#Rated G for fluff

[macawritesupdates]

I'm in the middle of the new chapter of malevolence and I know it's probably going to hurt me but right now I'm just cracking up imagining that while sukuna is angsting yuuji is living out his stardew valley dreams, he's got everything a dog a beautiful farm a boyfriend and he's making friends with all the little villagers <3 ... maybe I should stop reading here ... maybe if I stop reading, it'll stay like this, just yuuji happy in his little farm... no pain at all. OK OK I know this is the tragic doomed angst story, but consider ... consider uhhh consider this maybe just this once everything turns out fine ... everything turns out fine and they stay happy and in love. 🥺🥹🥹

I know that's not going to happen but I'm going to pretend until the very last chapter. then I'll cry

Hey, you're still taking prompts, right? You know what if you're willing can I get some serious fluff to combat the tragedy I think an actual stardew valley au where yuuji romances the mysterious monster man in the woods while fixing up his grandpa's old farm would be nice.

The new chapter of Malevolence of Love hits hard and it is only going to get worse I'm afraid ; w ; that is the tragic bad ending story for sure, so in honor of you reading that story... here is the fluff you need asap! I never played Stardew Valley, so just hoping I did well on this short, bite-sized bit of fluff!

>>CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Kindness Makes the Harvest Better<<

[eyesofshinigami]

Alley Oop

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, supportive Wayne, sports talk, Eddie loves Steve

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he's into" (I took it in a slightly different direction, but it was fun!)

WC: 709

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 11

Eddie thought he would get away with it. That no one would know. It could just be his little secret and then he could pull it out and impress Steve and show him that he does listen when he talks.

“What are you doing, boy?” 

Eddie nearly pops out of his skin, throwing the magazine over his shoulder and nearly braining Wayne with it. “What?! Nothing! I’m doing nothing!” he cries out, turning around and trying to act casual.

Wayne raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you acting like I just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?” He folds his arms and pins Eddie with a look. “You know, I already told you I’m okay with you and Steve and what you get up to, as long as you-”

“Oh my god, no, Wayne. It’s nothing like that,” Eddie groans, letting his head thunk against the table. His uncle thinking he was looking at porn in the middle of their kitchen is almost worse than what he was looking at. “I’mreadingaboutsports,” he grits out quickly.

“What was that now?”

Eddie sighs. “I said… I’m reading about sports. Picked up some magazines from Melvald’s.”

Wayne looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “I don’t think I’m following, son.” 

“I’m trying to learn more about sports. You know. For Steve.” Eddie talked a lot of shit about sports in high school, knows deep down it’s not really his thing, but he can’t deny how much he loves how Steve gets when he gets to share his passion for them. For all that Steve talks about how dumb he is, the guy has a brain like a steel trap when it comes to statistics, plays, maneuvers, and players. He can recall how his favorite sports team fared ten years ago, he can calculate a batting average off the top of his head, and he can predict a play that a coach is going to call before the coach does. It’s frankly pretty impressive. How could Eddie not want to indulge that? “He’s been playing in my new campaign and having a lot of fun, so… I thought I would do the same for him?”

Wayne’s lips quirk up in a smile. “You asking me or telling me?” Eddie lets out a noise like a deflating balloon, which makes Wayne laugh. “I’m only picking at ya, boy. But I think that’s sweet. And I know he’ll appreciate it. You ought to see the way that he looks at ya when we’re all watching the game together.” 

That makes Eddie feel a little gooey inside. It makes him happy to know that other people see how happy they make each other. “Yeah. I want to like… understand what he’s talking about. It’s a lot more complicated than getting a ball in a laundry basket.” He chuckles, remembering the rant he sent Steve on when he said that. He’d been teasing, but when he thought back, he might have felt the same if Steve made a comment like that about one of his monsters or a plot he’d come up with. 

See? He’s growing as a person!

“Even if you don’t like it, it’ll mean something to him that you’re trying.” Wayne reaches out and ruffles Eddie’s hair, the same way he’s done since Eddie was a kid. “Y’all are good for each other. I was skeptical about that boy when you first brought him ‘round, but I see it now. You keep taking care of each other like this and it’ll work out just fine.” Wayne bends down and picks up the magazine from the floor and hands it back to Eddie. “Better get to studying. The Pacers game is next weekend and I bet Steve would appreciate a trip down to Indianapolis…”

With a wink, Wayne leaves him be. 

The wheels in Eddie’s head are already turning, thinking about how he can rope Robin into helping him get tickets. Maybe they can make a weekend of it, rent a hotel room and go out to dinner and just be with each other for a while.

Yeah, that sounds excellent. Eddie will get right on that, right after he learns the difference between a bank shot and a free throw.

[2nd2ndalto]

I have a headcanon that all the demigod kids routinely end up in each others beds/cabins at night, because nightmares and trauma and whatnot. So I wrote this smol fic.

~~~~~

There Is Rest and There's You

The first time Nico sees Annabeth leaving the Poseidon cabin at an ungodly early hour (having been dragged from his warm bed by Leo and Jason for an ungodly early errand), he flushes, quickly looking away. Because it's obvious, even to him, that she’d spent the night. But Annabeth merely sleepily raises a hand in greeting and continues on her way back to her own cabin.

Jason, maybe noticing Nico’s discomfort, simply shrugs. “Musical cabins,” he explains. “Happens a lot.”

Leo nods in agreement. “Yep. I had some really wicked nightmares last week, three nights running. I ended up on Jason’s floor. Would have been in the bed, but Piper got there first,” he adds, disgruntled.

Huh, Nico thinks. Musical cabins. That's a little weird.

After that, he pays more attention. It’s not unusual, as it turns out, to find the Apollo cabin overstuffed with various campers early in the morning, rivalling even the occupancy of the Hermes cabin. Sometimes it’s couples tucked in together, but more often it’s friends, siblings. Seeking comfort, and sleep.

It's six months into Nico's stay at Camp when he begins forgetting to lock the door to Cabin Thirteen. He nearly runs Harley through with his sword the first night he finds the younger boy fast asleep in his cabin. But after that, it quickly becomes routine to wake to the quiet comfort of someone else’s soft snoring across the darkened room. Most often it's Will, brushing a warm hand over Nico's forehead before settling into the other bed, but sometimes it's Harley, and several times Leo, complaining that Jason’s bed was already full.

It’s a little weird, but surprisingly nice. Nico begins leaving his door unlocked most of the time.

On a night late in February, the nightmares are worse than usual. Nico wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding, tears welling behind his eyelids. He does what he usually does - dresses quickly, and walks. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of his boots on the ground and the sharp, cold air on his skin that usually settles him.

But the thing is, it’s really cold. And after only about half an hour he finds himself standing in the central green, torn. He can't feel his toes, but he can’t quite stomach the thought of returning to his own empty cabin, either.

His frozen feet lead him up the stairs to Cabin Seven. And gods, it’s warm inside.

There’s a soft rustle of blankets from Will’s bunk.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is soft and scratchy. “What’s wrong?”

The taller boy is out of bed and across the cabin in a heartbeat, reaching for Nico’s hand. Scanning him, Nico knows, blue eyes wide with worry.

Nico shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just - couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, and the concern on Will’s face fades to sympathy.

“The bunk above mine is empty,” he says simply.

And that’s that. Nico climbs up, snuggles in. Will’s messy blond bedhead pops over the edge of the bunk, his smile fond. He squeezes Nico’s arm. “Sleep tight.” And then he disappears.

Nico worries it might be awkward, in the daylight. It’s anything but. The Apollo cabin is a riot of sound and motion in the morning. Austin flings a stuffed turtle at Nico's head. Nico's foot is hanging off the edge of the bunk, and Kayla tickles it, cackling when he squeaks.

“Breakfast time, sleepyhead,” she chirps.

“Sleep well?” Will asks as Nico climbs back down.

And the thing is, he really did.

Time passes. The nightmares wax and wane, but they get easier, mostly.

Until one night in July. It’s almost a year to the day since he came to stay at Camp - Nico thinks, later, maybe that’s why the nightmares hit particularly hard. He wakes shaking, gasping for air, convinced he’s fading again, permanently this time. It scares him so much more than it did when it was actually happening. He shoves his hands against the wood of his headboard, hard, positive they’re going to slip right through. They don’t, but he can't shake the panic.

Nico’s up and out the door in the space of a breath, no hesitation as he makes a beeline, barefoot, for Cabin Seven. The air is cool for July, the full moon shining bright above.

He can feel his panic ease the second he closes the door behind him, soothed by a quiet symphony of soft breathing.

But the bunk above Will’s is occupied tonight, and as Nico's eyes adjust, he realizes all the others are, too.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is a whisper. “Nightmare?” He sits up, silhouetted in moonlight.

“Yeah.” Nico steps closer. “Looks like you’re all full in here, though. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but Will grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You go back to sleep.”

Will gazes at him in the dark, fingers still wrapped around Nico’s wrist. “Or you could stay. Here.”

“There’s no room, though.”

“I have room,” Will whispers.

Nico blinks at Will’s bunk, then back at Will, his stomach attempting to leap into his throat. Will’s eyes are wide, nervous.

“I... um -” Nico begins. He can feel his face heating at the thought of it.

“Gods, di Angelo, just stop talking and get into his bed. Literally no one cares,” Kayla grumbles from the next bunk over. There appears to be at least one Demeter kid in her bed. Maybe two.

Will’s fighting a grin now and he shrugs. Nico shrugs back, then… climbs into the bed. Will scoots over to make room, pulling the blankets over them both. And gods it’s warm, and it smells like Will, and when nothing else calms him, that always does.

Nico lets his eyes close. Then -

“Do - do I feel like I’m fading?” he asks in a whisper, echoes of the nightmare flashing behind his closed eyelids.

Will gazes at him. Then he reaches for Nico’s hand.

“No,” Will whispers. Someone clears their throat nearby and Will grimaces, yanking the blankets over their heads.

“Did something happen?” he asks, his breath brushing Nico’s face.

“No, just - nightmare."

Will nods in understanding. “No. You’re good,” he smiles. He goes to pull the blankets back down, then seems to reconsider.

“That’s um… that’s usually why I end up in your cabin. At night.” he admits, quiet. “Sometimes... I just need to make sure that you’re still solid.”

Nico stomach flip-flops. "Oh."

Will shrugs, sheepish. He pulls the blankets back down, settling on his side. "Here," he says, reaching for Nico's hand again. "Then neither of us has to worry." He tangles their fingers together, reaching out to lay his other hand on Nico's arm, tethering him.

Will's soft smile in the dark is dazzling, and his hands are warm, and Nico worries his own answering smile might just light up the entire cabin.

When he wakes hours later to the familiar sounds of chaos, his head tucked against Will's shoulder, Will's face buried in his hair, well. He thinks maybe this musical cabins thing isn't so bad after all.

Notes

This is a short one! I tried to challenge myself to write something coherent in 1000 words or less. I almost managed it.

It is also my personal headcanon that Harley kind of attaches himself to Nico & sees him as a big brother. This comes up in something else I'm working on as well.

I would love to hear your related headcanons! Snuggly demigods! Sleeping in heaps like puppies!

Jason may not come up much in my fics but please rest assured he is Always Alive.

[desceros]

Idk if you accept requests (which is fine- I'm just thirsty) but do you think you'll ever write more Bayverse Donnue X Reader? That recent fic you did was too cute and the way you write his dorkiness is elite. Ilysm ❤️

will i write more bayverse donnie the people wonder, not knowing my google drive has about twenty more ideas yeah i'll take them! it'd probably be pretty fun to have a little collection going on ao3 for that kind of thing, but i'll post them here until i get enough to pull that together. for now, here's a cute little thing i pulled together for you! hope you enjoy <3 Donatello/Reader, GN!Reader, pining, donnie being a tender dork

“You’re starin’.” 

Raph’s finger pokes between your eyes, prompting you to swat him out of the way. Shooting him a brief scowl, you huff in annoyance. “Yeah? And? I’m busy. Go away.” 

Raph, apparently gunning for the title of most annoying turtle you know, does not go away. He sits next to where you’re leaning on the table, chin in your hands and gazing adoringly at Donatello. 

Donatello who, fiddling with some kind of contraption he’s working on, has his tongue sticking out.

“He’s so cute,” you sigh, a little sick with it. 

“It’s gross.”

“Uh, you’re gross,” you tell him, nose wrinkling. “Don’t you have anything better to do? I'm trying to enjoy this. Make like a tree and leaf.”

Donnie turns the contraption around in his hands, and then his face lights up as something apparently clicks into place in his mind. With a little giggle, he grabs a different screwdriver and gets to work. 

“Oh my god,” you wail softly, hands covering your mouth because it’s too much. 

Raph folds his arms, and you can feel how hard he rolls his eyes. “You ever consider talkin’ to him?”

“I talk to him all the time,” you dodge with the elegance of an elephant. 

“You know what I mean.” He nudges you with his foot, except he forgets a little that he’s a mutant turtle and you are what he likes to call a squishy. 

“Ow! Fucker!” you hiss, reaching out to pinch him. You’re stopped, however, when you hear Donnie calling your name.

“You okay?” he asks, raising his goggles up from his eyes and blinking to readjust to normal vision. His hands have stilled on the contraption, lowering it to his lap as he stops what he’s doing to check in at the sound of your pain. He looks like he's about to get up and come check with his own two hands, like hearing it won't be enough.

Oh, god, you’re in so much trouble.

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine!” you answer sweetly, squawking when Raph’s hand collides with your back between the shoulder blades and knocks you forward. 

“Geez, you’re so squishy,” he says. 

“Hey, watch it,” Donnie says, a frown marring his beak. “You know they don’t have a shell, right? Be gentle!” 

Groaning, Raph rolls his eyes again, pushing away from the table to stand. “Okay, I can’t handle both of ya being like this. I’m out.” 

Rubbing where your rib cage had hit the edge of the table a little hard, you glare at his shell before you look back to Donnie. He too seems a bit miffed, though his gaze gets a little sweet, a little shy when it meets your own. He wiggles his fingers in a tiny wave before he clears his throat, picking his contraption back up with hands that look a little unsteady, like now he can feel the way you’re watching him and it’s having an effect. Sure enough, his glance darts up to meet your own, just for a second before he looks back down, hands working faster and tongue darting nervously over his lips. 

…Oh, yeah. You’re in so much trouble.

[inheartofwinter]

For @drarrymicrofic 's Prompt "Riddles". 412 | G.

It has been months since I wrote any fanfiction. Hope this isn't too bad =v=

What a riddle

“How did I got trapped here?! I was in my room a minute ago!” Harry yanked at hair, face red with frustration.

“What a riddle.” A lazy voice answered him from a corner of the room.

Harry glared at the owner of the voice. The other man was inspecting his left hand's fingers as if it was the first time he saw them. He looked up and smirked at Harry. Harry bared his teeth in reply. “With you, on top of that.”

“What a riddle.” Malfoy's infuriating smile got even broader.

Harry decided that death from fury was not in his list of ‘Acceptable ways to die’ and turned away from Malfoy's annoying figure. Unfortunately, he then came face to face with a not less annoying sight.

On the locked door, there was a sentence carved into the wood. Normally, it was not bad to see it as it contained how to escape the room. Normally.

“And why is the only way to unlock the door is for us to kiss?!”

“What a riddle,” Malfoy nodded.

Harry growled. “Do you know how to say anything but that?!” Harry was going to punch Malfoy if he said ‘What a riddle' again.

Malfoy locked his eyes with Harry, and—

“What a riddle,” he said, slowly and clearly pronouncing each word.

Harry buried his face in his hands and cursed. It didn’t take even a second for Malfoy’s laughter to rang in the room.

Harry glanced at Malfoy from between his fingers. Malfoy was laughing so hard that he teared up. The veil of water made Malfoy’s grey eyes seem brighter, like stars in the night sky. His face somehow looked younger; the sharp line of his cheekbones softer. Touchable and lovely.

Harry desperately wanted to see what that face would look like caught off guard.

So he walked straight to Malfoy, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him.

Harry didn’t stop kissing even when he heard the ‘clack’ indicating the opening of the door. He didn’t stop when Malfoy went weak and pliable in his arms. He only stopped when he could no longer go without oxygen.

“How’s that?” Harry grinned at Malfoy’s bewildered face. “Going to say ‘What a riddle' too?”

Malfoy blinked and looked away. Harry noticed that Malfoy's cheeks were pink. Harry was amazed by how pleased he was at the sight.

Malfoy cleared his throat and pointed at the door. “I guess this time it’s ‘What an answer’.”

[lockwood-fic-recs]

standing in your cardigan

by ScarletSlippers on ao3

Rating: G | Category: F/M | Relationship: Lockwood/Lucy

George shrugs, already heading back to his book. “No idea. I am however, as a result, an excellent knitter. It's rather methodical, really. Soothing, even.”

“So will you help me?”

He looks back up at her slowly, and takes a prolonged sip of his tea, pretending he doesn’t understand. “I failed to hear a clarification in your question. What exactly do you need help with?”

“I need you to teach me to knit.”

Lucy knits Lockwood a jumper.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Yeah, We're Doing Tattoos by TwistedSiren86

@twistedsiren86

Rating: General Audiences

3,870 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: steddie, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, eddie and steve are married, Dad!Eddie Munson - Freeform, dad!steve harrington, Trans Eddie Munson, Fluff, Happy Ending, One Shot, Family Fluff, Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson

Summary:

Eddie and Steve are married with their toddler daughter Lily, who has the artistic muse her father has. So when Lily gets caught drawing on her walls with crayons, Eddie has a better idea.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Tattoo Artist AU.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[saioumaarchive]

"This was it. This was his doom. His downfall. May everyone remember him for what he was. Hilarious. Intelligent. Insanely good looking. And a liar. Amen."

~ Psychiccupid, "Lies On Ice"

It's by Psychiccupid, so you already know it's going to be adorable! In this treat of a fic, Kokichi insists that he's a professional ice skater despite never having skated in his life. When Shuichi calls his bluff via a date to an ice rink, Kokichi's left with no choice but to double down— right?! I adore the author's portrayal of these two being so clearly in love and comfortable with each other. The story is lighthearted and fluffy without being lazy in terms of characterization, and while I would gladly read another five thousand words, I think 2k is plenty of room to have fun with this idea and keep it engaging all the way through. Drop by to leave a comment today!

Rated G 1,864 words, one-shot Published 29 December 2021

~ Mod Equinox

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 TXF Fic Rec #48: "Flight #1539, Inbound from Denver, Will Be Delayed" by Sab

Tipsy Scully at an airport bar, striking up a conversation with a stranger—guess who comes up? Things spiral fast.

This talk!fic hits just the right mix of funny, angsty, and sweet, and ends with an aww-inducing hurt/comfort moment that made me swoon. Sab’s writing shines with beautiful prose and tight dialogue.

---

🥏 on AO3 🥏 on 2close4comfort

length: short, 3,000+ words season: season 6 pairing(s): M/S UST, Scully/Other (sort of) tags: angst, fluff, humor, talk fic rating: G

Tagging @today-in-fic

[guiltipanda]

It's been almost 10 years, why is there not more fucked up Curtwen fanfiction, do I need to do everything myself?

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Fall To Home by Annie1025 Pairing: Gen, Severitus Rating: G Word Count: 5k Harry falls off his broom during the Quidditch match due to Dementors storming the pitch. Severus caters to the aftermath of the (emotional) damage done.

[eyesofshinigami]

Brave

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Love confessions, fluff, so much schmoop

Prompt: From @sidekick-hero "Love is what makes you brave"

WC: 1812

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 7

Steve, admittedly, has done a lot of really stupid things in the name of love.

He hid so much of himself, what he liked, and who he wanted to be to make his parents love him. He was a perfect child, always seen but never heard, the perfect little trophy for his parents to put on display. He thought that was love for a long time. That it was performative, transactional. If he just did this one thing, surely they would love him, right?

Then, Steve forced himself to fit into a mold. He slid on a mask, played a part that was really easy to hide behind. People like Tommy and Carole seemed to love him when he was mean, when he looked down his nose at people they deemed unworthy of their attention. They would laugh and clap him on the back and keep him close, even if he knew deep down that it made him a little sick. And for some reason he still can’t fathom, it made other people love him too. Well, that superficial, surface kind of love where he was still seen as an object, an achievable goal. Be friends with King Steve and you’ll get something out of.

Transactional.

It wasn’t until Nancy that Steve really began to understand what love really was. He threw his whole self into loving her. In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to go all in on something that he still didn’t really have a grasp on, but for the first time, it felt like he was being loved for love’s sake.

Until it wasn’t. Until Jonathon. Until the house. Until the world quite literally turned upside down.

Even with that falling apart, it opened up a whole new world of love for Steve. A new understanding to just what the word meant, the weight behind it when it really matters.

Love is protecting those that matter most. Love is staring down the mouth of a hell creature and still swinging even though your arms feel like jelly. Love is redirecting punches so that they don’t have to hurt. Love is diving into a murky lake into hell to help fix what someone else broke. Love is late night drives when you can’t sleep and the nightmares are too much. Love is admitting that maybe, just maybe, love looks a little different than what you expected it to.

Love is being brave.

All of these lessons, all of these people in his life that showed him that love can be so many things, if only you’re willing to give as much as take.

Which is why Steve makes a decision. It might be a bad one, but he’s learned that sometimes love means having to jump into the fray and trusting that they’ll catch you. He knows, deep down, that someone will, even if it’s not the person he really wants to.

“I’m going to do it. Tonight,” Steve declares that evening as he’s shelving movies. He’s working the late shift with Robin, but has plans to hang out with Eddie later. The very thought of it makes him flush, with happiness and nervousness in equal measure. “I’m going to tell him how I feel.”

It was a slow sort of descent, realizing that he loved Eddie. It started with their talk in the woods of the Upside Down, to pulling Eddie’s broken body out of that awful place, to helping him heal once they realized he might actually pull through. He was drawn to Eddie, drinking him in whenever they were together. He loved when Eddie was loud, or when Eddie was quiet, settled. The fact that Eddie trusted him with the different facets of himself blew Steve away. And Eddie listened when he talked. He listened when Steve talked about sports, or his newfound interest in carpentry thanks to helping Hopper fix up the cabin. He listened when Steve couldn’t sleep, or when Steve got scared about what the future was going to bring, now that it felt like maybe they could actually move on from the nightmare that is Hawkins, Indiana. Little by little, it made Steve realize that Eddie made him happy and maybe a little stupid. The good kind of stupid, the happy kind.

Robin turns to look at him, smiling softly. It’s her soft sort of smile, the one she only saves for him when he’s actually doing something for himself. “Good on you, bud. You’ve only been pining for him for months now.”

“You’ll have a pint of ice cream at the ready in case this goes south?”

“Sure, but I doubt you’ll have to worry,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Now go find something to do before you pop out of your skin. I can see you sweating from here.”

He lasts about another twenty minutes before she lets out a gusty sigh. “Okay, you’re starting to make me nervous. It’s dead in here, why don’t you just leave and head over there now?”

Steve wants to argue. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but she’s right. If he waits any longer, he might just vibrate right through the floor. Once upon a time, he was good at this, smooth and suave and so fucking fake. It was easy to talk to people he didn’t care about, but this? This thing with Eddie?

It matters a lot.

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. I know when I’m not wanted,” he jokes, clocking out and heading out the door.

“Go get your man, Harrington! I expect non-explicit details in the morning!”

He waves her off and gets into his car. The drive takes about fifteen minutes, heading to the little house that Wayne and Eddie got as compensation for their trailer being confiscated for study. Steve’s just glad that Eddie doesn’t have to live in the reminder of where everything went down.

He parks his car and sits for a long, long moment, fingers tight around the wheel and his breath coming in harsh pants. He can do this. He can do this. He can be brave.

“Steve? What are you doing out here? I thought you had work,” Eddie calls from the porch. He must have been sitting out here longer than he thought if Eddie had come to find him.

Steve takes one more big breath before he heaves himself out of the car. “I did, but Rob sent me home. It was dead and she said I was bothering her.” He smiles, trying to ease the angry butterflies he feels building in his stomach. “You good with me coming now? I guess I should have called.”

Eddie smiles, wide enough his dimples pop and Steve wants to feel them under his thumb. “Of course, Stevie. I’m still working on dinner, but you can keep me company.”

Steve eagerly follows him inside, feeling himself relax as he steps through the door. The place is always a little cluttered, a little messy; Steve loves it because it looks like people actually live here. The fact that he’s welcomed into this space makes him feel a little warm and gooey inside. “Thanks, man. What’s on the menu?” He’s babbling, he knows he’s babbling, but he can’t help it.

Eddie gives him a look but answers, “Just some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.” He heads to the stove and starts stirring a pot, the smell of it hitting Steve full force. “You okay? You seem a little off.”

He wants to brush it off, pretend it’s nothing. It would be so easy and he knows Eddie would let him. They’ve learned each other’s tells, when it’s time to push and when it’s time to leave shit alone. Just one more thing that Steve loves about Eddie.

So, no. He needs to say it. For himself, to let go of this thing that he’d been trying to hide for fear of it being yet another stupid thing he does for love. But his love for Eddie could never be that, even if Eddie says no. Eddie will still be his friend, will still love him, even if that love doesn’t look the way Steve wants. He doesn’t expect anything, doesn’t want more than Eddie can give him.

“Uh, well… actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about?”

Eddie nods and sets the spoon down, during the fire down as he turns to face Steve. “I’m all ears, Stevie.”

Steve nods, taking a deep, shaky breath. He can be brave. “Okay, so. Can you… let me just say it? Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” At Eddie’s nod, he continues, “Um, all right. So. Uh. Eddie… I’m… I like you. I like you a lot. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” Eddie’s mouth drops and Steve has to look away, before his heart beats out of his chest and he gets sick from the way his stomach churns. “It took me a while to realize it, but I am. I just… I love you. I love everything about you. Even the weird, shitty parts that I know you don’t like, but they’re part of you, right? And I don’t… I don’t expect you to feel the same, or want me back. It would be great if you did, but like… it’s not why I told you? I told you because you deserve to know. To know that someone loves you because I can’t imagine not loving you anymore.”

There. It’s out there. Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and tries not to count the seconds as they pass. It feels like they’re beating against his ribcage, in time with his pounding heart.

Suddenly, there’s a hand cupping his cheek, gently turning his head until he’s looking at Eddie. The look on the other man’s face is soft, his eyes sparkling and the curve of his mouth small but so so kissable. “Stevie… baby…” The words are like a gut-punch, making Steve weak in the knees. “How could I not love you back, hmm?” Eddie chuckles, his thumb caressing the skin of Steve’s cheek. “Always the brave one of the two of us, aren’t you? I didn’t want to say anything because this… I didn’t want to lose this. If I was wrong, you know?”

“Me too,” Steve whispers. He’s afraid to break the bubble that’s surrounding them, like if he speaks too loud it will break and he’ll realize this was all just a dream or something. “Eddie…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, he just pulls Steve in until they’re kissing, mouths moving against each other softly as they press closer.

It’s warm. It’s sweet. It feels like coming home.

Something settles in him as they kiss, as they touch and move together in this new way. He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He feels like he could fly.

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Dear Simone, I love your TBL fanfic gift; it was it short but so sweet! I absolutely love it! I was hoping that you can do another TBL fanfic request, if you don’t mind. If you agree, could you do a montage fic of Henry, Katrina and the passengers working together on fixing Linus after the whole bridge collapse rescue, please. Do take your time with this, I’m okay with whatever decision you choose, I’ll respect your decision. Thank you and have a good evening.

My dear friend! Your request made me smile - it´s a special moment in the short-film, it is. Well then, I hope you will enjoy what I tried to do with this one. ☺️

Allow me to combine this request-fill with @fictober-event 2024 - day 23 - "we can fix this - I know we can!"

and share with @thebravelocomotivefans

A matter of teamwok

Fandom: The brave locomotive (short film) Words: 1155 Rating: G Summary: Linus didn´t move. His wheels were broken, and his steam dome has burst into a million pieces. It had been too much for the little train. The bystanders stood in silent grief, shocked and excruciatingly afraid to move, as if they might disturb blue train´s last minutes on this earth…

Read on AO3

[2nd2ndalto]

Adventures in Babysitting

Will comes home to discover an unexpected babysitter in his house.

- - - -

(This work is an outtake from Fall Down With You, but you certainly don't need to read one to understand the other)

- - - -

Will drags his feet up the steps to his front door, fumbling and nearly dropping his keys. He’s been at the hospital for so many hours he hasn’t even seen sunlight today. He misses it almost as much as he misses his husband and their infant daughter.

When Will last saw Nico, his husband had looked dead on his feet, eyes more shadowed than Will’s ever seen them, valiantly using the last of his wits and energy to shush and rock and bounce a screaming baby. Nico had still managed a half-smile as Will kissed them both goodbye.

Will’s mom likes to say that Nora has her days and nights mixed up, but Will’s not convinced the baby has any concept of time at all, her naps no more than a long blink and her night sleeps interrupted repeatedly for bottles and cuddles and diaper changes and seemingly random, ear-splitting screaming.

The two of them had decided this was the best plan, when they brought Nora into their lives – that Will would continue with his residency and Nico would take a year’s leave from his post-grad studies. It had seemed so sensible at the time, when it was just the two of them, discussing it all with level heads and eight hours’ sleep every night. Now it feels ridiculous that they ever thought this would be easy.

Nico’s bearing the brunt of it, of course. But then there’s the perpetual ache in Will’s chest that comes from knowing he’s physically unable to help as much as he wants to. And besides that, a fourteen-hour shift seems like an interminable amount of time in the life of someone who’s less than 100 days old.

“She smiled,” Nico had told Will one day last week, ecstatic. And Will had been thrilled, of course, but then he’d promptly burst into tears because gods, he’s just missing so much. Nico had held tight to Will with one arm, Nora in the other, all three of them in tears as Nico tried to reassure Will that this was only the first of many smiles.

Finally managing to turn the key in the lock, Will steps inside, pulling the door shut behind him and lowering his backpack to the floor. The house is blessedly quiet, and he takes a moment to lean against the closed door, eyes falling shut. A moment later he feels himself wobble, head bobbing. He should probably find a horizontal surface before passing out. Toeing off his shoes, he makes his way quietly into the living room. There’s no telling where or when there might be a sleeping baby these days, and they’ve learned very quickly to never, ever disturb one of those.

“Good evening, William,” intones a deep voice.

Will nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns to see his father-in-law - the Lord of the Underworld seated in the glider chair, lit somewhat ominously from the lamp above, their eight-week-old daughter nestled in his arms.

Will clutches at his chest. “Jesus! I mean – Hades! Um – sir.”

Hades rolls his eyes. It reminds Will so much of Nico that he almost laughs. Would have, probably, if he weren't deathly afraid of waking the sleeping child in Hades’ arms.

“There’s no need to call me sir, William. You may call me by my name. As we have previously discussed.”

“Sorry, sir – Hades.”

Will definitely hadn't been expecting company, and he’s suddenly painfully aware of his own disheveled appearance, not to mention the dishes in the sink, the unvacuumed carpet and the coffee table strewn with various baby accessories. He restrains himself from starting to tidy.

“What – um – what are you doing here?” Will stammers. “I mean, not that I’m not pleased to see you, but –”

“My son is sleeping."

Will feels his eyes go wide. “Just – just like a regular sleep though, right? Not, like –”

Hades’ expression softens, marginally. “Yes. He is slumbering. In your – um. Bedroom.”

“And you – you’re –”

“I am babysitting, William.”

“Oh. Wh-why?” Will’s voice comes out higher than he planned.

They gaze at each other for a long moment. Will's so exhausted he wonders if he might be hallucinating this entire encounter.

Hades clears his throat. “My son was badly in need of rest. I believe he prayed to me in a moment of weakness. But I was only too pleased to be summoned to spend some quality time with my granddaughter.”

Will blinks, his tired brain still struggling to make sense of the scene before him. Nora’s dark head is nestled into the crook of Hades’ shoulder, her pudgy cheek squashed against the faces of the damned undulating within his robes. It doesn’t seem conducive to sleeping. But then again, she is a granddaughter of the Underworld.

“Well, um. Thank you,” Will says. “I can take her now though, sir. Hades.” He takes a step towards the god cradling his infant daughter, but Hades shifts the baby, holding her closer.

“You will not.”

“I – won’t?”

“My son tells me you worked many hours at the hospital today. Is this accurate?”

“Well. Yes. Fourteen hours,” Will admits. Honestly, if he hadn’t been confronted by his father-in-law in his living room, there’s probably no way he’d still be upright. His feet and back ache, eyes burning with tiredness.

Hades studies him for a moment. “Sleep, William.”

Will spares a longing glance towards the bedroom. “Really? Are you – are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I do not mind. I intend to stay and offer my assistance until Wednesday morning, at which point your father will arrive.”

Will blinks. “My father? As in… Apollo?”

Hades inclines his head. “Indeed. It is high time that we gods became more involved with our earthly relations. Now, go to bed.”

Will showers first, quickly, just enough to feel he’s gotten rid of the lingering hospital smells. As he pads down the hall, he swears he hears a low, mournful voice singing in the living room. He shakes his head in disbelief.

Will quietly lets himself into the bedroom, heart swelling as he catches sight of his husband, buried in blankets, only a familiar mop of dark hair visible. He climbs into bed as quietly as he can, but Nico stirs when Will nudges close to him. He smells a bit like sweat and sour milk.

“Oh good, now I can sleep properly,” Nico mumbles, snuggling closer to wrap himself around Will. He sighs contentedly, head tucked under Will’s chin, tangling their legs. “How was your day?” The words are hot against Will’s chest.

“It was awful. Nico – your dad is here,” Will whispers, still not entirely sure he didn’t imagine it.

Nico lets out a giggle. He pulls back to gaze at Will, looking a bit guilty.

"The last two days have been a nightmare – I was just so desperate for Nora to sleep. I accidentally prayed to my dad, and he showed up."

Will makes a soft sound of sympathy, brushing the hair off his husband's forehead. "I'm so sorry I wasn’t here. Does he like… does he know what to... do?”

Nico shrugs. "He had her fast asleep within five minutes of getting here. Said he used to do the same thing with me."

"That’s actually kind of sweet," Will says, letting out a laugh of the ridiculousness of the situation. "Do you think he’s using some kind of Underworld magic on her?"

"At this point I kind of don’t care," Nico admits.

"You didn’t try to send her to the Underworld the old-fashioned way, did you?" Will teases.

"I mean. She is kind of a monster."

Will laughs, pulling his husband back into his chest.

"I just… I love her so much, Will," Nico mumbles, suddenly sounding tearful. "I’d lay down my life for her without a second thought. But I – I also just want things to be normal again. I want to sleep in bed with you all night. I want to eat a whole meal without anyone screaming at me."

Will hums in agreement, stroking Nico's hair.

“This is so hard," Nico whispers.

“I know, love. Why didn’t you call me?"

“What were you going to do? It’s not like you could leave work. I know how busy things have been there for you lately. I didn’t want to give you another thing to worry about.”

Will sighs. "It has to get better eventually, right?" he murmurs. "I mean... people keep on having babies. Some people even have lots of them."

"Yeah," Nico whispers.

Percy had told them as much, when he and Annabeth had come to visit last week. Will had tried to ignore the haunted look in Percy’s eyes.

"Anyway," Nico continues, sounding incredulous, "my dad said he was proud of me for asking for help. And now he's got like, a whole lineup of babysitters planned."

Will giggles. "That should be entertaining, at least," he says, trying to imagine his own father calming their screaming daughter.

"One day at a time, right?" Nico asks, already sounding half-asleep.

"Yeah," Will breathes. He's already planning on getting to work late tomorrow, determined to cuddle his sleeping husband as long as possible. "Hey. I'm proud of you for asking for help too," he says into Nico’s hair.

"It's good practice. For both of us. We can do this, right? We can... parent better than we were parented?” Nico mumbles. His words are sleepy and slurred, and Will squeezes him tighter.

“I hope so. It's got to help that we want to, right?”

Nico mumbles something unintelligible, melting into Will, heavy and warm. He presses his nose into Will’s chest, the same way Nora does when Will wears her in the BabyBjorn.

Will relaxes into his husband's embrace, willing himself not to respond to Nora's every peep and sigh in sleep the way his brain has already become accustomed to. Someone else is in charge, for the moment.

Everything is okay.

- - - -

Notes:

1. Thanks ever so much to @anything-thats-rock-and-roll for the beta!! 2. When I was a brand new mom, I had a fantasy that ~something would happen to me - not something terrible, but an accident or injury that would put me in the hospital for a few nights so I could GET SOME SLEEP. It didn't happen. I still survived. :) But man, non-sleeping babies are the absolute worst.

[thegaysofgenosha]

growing pains by ikeracity (part 1 of fosters)

Rating : General

Word count : 12,577

AU : Kidfic

Summary : Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Warnings : None

[inheartofwinter]

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt "Mist". G | 413.

Mist

The world is white.

It’s his first impression.

On a closer look, the world isn't white; it’s misty. Everything is covered in a thick veil of mist: the sky, the ground, himself.

He wanders in the mist, turning his head left and right searching for a landmark – a sign that there’s anything, anyone but him. He doesn’t know how long he has been walking – five minutes and five hours make no difference when there’s nothing to keep track of time. It feels like even if he seeks for eternity, no end will be found.

And then, he hears a voice.

A low, beautiful voice singing from afar. It seems to be calling to him, asking him to come for its owner.

He desperately wants to do as it says, but at the same time, he’s scared. Growing up, he has listened to many folk tales about malicious creatures seducing humans with their voices and then eating them. With how irresistible the voice sounds, he won’t be surprised if it belongs to such a creature.

The voice keeps singing. He can’t hear what exactly it says, but he has a feeling that it’s his name.

What is his name, though?

With a start, he realises he cannot remember. Does he even has a name?

Who is he? Why is he in this mist in the first place?

He’s scared.

The distant voice pulls him to reality – or, as reality-like as it is; he can’t tell anymore. He looks in this direction the voice comes from and gulps.

He is still afraid of the voice and its unknown owner, but keep staying here won’t do him any good. If both choices are just as bad, what there to consider? He might as well try to find the voice’s source. At least, it will sate his curiosity.

So, he chases after the voice. The closer he is, the clearer and lovelier the voice sounds. Somehow, it even gets more and more familiar.

The mist parts, revealing a shadow. A man is standing with his back to him, singing towards the sky. The man gives off a heartbreaking and desperate vibe.

He suddenly realises what the man is saying: Harry.

One word, two syllables. His name.

At the same time, another word pops into his mind. So, with all his strength, Harry shouts.

“Draco!”

Draco freezes. Then, he turns back.

“You’re back!” Draco smiles, joy brightening his eyes.

Harry grins and runs straight into his lover's arms.