Piper sighed, poking her daughter in the nose in question. “Your tío is a bit of an idiot, but you’re going to love him, too. Trust me.”

The baby cooed happily.

“Great.” Leo groaned dramatically. “I’m being bullied by a newborn.”

Piper laughed.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, though Leo knew the baby had about 95% of his husband’s attention right now.

Jason had been pulling faces at her literally since they’d walked in the door. 

He’d always been that way around kids, but babies were especially bad. They activated a protective, wildly affectionate parental instinct that Leo had to assume came from Jason’s wolf boy months because he definitely hadn’t gotten it from either of his parents.

It was endearing as hell, but had the unfortunate side effect that it had always made Leo think about a kid of their own, including back when he hadn’t felt even slightly ready for one.

“Exhausted. Content. A little embarrassed.” Piper burst into another fit of tired laughter. “I sort of yelled at my wife to get out. Twice. Which would have been fine, except I was apparently using charmspeak.”

“That you even told her to get out at all seems wildly unfair towards Reyna considering you guys didn’t even have sex,” Leo commented, raising an eyebrow at Piper. “This is, like, objectively not on her.”

Reyna snorted, which was always a massive win in Leo’s book. He’d had a hard time figuring out what sort of jokes made her laugh, and every time he managed, he felt immensely proud of himself.

“Nuh-uh,” Piper protested immediately. “Em may be a magic IVF baby, but she’s a magic IVF baby we both decided to have, so it’s still at least fifty percent Reyna’s fault.”

“That’s a responsibility I will gladly accept. She’s mine and she’s yours and I would not change that for anything in the world.” Reyna pressed a soft kiss to her wife’s forehead. Then she reached down towards her daughter. The baby happily grasped her fingers. 

Reyna’s usual serious expression had melted away into a smile that was so sweet Leo thought it’d give him a toothache. 

“Yeah, okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” he commented, because he was a total hypocrite when it came to other people’s PDA. “But what I really want to know is how far out of the hospital you got before the charmspeak wore off.”

“The first time I realized by the end of the hallway. The second time I made it all the way out to the parking lot. How Piper had that kind of energy, I’ll never understand.” Reyna shook her head, a kind of quiet awe in her voice. “Though perhaps worse than me leaving for a few minutes was the fact that the second time it happened, it also affected the midwife.”

Jason abruptly stopped pulling faces at Em to look up at Piper with a horrified expression.

“That sounds terrifying. Are you okay?”

“It was scary as hell at the time.” Piper shrugged. “Looking back on it, it's mostly just funny.”

“You continue to be the strongest warrior I know,” Reyna told her fondly, leaning down to kiss her.

“Love, I was an absolute terror and you know it.” Piper beamed at her wife. “You are cute, though, so maybe I’ll allow it.”

“So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn again. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. He looked like he might genuinely explode if he didn’t get to hold the baby within the next three seconds, but also like he’d bravely bear that fate because he didn’t want to be rude. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious.

The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?” 

Leo hadn’t gone by Emilio since before he’d met Piper. He’d almost forgotten she knew his full name. 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Piper told him, suddenly looking awkward. “I know why you don’t use the name for yourself, but I figured just naming her Lea might be confusing. Sorry, I probably should have asked you sooner. If you don’t want-”

“No, no, if you guys really want that, I’d be honored. But like- why?” he asked in utter disbelief. “Why me, out of all people?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Piper said, smiling at him. “Because you’re brave and smart and the best person I know. Because you defied fate and found happiness despite all odds. Because I’ll be lucky if she grows up to be even a little bit like you.”

Leo turned to Reyna. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. “You’re okay with that?”

Reyna nodded, her expression solemn. “If names really do have power, yours is the greatest blessing we can give her.”

Leo was absolutely bawling his eyes out. His husband wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders and soothingly ran a hand up and down the length of his arm.

“She’s the luckiest kid in the universe,” Jason told him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 

Leo had thought himself a curse for most of his childhood. He’d gotten better about it in recent years, since he’d made peace with his mother’s death and led Jason back out of the Underworld, but the pain had never fully faded.

Piper and Reyna associating his name with joy—choosing it for their daughter to make sure she’d be happy —was hitting him on a level he couldn’t fully process. 

It had been one thing to know on a theoretical level that Piper wanted him to be her child’s godfather—minus the religious connotations. 

But this? To know his best friend not only trusted him with the smallest, most precious human being Leo had ever met, but that she trusted his name to keep her safe? He genuinely didn’t think he would ever recover from that.

“I love you guys,” he sniffled. “So much.”

He knew that was a deeply uncool reaction. Maybe he should have been all smug and braggy about the whole thing. Maybe he would be, later, once everything had properly sunken in.

But right now, he couldn’t stop crying.

”And we love you right back,” Piper said with a soft smile, leaning forward and holding her armful of curious baby out towards him. “You’re not getting out of holding your niece, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffled. 

Leo had been terrified of holding Em basically since he knew she existed. He’d never been able to bring himself to hold Percy and Annabeth’s kid, despite all the times they’d babysat back in college. It had been easy enough to pass the job off to Jason, who loved holding babies.

That way, Leo could avoid any potential disasters. No way he could drop a baby he never even held, right?

He’d known that Piper wouldn’t let him get away with that when it came to her child, and that knowledge had scared the hell out of him for months. What if he screwed up? What if he did it wrong and somehow hurt the baby?

But Piper was holding Em out towards him, an expression of utter trust on her face, and Leo couldn’t do anything but reach out to take his tiny niece from her arms, trying to mirror the way Piper had held her.

Emilia stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Her weight felt awkward in his arms.

“Gods, I’m totally messing this up, aren’t I?”

“You’re really not,” Piper reassured him. “Just make sure you’re supporting her head. Here, I’ll-” She tried to lean forward, but stopped, wincing.

“Hermosa, you’re supposed to be resting,” Reyna told her, voice firm and concerned. 

She was smiling at Leo, but she was also wringing her hands, watching him closely like maybe she was expecting him to drop her daughter. 

That made two of them.

Leo could easily picture her vaulting over the bed to catch her child if that happened, though that weirdly didn’t make him feel a lot better about the possibility.

“Don’t mind my lovely wife. Rey’s just nervous,” Piper whispered, patting his arm. “You’re the first person aside from us and the hospital staff who gets to hold Em.”

“If you’re trying to make me less nervous, reminding me that I’m messing up one of Emilia’s first experiences with being held was not the way to go,” Leo joked, trying to shift the baby in his arms. This was not very effective, seeing as he had no idea what he was doing.

“I can help, if you want,” Jason volunteered immediately. He waited for Leo to nod, then put his hands over Leo’s and carefully adjusted his hold on Em a bit. “Here. Just support her head a little more. You’re doing great, mi vida.”

Emilia’s weight felt a little less awkward in his arms now. Leo relaxed a fraction, smiling down at her.

“Thanks for the assist.” 

“Always.” Jason nuzzled Leo’s cheek. “You were barely even messing up. You just have a tendency to overthink things when you’re nervous.”

“Says the guy who almost came here in a suit,” Leo commented, but he didn’t look up. His entire focus was on the newborn in his arms. He was mesmerized.

“Hi, sobrinita.” He was still sniffling, but he hadn't made his niece cry yet, so he was counting that as a win. “Gods, you’re a literal baby and somehow I’m the one wailing at you. So much for decent first impressions, hm?”

Emilia cooed at him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he agreed, nodding his head at his niece. Holding her grew easier with each passing moment. She was looking at him like he was the only person in the universe. 

Leo loved her immediately.

He couldn’t believe he’d been as anxious as he had about holding her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost made himself miss out on this.

 “Pipes, I hope you’re not expecting me to say no to her, ever, because I can tell you right now that it’s not gonna happen.”

Piper laughed. “Oh, please. Your job was never going to be responsible godfather. If that was what I was looking for, I’d have picked someone else.”

“We’re gonna get into so much trouble together,” he whispered to Em, grinning at her. 

This time, Emilia didn’t smile back at him. Instead she scrunched up her face and started crying.

Leo froze.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did, I was just-”

“Babies cry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Piper told him gently. “I can’t believe she’s been as quiet as she has since you two came in, honestly. This is the calmest she’s been since she was born.”

“Oh.” Leo had almost managed to stop crying, but that made him start up again. 

“She cried when I first held her, too,” Reyna told him. When he looked up at her, he could tell some of the tension had gone out of her shoulders, despite the fact that he’d just managed to upset her daughter. “I’m glad she’ll grow up knowing her emotions aren’t something to fear.”

Leo hadn’t even considered thinking about it like that, but it made sense that Reyna would. When he’d first met her, there would have been no way for him to tell if she’d cried—if she’d allowed herself to cry at all.

He looked at her red-rimmed eyes again, the expression on her face genuine and fond, and could immediately feel more tears running down his cheeks. He’d have walked over and hugged her this instant if it hadn’t been for the newborn in his arms.

“Yeah.” Leo sniffled. “Me too.”

He was pretty sure he hadn’t cried this many happy tears since Jason had started reciting his wedding vows in slightly awkward Spanish.

“Can I-” Jason asked, gesturing vaguely towards Emilia. When Leo and Piper both nodded, he took the baby into his own arms, rocking her gently. His expression immediately melted into the world’s softest smile.

Seeing them like this, Leo would have married him again in an instant.

“She’s probably overstimulated. This is the most people she’s ever met in her life,” Jason concluded once he’d managed to soothe her a little. 

“I get it. People are really overwhelming.” Leo wiped at his eyes. “I still can’t believe my stupid sewer rat face is, like, the fifth face this poor kid has ever seen. She did not need to be exposed to sewer rats this early in her life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” Jason protested immediately. “I like your face.”

“You’re married to me. You’re supposed to say that,” Leo teased, but he still found himself smiling. “We should probably leave you guys for the day, hm? You three all look like you could use a nap.”

“As long as you promise you’ll be back soon,” Piper insisted, smiling up at them as Jason—very reluctantly—handed Emilia back to her. “Hi, sweetie. You’re a little sleepy, hm?”

Emilia yawned in agreement.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” Leo grinned at his best friend.

“Thanks for coming here as soon as you did. And, you know, for all the other sappy stuff I’m not going to say right now because I think we’ve all cried enough for one day.”

“Yeah. Gotta save some of that for tomorrow,” Leo agreed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. Then he reached out, gently pressing his finger into his niece’s palm. “Bye bye, Emilia. Be nice to your moms, okay?” 

Her hand closed into a fist, holding his finger tightly. 

Leo let out a startled laugh.

“She’s got excellent reflexes,” Reyna said proudly.

“Yeah, well, I guess that means we’re not leaving yet. I’m really not sure how I’ll ever get out of this finger trap without the ability to turn into an iguana.”

Both Piper and Jason immediately cracked up. Reyna just looked confused. Leo made a mental note to tell her that particular story some other time.

“Anything we should bring you tomorrow?” Jason asked. He looked Reyna over. “Do you want some clothes that aren’t, uh-”

“…pajamas?” Reyna laughed. “Yes. That would be great. I checked the hospital bag about fourteen times to make sure we’d packed everything we might need, but it somehow did not occur to me that we’d be leaving in the middle of the night, nor that I’d need to pack any clothes for myself.”

“I want a large coffee and the least healthy pastry you can find,” Piper said immediately. “Reyna has everything else covered.”

Leo laughed. He reluctantly removed his finger from Em’s grasp, linking his hand with his husband’s as they left.

And, well, if he spent the rest of the evening baking horrendously sugary pastries, that was nobody’s business but his own.

———

Fic Notes:

-Fun fact! I edited this at 3 am last night and then I didn’t even post it because I couldn’t think of a title. It is now, once again, 3 am. My sleep schedule is doing great, thanks for asking.

-The concept of “names have power” is so interesting to toy with specifically in a context like this. Because like, objectively, Leo has had a lot of bad stuff happen to him. He’d never even considered thinking of his name as a blessing before this. But few demigod or legacies lead easy lives, and in the end the thing that outweighs anything else is that he’s managed to find happiness, despite the odds being stacked against him.

-Also, considering Reyna has a prophecy hanging over her head that’s specifically linked to family legacy, it just makes sense for her and Piper to choose Leo’s name. What better way to protect your child from a prophecy than giving her the name of someone who defied his fate?

-Would really like to eventually go into Reyna’s feelings on all this more, but that deserves a whole fic of its own.

-For anyone who’d like context on the Emilio thing, the very basic idea of that being Leo’s full name and him never using it is that his mom always used his full name and he’s terrified he’ll forget what it sounded like if other people use it, because no one ever says it quite like she did.

-Here’s a little fic Juno wrote about Piper finding out Leo’s full name for anyone who wants a little extra context!

-“But canonically his name is Leonidas.” As far as I’m aware, Rick actually confirmed his name is just Leo. Also, this is a fanfic, I can therefore do whatever I want :)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, as always, extremely appreciated.

[myrruwrites]

A winters night.

. . . Caitlyn x Reader.

CW: SFW, a bit suggestive & references to sex briefly, but it’s mainly fluff. A bit of comfort (r!receiving). Caitlyn walks in on you baking her a surprise on your anniversary. :^)

WC: 1.06K | CC: 5.7K | Proofread: No.. | Notes: this is my first time writing a reader x character fic. One of my first times writing romance at all, actually. I normally write warrior cats. But I wanna branch out to my other interests, one of which is arcane. I hope you like it! | MEN DNI.

It’s starting to get late out, the sun setting. The kitchen’s dim candles are the only things leaving the room barley visible, although, you don’t go to turn the main light on. You’re much too busy for that. You’re working hard making a pie for your girlfriend, Caitlyn. It’s Apple and cinnamon, her favourite. It also happens to be the same dish you made her on your first date. You had worried you’d come onto her too hard, but much to your surprise, she was impressed.

While sprinkling the cinnamon onto the apple mixture, your mind can’t help but drift to Caitlyn. "I wonder what she’s doing right now?" you ask yourself. She’s still at work, you’re positive of that. At least you think you are. You shake your head slightly, as if it’d help you clear your mind. You have to finish the pie before she gets home, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You slowly mix the pie filling, folding it. As you do, you notice the time. "7:30.." you murmur, gulping. Caitlyn finishes work at 7:00 on Tuesdays, she’d be home soon. "Shit, shit, shit." you think to yourself, your breath strained. You try to press on, working harder, faster.

15 minuets later, as you’re beginning to plat the top-crust of the pie, you hear the front door creek open. Is Cait home already? She can’t be, you’re not ready. This isn’t how you had planned it. You were meant to present her with a slice of her favourite pie as she came home from work, snuggling up to her on the couch as you play a movie you both enjoy. This is not what was meant to happen, she wasn’t meant to be home yet. Had it been a Monday, Thursday, or even Friday, she’d be home at 9:00. You’d have more than enough time to finish your plan. But on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, you’re not so lucky.

Before you can start to panic, Caitlyn drops her bag off on the couch. She begins to slide off her uniform, and your gaze immediately begins to take in her curves. Her under-shirt rides up slightly, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. You feel almost sad as she pulls it back down, folding her uniform neatly as she hangs it up to wash later. You gulp, caught off-guard.

"Y/N, you home?" Caitlyn calls out, due to you not greeting her. Suddenly, you realise you hadn’t even said hello. You yell out quickly, almost shakily "I’m in the kitchen! Welcome home, honey!". How hadn’t you done that when she first walked in? You always do. Well.. you know why. You remember the sight seeing you did earlier. How could you not? The way her shirt clung to her body..

Your thoughts are cut off as she walks into the kitchen, she reaches for her ponytail, undoing it. Her eyebrow tilts as she realises you’re baking, a soft grin forming on her face. "What’re you making?" She asks, walking up to you. Her arm wraps around your waist, her hair brushing against your neck. "What do you think it is?" You tease, looking down at the pie. Caitlyn scoffs slightly, before tugging your waist slightly, pulling you against her. "Is it really the pie?". Her phrasing makes you giggle slightly, your hand reaching to cover your mouth. As you do so, her hand meets yours, moving it away from your lips. "Now, don’t go covering such a pretty sight."

The air practically became thicker, a slight blush creeping up your neck. She breaks the silence with a quick peck on the lips, as you lean into it you feel it deepen. Suddenly, you break away from the kiss. "I have to finish baking. How about we.. continue this after?" You explain to her about wanting the pie to be done earlier, but forgot to makeup for her early finish from work. She reaches to cup your cheek, turning you to face her. Her thumb strokes close to your lips. "It’s a sweet gesture, don’t upset yourself."

You smile softly, noticing the sincerity in her eyes. She’s really not mad. You start to think about it, why would you assume she’d be mad in the first place? Caitlyn has always been sweet to you, always patient. You kiss her softly, before quickly turning back around, hiding the stunned look on your face. She lets out a small laugh, her hand still resting on your waist. She watches with awe as you bake, "I’m so glad you can cook, because I sure as hell can’t. Thank you for this, by the way."

You don’t turn to face her while replying, clearly still engrossed in baking, "I was planning to make something, it’s our anniversary after all. And the thought of pie reminded me of you." you admit with a smile. "Well isn’t that cute," she nudges your hip, before releasing it. "Let me help you with that." she moves to the side of you, gently taking the pie out of your hands. She bends down by the oven, putting it in with a smile before turning to you, "there, now I can have your full attention."

As the night wares on, you watch a movie with Caitlyn. It’s Scream, a shared favourite. You still flinch every time at the jumpscares, your nails digging into Caitlyn’s shirt. Her arms drape around you before pulling you closer. "Scaredy-cat, huh?", she teases. It causes you to smile slightly, amused by her tone. For the rest of the movie, you cling to her tighter. She mocks you for it, but you can tell she secretly loves having you in her arms. She plants a kiss on your forehead, holding you closer than ever. You start to wonder, would tonight be the night? The night you two finally.. you know. You shake your head, burying it in her neck as the next jumpscare hits. As time passes, your eyes begin to feel droopy, and you can’t help but think you could stay like this forever. Your body begins to relax into Caitlyn’s touch, her hand stroking your hair. She smiles softly at you as you begin to fall asleep, your eyes fluttering to a close.

Maybe another time. Tonight, you just want to be held, and she just wants to show you how much she cares for you.

© myrruwrites.

I hope you liked ittt.. its my first time posting my writing. If you do like it, feel free to request! I really wanna write more, it’s something I really enjoy. I wasn’t quite sure where to end this fic, and I would’ve made it longer, honestly I don’t know why I didn’t. I can always make a PT2 if anyone’s interested. Thank you for reading! Reblogs & likes are appreciated.

[darling-archeron]

@littedidyouknow, surprise! I was your Secret Santa for @acotargiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this fic for you. We talked about how you liked hurt comfort and would change how some of feysand's trauma was handled, so I combined that with some holiday fluff. This is chapter 1/3. I hope you enjoy - happy holidays!

With every solstice, it seems the Inner Circle grows. As Nyx's first solstice approaches, Feyre and Rhysand celebrate holiday traditions, both new and old, while grappling with unhealed wounds.

After a night of fitful tossing and turning, it was safe to say that when light streamed through the bedroom window, Feyre wasn’t ready to face the day.

Between Nyx’s fussing, Rhys’s restlessness, and her bad dreams, she would have been just as well off not going to bed at all. All week, she had felt drained, and last night had been no different.

At least, Nyx was often good about sleeping soundly in the morning. A true Night Court child, it was the late hours that kept him awake. Judging by the slant of the sun – or what she could glimpse of it, through her barely-open eyes – she and Rhys should have another hour of peace.

Rhys, it seemed, had also managed to fall into a fitful sleep at last. Despite his tossing and turning, he had still ended up nestled in her arms.

Right where she liked him. Surrounded by his warmth. Close enough to feel his heartbeat.

She had tried to keep her unrest concealed from Rhys. She wasn’t sure why – they didn’t keep things from one another. She knew he would listen in quiet understanding to whatever she was feeling. But she got the sense he had been feeling the same way – even if he didn’t show it in his waking hours, his fitful sleep was enough of an indication.

Even so, knowing she wasn’t alone in her unrest didn’t stop her from feeling completely ungrateful and selfish.

This time of year was supposed to be for celebration and thankfulness. And yet, here she was, with everything she could want in the world – a family, a home, peace, a loving mate, and a healthy child – and she still felt…discontented. Heavy.

A little haunted.

Gods, she was ungrateful.

More long minutes passed until she felt Rhys stir beside her.

“Good morning, love” he murmured, though he sounded as exhausted as she felt, even as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

She mumbled something barely coherent back, leaning into his touch.

“Sleep well?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding a little more awake. Of course, they were both used to getting up during the night to calm down Nyx when he woke. This was different.

“I’m just so tired,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Did I keep you awake?” he asked with equal softness, pressing her closer.

“No, I don’t think I would have slept either way.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the drowsiness away while cringing against the sunlight streaming in.

Noticing her squint, Rhys flicked his fingers, and the heavy navy curtains immediately snapped shut.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I think I could ask you the same thing.” He had dodged bringing the unrest up as much as she had in past conversations, which was unlike both of them.

“Avoiding the question, are we?” He kept his tone light, but Feyre felt the undercurrent of concern. On a different morning, she might have tried to continue to tease and play, but…she didn’t realize how much of her fear and exhaustion she had been keeping from him. How long until fate tried to tear them apart again?

It haunted her, to think of how they had cheated death thrice. They couldn’t be so lucky again.

“This probably sounds silly, and maybe it’s selfish of me. For the first time in years, it feels like there’s no major disaster looming. Everyone is healthy, and our relationships with the other courts and the continents are going well. I know I shouldn’t be anxious. But it’s as if…for the first time in years – I really have time to think about everything that’s happened. During the War, and after.”

Wordless for once, Rhys just held her, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back.

“I think I’m feeling the same way you are,” he finally said. “Our first few solstices together, the relief was outweighing everything. Surviving the war and everything that came before…”

And Nyx’s birth, too. He didn’t need to say it.

“I just felt so much disbelief that we had made it through, that we had each other. But now…I just keep thinking about all the ways things have gone wrong, all the ways things could go wrong. I know it doesn’t do any good. I don’t want to ruin the present, by dwelling on what-ifs. Perhaps it makes me ungrateful, to still feel grief now. But my mind…it keeps trying to drag me back to times I’d rather not remember.”

“No, Rhys,” Feyre interjected sharply – and she couldn’t deny how cathartic it felt, to hear her own doubts in him. And if she could reassure him – she could reassure herself.

This is what they did. Blamed themselves for things they shouldn’t, patched up each other’s wounds. Held each other through the dark.

It was comforting, to know that she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion. That Rhys was beside her, as he was in so many things.

“I understand,” she continued. “Now that things have settled down. It’s like I actually have time to process some of the things that happened. In a way that…I suppose I didn’t before. I suppose I didn’t want to tell you, to make you feel bad.”

That first solstice, after the war, everything had been so fresh, so new. There had been sorrow, yes, and a sense of loss, but the warmth of love surrounding her for the first time in so long had kept the cold at bay.

Her mate didn’t say anything, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Rhys didn’t say anything for a long while, but she could guess that his mind was half Under the Mountain.

“It’s nothing worth remembering,” he insisted, but she caught the way he stiffened.

Gently, she turned his head to face hers, their eyes meeting. “That doesn’t mean it won’t need a way to come out, one way or another.” If she could save him some nightmares tonight by having this conversation now…

“You’re the one who said you were tired, darling. I shouldn’t be putting on this you.”

She frowned. “Where is this coming from, Rhys? Let me share your burdens, as you share mine.”

Together, as they were in all things.

Still, he frowned. “I…I don’t know if I can right now. Maybe later?”

Rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back, she sent a pulse of understanding down the bond. He hadn’t wanted to talk last night, either, when she had asked him why he was restless.

He would be ready at some point, she trusted, but that conversation wasn’t what he needed right now.

“We can talk about something else. What about other Solstices - when you were younger? How did you celebrate – where did the snowball fight come from?” She asked to get his mind on more pleasant things, but also of her own curiosity. No matter how much she learned of her mate’s 500 years of life, it seemed there was always more to hear.

He considered the question, idly playing with a strand of her golden-brown hair. She snuggled up closer to his comforting warmth.

“When I was very young, my least favorite part was always the court parties I would have to attend. Long, drawn-out events, mostly in Hewn City. Mor and I would always try to sneak off, only for one of our parents or nannies to drag us back by our ears.”

“Your parents let a child attend revels in the Court of Nightmares?” she asked incredulously. She had seen parties there that bordered on orgies.

“Oh, we were sent to bed long before things were that wild. The night felt like it dragged on long enough as it was – once, Mor almost fell asleep, falling face first into her roasted duck.”

“As I’m sure is no surprise, my father wasn’t much of a family man. Certainly not by the time I was born. If it wasn’t for my mother, I’m sure we barely would have celebrated outside the Court of Nightmares. And my mother, for as much as her chosen family meant to her, quickly realized that the strife of getting my father to stop thinking about politics for one day was more trouble than it was worth. When I was training in Illyria, it often got a little quieter around Solstice. For most, it was their only leave for the year. I was one of the lucky ones, with my mother living in camp, and my father occasionally dragging me away for one of his own lessons…”

“What a lucky little High Lord, getting special privileges,” Feyre teased, flicking his nose.

Rhys scoffed. “If you can call sitting through endless meetings in the Court of Nightmares, or being chased through the woods by whatever my father decided to send after me “special privileges.”

“But what I meant was that Cassian didn’t have any family they cared to visit outside of the camps. So there were years when it was just my mother and the two of us – later the three of us, once Azriel showed up. She would make special treats, and always sewed new clothes for the three of us. I wish I could say our gifts were always as thoughtful.” He chuckled. “At the very least, she always made a show of being pleased with whatever we had come up with. Those are some of my favorite Solstice memories.”

She felt his mental presence gently slipping through the walls of her mind, sharing a memory through his eyes, of his mother and his brothers, eating cookies and sharing presents by the crackling fire.

“I swear, I never would have thought such a thing was possible, but after my sister was born, she softened my father. When Celeste was young, there were a few years when the four of us would get together in Velaris. My sister would throw a fit if my father didn’t make some kind of effort to be with us through the holidays – and with anyone else, I would have sworn the holiday would have been better without the prick. But…he was kinder to her. Like he wanted to give her the childhood the rest of us hadn’t been afforded.”

Feyre listened attentively; hand braced gently on his arm as Rhys immersed himself in the years long past. 

“Celeste loved the holidays. Loved any reason to celebrate. Her favorite tradition was always baking, and she’d stay in the kitchen for hours and help my mother and the servants prepare dessert. When she got a little older, she would always try and join my brothers and I during our snowball fights. I would usually tell her to stop being a pest. But Az…he was the good one. He would let her join his team, pummel Cass and I. Of course, we’d always tell him that his win that year didn’t count, since he had extra help.” Her mate smiled at the memory.

“What else?” Feyre asked softly, eager to learn more pieces about the girl she had never met.

“She loved to ice skate. That was usually what the two of us did together.”

“You? On ice skates?” Feyre couldn’t help but interject in disbelief, incredulous at the idea of Rhys gliding across the ice. Not that he wasn’t graceful, but it didn’t exactly fit in with the idea of Illyrian brute strength.

“You doubt my abilities? I was an excellent skater. I’m the one who taught Celeste.”

She pictured Rhys, the dutiful big brother, spinning around on the ice with his sister, faster and faster, both of them laughing and carefree.

“You said you were an excellent skater. Are you still?”

“I haven’t done it in years, but you should know I’m a quick study,” he said slyly.

“Would you want to pick it up again?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why don’t we do all of those things. The skating, the baking,” Feyre suggested.

He didn't answer for a moment, turning over her words, and Feyre was struck by the thought that he might not want part in these traditions with anyone other than his sister, that she was invading on a treasured memory.

Before she could brush her words away, change the subject, a smile played at Rhys's lips.

“You wouldn’t be bored? Doing all of these old traditions with me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not! And…I think it would help me, too, to spend time with you. To just be. I’ve been trying to stay so busy and focused on the future, our future, but…I can’t outrun everything. Maybe, if we can find some time, it could be good. To just be together, in the moment.”

And maybe if they were lucky, the magic of Solstice could bring a little healing to them both.  

"I'd like that a lot. We could bring Nyx along, too.”

“There are three days until Solstice. How many activities do you think we can fit in?”

“You’re in luck, my darling wife. As an early birthday present, I’ve cleared both of our calendars. Now, I’ll admit the activities I had in mind originally were a little more…physical,” he said, and she was very aware of his hand creeping up the side of her shirt, “but…few things would make me happier.”

“Well then, it sounds like a plan,” Feyre said, pressing a long, slow kiss to his mouth.

And for the first time in days, she felt lighter.

[pastryland]

misc completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

🔗 = part of a series (will usually only put fav from series on here)

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

it's lights out and away we go - 106k - ❤️⭐️❌🔥 + Charles/Lando

Lando didn’t make the rookie mistake to fall for a client - they’ve all seen what happened to Lewis and how he burned his fingers on that Rosberg guy. No, he committed a sin much worse than that: he fell for his co-worker. My god, he’s so fucked.

baleine in the bowl - 14k - ❤️ - Lewis/Pierre

Pierre is an aspiring model spending the summer in Monaco. Charles is his roommate, who happens to double as the sugaring pimp of Monte-Carlo. Rent is due and Pierre is running out of options. Enter Sir Lewis Hamilton.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - 22k - ⭐️🔥 + Nico R./Sebastian

Nico's eyes settle back on Seb’s. He clears his throat. “I’m here for the same reason you are,” he says, megawatt smile back on his face. “To win you a title.”

First Place Loser - 12k - 🔗❌ + minor/implied Maxiel

In each team, drivers vie for the position of First Driver, clawing their way through the points. If you're not the First, you're the Second, beholden to whatever form of mentoring the First decides upon. If you're even unluckier, you're the Third and the team principal will deal with you. Idealistically, the system is meant to create more parity in driver training and form strong team connections. In reality, Firsts get the glory and power and what happens next is entirely in their hands.

somebody else - 31k - ❤️❌ (very toxic, but I'm not sure about triggering)🔥 + Lestapstri, Lestappen, Maxoscar, Choscar

Oscar misses the color lilac — the color of the twilight sky behind Charles as they drank wine on Sedici, and the long-faded color left behind on his hips by Max’s fingertips.

winning mentality - 18k - ⭐️🔥 + Gax

It’s not, like, a thing. It’s only happened twice, if you don’t count the time during the pre-season when Max shoved a thigh against George’s crotch, and George, touched-deprived and broken-hearted, let out a sharp gasp and came instantly. Max, looking shocked and frightened, stormed away.

last longer - 10k - ⭐️🔥 + Charles/Joris T.

On Friday evening after practice, Charles will be charming higher-ups at dinner; Joris will be in the belly of Montreal getting Charles’ initials inked on his hip. It’s insane.

my kind's your kind - 7k - ⭐️ + Charles/Nico R.

“You’ll do it again and again, and they’ll name a street after you in Maranello. Two streets. Probably a whole town square, if you do what you’re capable of. Don’t you want that?” Charles nods, his chest rising quicker, his eyes still closed. Nico stretches a hand over the table and lets his thumb brush softly, reassuringly, over Charles’s wrist, digging his nail gently into the bone. “But not,” Nico says, his voice sharper now, and Charles’s eyes crack open, wary, “if you keep behaving like you did this weekend, undisciplined. You can’t just be fast, Charles. You’ve got to be clever. Lewis is clever.” “More clever than you?”

home is where family lives - 36k - ❤️🔗 + some Loscar, Lestappen

In his quest to claim as many home races as possible, Oscar's family starts to grow as well. Or, the social media/chatfic inspired by the recent tweets between Oscar and Charles

i like you a latte - 4k - ⭐️ + Choscar

Alright so, the usual techniques clearly aren’t working. Being nice, being funny, being flirty. Oscar is clearly a pro, and so Charles needs to start using pro tactics. “Didn’t realize it was whore Wednesday,” Max deadpans, as Charles wanders into the shop that morning. “Good morning to you too,” Charles says, ignoring his statement. “How are you? I’m great, thanks for asking.” “No, no, I agree with Max. That shirt demands our immediate and undivided attention, no time for chit chat,” Lando says, appearing over the counter. “Like could you physically undo any more buttons.”

masterpost for all completed fic rec lists

[apollo-just-ice]

Original Fiction

Fictober Day 13 - “that’s not the point”, a vague bittersweet angsty kinda fic about my beloved Willow and Pyg

[tennessoui]

it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏

[cafulur]

Modern / College AU Labru Snippets:

- Laios and Kabru meet as classmates who get paired together for a project, and although they initially clash at first, through the assignment they find themselves clicking in the most unexpected ways.

- After the project is finished, they still keep texting each other. Laios sends Kabru a photo of an opossum that was lurking right outside his bedroom window late one night. Kabru later texts him a picture of a fluffy stray cat that won’t leave him alone every time he walks up his apartment. He initially acts as if he doesn’t like the cat and that it’s bothering him by always following him home, but Laios constantly enthuses over text about how he would love this meet this cat someday. Suddenly Kabru is sneaking this cat little pets and treats in hopes it’ll stick around for when Laios may eventually (hopefully) come over. Before he knows it, Kabru has formed a soft spot for the stray.

- Both of their friend groups mesh and the two find themselves wondering each day when they’ll get to see each other next. They instantly attach in group settings without a second thought, and everyone notices the spark they have going on but them. Laios is excited in a ‘wow this is the coolest, nicest, most interesting friend I’ve ever had!’ type of way, while Kabru recognizes & reconciles with the fact that he’s crushing pretty early on.

- Toward the end of the semester, Marcille hosts a house party, and there’s actually a moment where Kabru sits with Chilchuck on the rooftop ?? It’s an extremely rare occasion and odd for them to ever be alone together, but Kabru had wondered out onto the second floor balcony for some fresh air + a moment to think, and spotted Chilchuck smoking a joint by himself atop the roof shackles to the right of him, just beyond the balcony.

- They watch Laios and a few others down below do something stupid and party related, like chug a drink or eat something fast in one go. It’s mostly quiet between the two up top, save for the few awkward hellos in acknowledgment when Kabru first shows up. Until Chilchuck, of all people, decides to finally break the silence between them. 

“I’d just be straight up with him at this point, if I were you.”

Kabru jumps a little at the unexpected suggestion, glancing toward him with wary eyes. He does his absolute best in every interaction to present himself in a very particular way. Had he been that easy to read all this time?

“Straight with who?” Kabru questions as innocently as he could pretend with a smile, brushing a curl behind his ear.

Chilchuck takes a drag and blows smoke up toward the sky, slightly annoyed but not trying to bite this time around. “Laios. It looks like you want something so bad, but you’re holding back or something. He’s not going to pick up on anything unless you spell it out for him, y’know.”

Kabru covers one of his ears as he feels them burn, looking down into the plastic cup barely filled with beer in his hands. “It’s not— I don’t…” he starts, but feels dumb finishing any semblance of denial. Surprising himself, he caves in, swirling the drink. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose this. His friendship has become pretty important to me.”

“Does Laios come across as someone who would make things awkward?” Chilchuck asks, snuffing out the nub of his joint into the roof and turning to Kabru. Kabru furrows his brow at him.

“Not typically, but I somehow can never figure him out when it comes to things I’ve never tried with him before. Risks with him are truly unpredictable.”

He hums in disagreement, watching the last of the smoke escape the joint before it completely fizzles out. “Eh, I don’t know. Think about it like this. If he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings, do you think he’d have trouble still being friends with you? Laios, being the way that he is, I mean.”

Kabru thinks about it for a minute. Laios really was different from other friends he’d made throughout his life. He didn’t waste time putting up fronts just to save face, and he can’t really pick up on things being awkward for either party. If Kabru confessed and got denied, it would hurt himself mostly, but it wouldn’t rapidly change the air between them. Laios probably wouldn’t want to stop being friends or need time apart just out of awkwardness, which is what one would normally expect after rejection. “I think I get what you mean. I suppose not.”

Chilchuck put the burnt out nub into his pocket to save for a final short smoke later. “I don’t know exactly what all goes on in that guy’s head, but being an observer, I’d think you’d notice by now when he’s actually looking back. I guess it’s easier as a third party.”

Kabru takes a sip of his beer as he carefully considers Chilchuck’s words and watches Laios down below. In that moment, Laios happens to look up and catch Kabru’s gaze, immediately smiling and giving him a friendly wave. It feels like it’s just between them, save for the audience member right next to Kabru witnessing the whole thing. Chilchuck sighs and stands up, dusting his pants off.

“You guys do you. I barely understand my own feelings and how to go about them these days, but if you already know yours so confidently, then there shouldn’t be much stopping you from sharing them. Bottling up seems a lot more painful. It’s hard to watch, anyway.” He stretches before crawling down from the roof shackles onto the balcony. He offers a small wave as he passes by to head inside. Kabru turns to watch him go, saying a soft “Thanks Chilchuck,” as he disappears into a hallway, presumably toward the stairs.

When Kabru turns back around and glances down, Laios is in fact still looking up at him. His face heats up a bit, unsure what to say or do in response, and then Laios is grinning brightly and motioning for him to come and join them. Kabru nods, downs the last of his drink, and then hurries inside, heart pounding in his chest.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

Okay Yellowjackets fanfic readers, I need input. Should I read you stay with the earth?

It last updated in 2022 so my assumption is that it will never be completed which usually is an automatic no from me (falling in love with a never-to-be-finished fic is it’s own kind of heartbreak) BUT it has an insane number of kudos for a JackieShauna fic and I’ve heard it spoken about highly.

So. Should I?

[murmel-malt]

Does Daera have a dragon?

She was given a dragon egg but it never hatched and unlike her brothers she never got a chance to claim a dragon. If she had managed to get a dragon (before her marriage) you can be 100% sure that she would have run/flown off to Essos to live with aunt Saera.

But unfortunately Daera had to learn to get by without an opinion enforcer for most of her life. Having a dragon even later in her young adult life would probably have helped her with her chronic feeling of help- and powerlessness.

I am genuinely considering having her eventually claim Vermithor. 1) because using him to defend her daughter’s crown is a big fuck you to grandfather Jaehaerys and 2) because I think her daughters helping her reclaim some agency in her life by supporting her in claiming a dragon, after Daera spent her life defending Nyra and Daenys’ right to self-determination and agency is kind of beautiful.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

evolution smp 🤝 comics

having a pretty large backlog of content that many people are unwilling to consume before getting into the fandom so they make art/fic/posts from a “solely read fanfiction and not consumed the media itself” space and it results in beliefs about the world/characters/lore that are extremely divorced from the series itself overtaking the fan space.

[sungie]

OHMYFUCKING GOD WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL

i just ran out of tags . THE DETAILS IN HERE ARE SO SO SO DIVINE AND IM. like this is ur suna. i love ur suna

ALSO UR DIALOGUE IS ALWAYS SUCH A TREAT. U GET IT SO WELL. ITS SO HUMAN AND SO NATURAL. ABD THE TEXTS SPRINKLED IN TO ADD HUMOR AND THAT YOUTHFULNESS IS SO SO SO GOOD

to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader

you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.

slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481

It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 

You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 

What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 

So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 

“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 

The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 

You feel sick. 

“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 

You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 

“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 

Suna pauses. 

“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.

A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 

“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 

And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 

“Is that it?” You ask. 

A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 

“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 

As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 

An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 

from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN

from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home

from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow

amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT

from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that

from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 

from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today

from: you (21:12) ?

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION

from: you (21:18) Wht??

from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 

from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN

from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  

You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 

“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 

“Rintar-”

“I like you.”

You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 

“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 

It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 

Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 

You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 

You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 

So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  

amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!

sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice

y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 

sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat.