#This is pure domestic fluff

[topazshadowwolf]

GoopTales Part 16

Nightmare returns home from his mission with Sci

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16(you are here)

AO3: Ch 1 (1-4), Ch 2 (4-8), Ch 3 (9-12), Ch 4 (13-16)

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With Sci feeling like he had a better grasp of the potion and how to reverse it, Nightmare dropped the scientist off in his lab. The over-the-top display of hugging and kissing his lab and equipment while apologizing for being gone for so long was mildly amusing, at best. Rolling his eyelight at the scene, Nightmare left for home.

It was silent in his castle. He thought for sure he would have heard Killer at least…

He looked at his pocket watch and saw it was past 1300 or 1 pm. Perhaps it was so quiet because they were still having lunch? Testing this theory, he went to the kitchen but saw it was empty. There was evidence that someone had been there, as some dishes were soaking in the sink, but that was all.

Frowning, Nightmare stepped back into the hall. Where were they? He trusted Lyra but couldn’t help but worry… for her and his boys. Searching for the nearest source of emotions, he found them. They were all outside. The bitterness of positive emotions resulted in a soft “tsk” even if he was happy they were feeling good.

Melding into the shadows, he made his way to them and reformed a short distance away before walking up. Before him, he saw that Lyra had set out a large blanket she was sitting on. Horror was cuddled on her lap, napping. Ferrous was curled up with Dust snuggled against him, though he was awake and watching Killer and Cross running around. Those two were chasing those blasted butterflies the boys had insisted on bringing home from a dying AU nearly a year ago.

“Be careful not to damage their wings,” Lyra said. The two chimed back that they would be careful at the same time.

It was… cute… domestic…

He hated to ruin the scene, but he needed to let her know he was back.

“It would be an acceptable loss if they did damage a few… those things have started taking over,” Nightmare huffed. 

Dust looked at him with wide eye sockets, a hint of fear was present until he recognized who was speaking. He started fidgeting with the striped tee shirt Lyra had dressed him in. Looking around, he saw that Killer was in red and white, Horror was blue and white, Dust was green and white, and Cross was black and white. That would be far easier to figure out which is which.

“That just means you need to rebuild the ecosystem of your home,” She chuckled softly.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, then grinned. “Are you hinting that my home is out of balance?”

“I may,” She said with a smile.

“Once things have… settled, perhaps I will consider making this a proper ecosystem,” He replied.

“In the meantime, would you like some lunch? There is plenty left over, as the boys were hoping you would be back in time to join us,” Lyra said with a smile.

“mr. night!�� Two young voices yelled as Cross and Killer came running over. Dust snuggled tighter against Ferrous, and Horror yawned before he nuzzled his face against Lyra.

“you’re back! we missed you sooooooooooooooooooooooooo-” The “o” just kept going for a surprising amount of time from Killer.

“you gotta have some lunch! you are hungry, right?” Cross said as he grabbed Nightmare’s hand and “pulled” the dark guardian over to the blanket. “here, sit, i’ll make you a plate!” He happily announced as Killer started gasping for air.

“-oooo… much!” Killer finished between gasps.

“I did not think I was gone that long,” Nightmare replied with amusement in his tone.

“you were gone for-e-ver!” Killer stated while accenting each syllable.

That made Nightmare chuckle as he used a tendril to pick up the exaggerating child. “If I truly were gone for-e-ver, then I would not be back now,” He said as Killer squealed and started laughing.

Lyra helped Cross get food on a plate as Nightmare sat down with Killer playfully climbing and wiggling around his tentacles like a jungle gym. Dust then crawled over and leaned against Nightmare with a contented sigh. “we did miss you….” He said softly. “we only just met… but it’s like i’ve known you longer.”

“uh-huh!” Killer confirmed as he wiggled his way to Nightmare’s shoulder. The wiggly child then flopped over Nightmare’s shoulder like a towel.

“What are you doing?” Nightmare asked Killer as Cross handed him a plate. “Thank you, Cross.”

“just hangin’ out… oh! try the potato salad! it’s really good!” Killer said as he wiggled around more, standing on a tentacle while leaning over Nightmare’s shoulder to watch what he ate.

“Hmmm, I suppose I will, but not with you leering over my shoulder,” Nightmare replied before a tendril wrapped around Killer’s midsection. He lifted the child off of himself and placed him on his back on the ground. Nightmare started to eat as another tendril then started a tickling assault on the child, remembering that those areas on the feet and under the arms were very ticklish when he and his brother would get into tickling fights.

Sure enough, Killer started to squeal in protest before bursting into unstoppable laughter. He tried to get out a “stop,” but Nightmare sipped his juice casually, “Hmmm? Sorry, I did not hear that.”

Both Cross and Horror watched with giant smiles on their faces, but Dust tugged on his jacket. “please, mr. night… don’t hurt him anymore….”

worry, concern, fear

“I am not hurting him, Dust,” Nightmare said while putting an arm around the small child.

He ended his ‘merciless’ attack on Killer, and the child wheezed and lied there, dazed from laughing but with a smile. Cross then jumped forward and grabbed the tentacle with a laugh. “don’t worry, killer! i’ll avenge you!”

“Oh, will you?” Nightmare mused as Cross pinned down the tentacle and tried to tickle it. He wasn’t expecting to feel much, but those tiny fingers did send a ticklish sensation traveling through the odd limb. It flinched and then started to squirm. That will not do, so Nightmare grabbed Cross with another tendril and proceeded to give him the same treatment he did Killer.

Horror excused himself from Lyra and ran over to help cross. Unfortunately, he forgot there were more tendrils, and another grabbed him. The two children were now squealing and laughing as they rolled around on the blanket.

The positive emotions they emitted stung… but he enjoyed watching them so happy and carefree. Even Lyra started to laugh at the silly little scene of childish joy. All the while, Nightmare casually ate his lunch. Dust grew more curious, but that concern was still there as he didn’t understand what was happening.

“oh no! it’s the tickler!” Killer wheezed as he started to stand up.

“That I am,” Nightmare replied as he pinned Killer down again. Killer seemed prepared and wiggled free and began to tickle the limb.

“Ah! A crafty one we have here!” Nightmare grabbed Killer from behind with a different limb, which started its own attack. Killer still held to the tendril he caught but was so distracted he could not begin tickling. Good… they didn’t need to know he was apparently ticklish after all.

“dust! help!” Squealed Cross. And that did not settle any of Dust’s nerves.

“mr night?” Dust softly pleaded.

Nightmare began to set his plate aside, but Lyra offered to take it. Handing it over, he used the arm around Dust to pull the child onto his lap. Dust squeaked, and Nightmare smiled down at him. 

“I think it is time for you to learn what tickling is. I would say to relax, but you will naturally try to wiggle and squirm. Such is the game of tickling. But I will say, you just need to trust me. Do you?” Nightmare asked.

When Dust slowly nodded his head, Nightmare got a slightly fiendish grin as he wiggled his fingers and then began to tickle Dust’s feet. Sure enough, the child squeaked again and then started to laugh as he began to kick and wiggle.  “No escaping, not yet,” Nightmare teased as he moved his fingers under Dust’s arms, allowing him to better hold the child in place.

Once each child seemed exhausted entirely from laughing, Nightmare eased up on all of them and then took his plate back from Lyra. “I suppose that is one way to calm a roundy group,” She mused, and he just grinned as he started to eat.

“It was how I would get Dream to settle down at times,” Nightmare replied.

“Is that so? And what about you?” She asked.

“I am no longer ticklish,” He replied.

She coaxed a tendril to curl around her hand, then softly touched it with her other. Again, Nightmare felt a ticklish sensation travel through it and to his spine. They have always felt so numb to touch before. He was aware of touch but nothing so delicate and nothing like that. 

That’s when it dawned on him. Intent! No one has intended to tickle him in years. Most physical contact he has is limited to violent attacks and what gentle interactions he might have with his gang or Lyra. Something as playful as tickling, he has not experienced since he was very young.

“I do not know, Nightmare, this limb is squirming like the children were,” She teased. “You might not be squealing and laughing, but I can see you feel something.”

Annoyed she was reading him so well, Nightmare pulled the limb away. “Nonsense. It is simply reacting to a new sensation,” He huffed.

“Hmmm, I am not sure I believe you. I suspect this will be something to investigate further… at a later time… when you least expect,” She teased.

He inwardly denied he was blushing at that, even if his face was warm, “Here I am, trying to eat my lunch, and I am being threatened with assault in my own home?”

“Does seem that way,” She said as she scooped up Cross to place on his lap next to Dust. She then picked up Killer and Horror to sit on her lap.

…

This… 

It was nice…

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next

[aventurineswife]

your angst with aventurine killed me 😭 as an apology, do you think you could write some fluff and domesticity with him? thanks :)

Early Morning Reassurance

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare where he lost you, Aventurine clings to the comfort of your shared morning routine. In the warmth of your kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, he finds solace and reassurance in the love you share. As the nightmare fades, domesticity and affection ground you both in the present.

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Comfort, Soft Moments, Vulnerability, Gentle Affection, Nightmare Recovery, Established Relationship, Reassurance, Playful Banter.

Warnings: Brief mention of nightmares, Kiss, and a lot more kisses hehe.

A/N: AHAHA!! I'M NOT SORRY BUT I'M NOT MEAN EITHER!! So, have some Aventurine fluff to recover from the previous fic 🤭 (He's my fav, if you can't tell). This can be read as a standalone or you can read this before to understand better. Hope you enjoy!

The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow across the countertops as you hummed quietly to yourself. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft crackling of eggs sizzling in the pan. It was a peaceful, lazy morning, the kind you treasured most.

You were focused on flipping the eggs when you felt a familiar warmth behind you. Aventurine's presence was unmistakable, his arms sliding around your waist from behind, pulling you close. His chin rested on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft tickle of his breath against your neck.

“Mmm… you’re up early.” you teased softly, leaning into him as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

“You weren’t in bed,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. “How could I stay asleep without you?”

A smile tugged at your lips as you reached up to place your hand over his, his fingers curling gently against your waist. Aventurine’s touch was always comforting, grounding. It felt like you belonged exactly here, in this moment, wrapped up in his arms.

“Cooking breakfast.” you said, tilting your head slightly to give him better access as he peppered lazy, affectionate kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Looks like a lot of work,” he murmured against your skin, his tone playful. “I’d rather just keep you like this. Forget the food.”

You let out a soft laugh, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. Aventurine, for all his sharpness and bravado, was always soft with you. His gestures, his touch—everything about him when you were alone like this felt so gentle, so far from the calculated risks he usually took in the world outside.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll want breakfast in a few minutes.” you teased, flipping the eggs before they burned.

He chuckled softly, tightening his arms around you. “Maybe. But right now, I just want you.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him, his sandy-blond hair a little tousled, his eyes—those vibrant magenta and cyan—soft with affection. He looked so different like this, without the sharp edges, without the mask he wore so easily. It was just you and him, no gambles, no strategies—just the two of you, wrapped up in the simplicity of a quiet morning.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, noticing the way he clung to you a little tighter than usual, like he needed the closeness more than anything.

For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with something—a shadow of emotion that you almost missed. He hesitated before answering. “I… had a nightmare...” he admitted quietly, his voice so soft you could barely hear it.

You frowned slightly, turning off the stove and setting the spatula down. “What happened?”

He was quiet for a moment, his face pressing into your shoulder as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. Finally, he murmured, “I lost you.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words. Aventurine wasn’t the type to easily admit his fears, but you could hear the tension in his voice, the lingering traces of whatever terrible dream had haunted him.

You turned in his arms, facing him now, your hands gently cupping his face. “I’m right here,” you whispered, your thumb brushing softly against his cheek. “It was just a nightmare.”

His vibrant eyes met yours, searching your face as if needing the reassurance. “It felt real,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. “Too real.”

You leaned up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, your fingers threading through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered against his lips. “Not in this universe, or any other.”

He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he held you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For doubting… for being afraid.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you reassured him, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “We’re here. Together. That’s what matters.”

Aventurine’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the tension in his body slowly melting away. He leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips—soft, tender, filled with the kind of love that made your heart swell.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice barely above a breath. “For being here. For staying.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Always.”

For a long moment, you just stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the soft sounds of the morning filling the space around you. The nightmare, the fear—it all seemed so distant now, fading in the warmth of your shared embrace.

“Alright,” you said finally, a playful glint in your eye. “Now, are you going to help me finish breakfast, or are you just going to stand there and keep distracting me?”

Aventurine chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly. “Oh, I think I’ll keep distracting you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course you will.”

And with that, the two of you slipped back into the easy, comfortable rhythm of your morning, the nightmare nothing more than a forgotten shadow in the light of the life you’d built together.

[hopelessfandomfreak]

agathario have me writing again and I’m very happy about it

[hitlikehammers]

just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[scrollonso]

Cooking — Bezquez fluff oneshot

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows of the house, casting a warm glow over the rooms. A shirtless Marc stood by the kitchen counters, focused on chopping vegetables, while Marco busied himself stirring a pot of sauce on the stove, curls messily pulled back with a clear claw clip with hand-painted flowers on it. Marc had gotten it for him after Valencia, as an apology for the race. The atmosphere was filled with the comforting aroma of garlic and herbs, mingling with the soft hum of the kitchen fan.

"Are you sure this sauce needs more chili?" Marco asked, glancing at Marc for just a second before looking back at the pan.

Marc hummed, his eyes focused on his hands. "Trust me, Ricitos, when am I ever wrong about this stuff?"

Marco stopped what he was doing to look at Marc, almost always. That was the answer, the Spaniard was practically always wrong about this stuff.

"Rude." The shorter man muttered, an exaggerated frown on his face as he moved closer to Marco to put the vegetables in the sauce.

"Lo siento" Marco apologized, the smile on his face audible as he pecked Marc's lips, the frown quickly fading.

The conversations were light, punctuated by occasional laughter as they navigated the kitchen together. Despite their conflict on track, here in Marc's home, they were completely at ease with each other.

On the floor nearby, Rubik sat with his head cocked to the side, watching the two men with intense curiosity. His tail wagged slowly, as if anticipating a treat. Beside him, Stitch and Shira lay sprawled out on the cool tile, their eyes half-closed but still alert to any food that might fall their way.

The house was empty besides the pets and the couple, Alex out on a date with Gabriela so the two had the house to themselves.

Marco laughed softly, Marc's eyes locking on him straight away, the man shaking his head as he added a little more chili to the sauce. "I still don't understand how you cook for fun."

Marc grinned, reaching over to give Marco’s waist a squeeze, settling behind him. "You know you love my cooking, Ricitos. Besides, you’re helping me right now. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have gotten up from the couch with Rubik."

"Maybe I’m just trying to impress you," Marco shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned back against Marc, feeling the warmth of his chest against his back.

Marc’s arms encircled Marco’s waist, pulling him closer as he rested his chin on Marco’s shoulder. "No need to impress me. You already do."

For a moment, they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the soft bubbling of the sauce and the distant chirping of birds outside filling the comfortable silence. Marco’s hand found its way to Marc’s, their fingers intertwining.

"I like this," Marco murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just us, cooking together. It’s... nice."

Marc nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of Marco’s neck, the Italians eyes closing at the feeling. "Me too."

As the sauce simmered and the vegetables softened, the two of them remained close. The outside world, with all its noise and demands, seemed far away, leaving just the two of them in their quiet, shared space.

Suddenly, Rubik let out a small bark, breaking the moment as he stood up and wagged his tail excitedly. Marco laughed, stepping away from Marc, who whined at the loss, to give Rubik a scratch behind the ears. "Alright, alright. I guess it’s time for your treat, huh?"

Marc shook his head, reaching for the treats on the counter. "You spoil him too much, you know."

"Just making sure he’s happy," Marco replied with a toothy grin, tossing a treat to Rubik, who caught it mid-air with practiced ease. Stitch and Shira perked up as well, their eyes wide and expectant. "Don’t worry, you two're next."

As the dogs munched contentedly on their treats, Marc turned back to the stove, giving the sauce a final stir. He watched as it bubbled softly. Satisfied, he turned off the burner and set the wooden spoon aside, then glanced over at Marco, who was busy arranging plates on the counter.

Marc couldn’t help but pause for a moment, just to take it all in — the simple act of cooking together, the easy companionship, the way Marco’s curls, though messily pulled back, framed his face in the most endearing way. It was these moments, ordinary yet profound, that made Marc’s heart swell with an affection he didn’t always know how to put into words, that maybe he was too scared to put into words.

He approached Marco, wrapping an arm around his waist again, pulling him close as they both looked down at the sauce, still simmering slightly in the residual heat. "So, what do you think? Is it ready?" Marc asked, his voice soft, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the peace that had settled over the kitchen.

Marco smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. He dipped a spoon into the sauce, blowing on it gently before bringing it to his lips. Marc watched as Marco’s expression shifted from concentration to satisfaction, a look of approval that made Marc’s own chest warm with pride.

"Mmm," Marco hummed, licking his lips as he nodded. "Perfect." Just the right amount of everything. "Let’s eat."

Marc couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness that came from knowing they had created something together — something so small, but something that meant so much to him. "I’ll get the pasta," he said, reluctantly pulling away from Marco’s warmth to grab the pot of perfectly cooked spaghetti from the stove.

As they worked together to plate their meal, the sounds of their quiet, contented movements filled the room — the clink of silverware, the gentle scrape of the pasta being twirled onto plates, the soft pop of the wine bottle being opened. It all felt so natural, so right, as if this was exactly where they were meant to be. Together.

Marc poured the wine, the deep red swirling in the glasses, catching the last rays of sunlight that filtered through the window. Marco handed him a plate, their fingers brushing lightly, a small, intimate connection that sent a shiver of warmth through both of them.

They sat down at the table, the dogs now curled up near their feet, content after their treats. The first bite of pasta was heavenly, each element perfectly balanced. Marc let out a satisfied sigh, savoring the moment as he shared a glance with Marco, who was equally pleased.

"This might be our best one yet," Marco said, a hint of playful pride in his voice as he twirled more pasta onto his fork.

Marc nodded in agreement. "We’re getting pretty good."

Marco laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. "It’s because we make a good team."

Marc's smile widened at the sound "Better off track than on."

"Shut up" Marco rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the comment. He knew Marc was right, though none of that mattered now.

They continued eating, their conversation meandering through lighthearted topics — memories of races, inside jokes, and playful teasing. Occasionally, Marc would reach across the table to touch Marco’s hand, a small gesture that felt as comforting as it was reassuring. Marco would squeeze his fingers in return, his gaze full of affection that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

As the meal went on, the outside world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their cozy little bubble. The laughter, the warmth, the love — it all flowed easily between them, like a river moving through a familiar, well-worn path.

When the plates were finally empty, and the wine glasses drained, they didn’t rush to clear the table. Instead, they lingered, enjoying the lingering traces of the meal, the soft glow of the kitchen lights, and the simple pleasure of being together. Rubik, Stitch, and Shira had all settled down, their breathing slow and steady as they napped peacefully nearby.

Marc leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting from Marco to the quiet, peaceful scene around them. "You know," he began, his voice low and thoughtful, "I could get used to this."

Marco looked at him, a smile playing on his lips. "I think we already have."

They shared another look, one filled with the kind of understanding that only comes from truly knowing and loving someone. It was in these moments that Marc realized how deeply connected they were, not just as riders on a track, but as partners in life.

Finally, as the evening began to settle into night, they stood up, their movements slow and unhurried. Together, they cleared the table, washing the dishes side by side, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. It was a simple routine, but it was theirs, and that made it perfect.

As they finished, Marco turned to Marc, his eyes bright with a mixture of contentment and affection. "How about we take the dogs for a walk before bed?"

Marc nodded, his heart swelling with love for the man in front of him. "Sounds perfect."

And so, after Marc put a shirt on they headed out into the night, the cool breeze ruffling their hair as Rubik, Stitch, and Shira trotted happily beside them. Hand in hand, Marc and Marco walked through the quiet streets, their hearts full, knowing that no matter where the road led them, they would always have this — these moments, this love, this life together.

[theriverspath]

Ineffable May 2024, Day 30: Us

Rated General Audience

“Would you care to join us for dinner tonight? Crowley’s grilling steaks, and I’ve convinced him to make his famous bread pudding. The whiskey sauce is simply divine!” There was a look of sudden contrition on Aziraphale’s face. He glanced up at Crowley and laid a hand on his arm. “Sorry, dear. I only meant…”

“It’s fine, angel.” Crowley smiled into grey-blue eyes, his heart still fluttering at the casual use of that little word, us. Would he ever get used to it? He laid his hand over Aziraphale’s, intertwining their fingers as he lowered it to the space between them. Behind dark glasses, he shifted his attention back to the woman unloading bags of soil and mulch from her shopping trolly onto the checkout counter.

“Well, who could say no to famous bread pudding?” Crowley chuckled at the amused twinkle in her eye as she replied to the invitation. Carol was one of his favourite village residents. Her wit was as sharp as his, and her devotion to whatever she loved showed both in her gardening and her marriage. “Eileen has Morgan this weekend. That ok?”

“Of course! I’ve got the next Hardy Boys ready for them.” Aziraphale had been delighted to discover that Carol and Eileen’s child was a voracious devourer of children’s detective stories. The two had instantly bonded over it, and the angel had surprised Crowley by lending the kid copies of some of his own.

“Great. I think they’ve read the one they have now three times. I’m sure they’re ready to talk your ear off about it.” Aziraphale beamed at the prospect.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.” Conversation dissolved into general chit-chat as first Carol, then Crowley, paid for their purchases. They parted ways in the garden centre’s car park, promising to see each other again that evening.

Once everything was piled into the back of the Bentley, Crowley held the passenger door for Aziraphale before settling himself into the driver’s seat. About half way back to the cottage, Crowley reached over and brought Aziraphale’s hand to his lips. He brushed a kiss across the knuckles before returning it to the angel’s lap.

“Thank you, but what was that for?” There was a soft smile in Aziraphale’s question.

“No reason. Just enjoying being us.”

-------

prompt list

[kawareo]

Life is a grind, day 4 of @gortash-week ! Relax!

Handjobs, domestic fluff, and Durgetash being slightly disgusting weirdos who have never cohabited before

[jocollins]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Midsummer, Excited Stiles Stilinski, Confused Derek Hale, Nostalgia, nostalgic Stiles Stilinski, Husbands, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, Traditions, Culture Shock, Cultural Differences, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Feels, Dash of Humor, Happy, No Angst Summary:

Stiles is hit with nostalgia about celebrating midsummer, so he decides to celebrate it with Derek, introducing him to all the best traditions.

[nyoomfruits]

uh so i wrote some post bahrain gp lestappen fluff to soothe the aches of charles's dnf ;-;

Charles wakes up when he feels the bed dip beside him, and as he blearily opens his eyes he can see only just make out the shape of Max trying to quietly get under the covers in the still pitch black room.

“Hi,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep, as he turns onto his side to face Max, who startles a little.

“Oh,” He says, as he settles under the blankets and turns to look at Charles. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” Charles says, reaching forward to place his hand on the side of Max’s face, swiping his thumb across his cheekbone. “How was the party?”

“Fun,” Max says, with a little shrug. “Missed you, though,” he says, scooting closer so his knees knock against Charles’s.

Charles hisses. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he says, but he doesn’t move his legs.

“How was your night?” Max asks, voice soft.

Charles can’t help but snort. “Much less of a party, as you can imagine.” Max opens his mouth to say something but Charles moves his hand, pressing his thumb against Max’s lips. “Shh, not a word. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s only the first race. There will be others.” It’s what he’s been telling himself all night. He’s hoping that if he just repeats it enough, at some point he’ll start believing it. That he’ll start believing that this is not just going to be a repeat of last year.

Max stares at him for a really long time, and then seemingly decides to drop it, opting for playfully nipping at Charles’s thumb instead. Charles laughs, and pulls his hand back, settling it on the matrass in front of him. Max reaches over to catch it, but then his cold hands touch Charles’s chest and Charles yelps, launching himself to the other side of the bed, Max laughing as he chases after him.

In the end, after a serious tussle across the sheets, Charles ends up flat on his back, Max hovering over him, having his wrists pinned to the bed as he practically sits in Charles’s lap.

“All right, all right,” Charles says, between laughs, “You win.”

Max smiles, clearly delighted, and leans down to kiss Charles, soft and gentle, before pulling back ever so slightly, their noses still brushing together. “I’m still proud of you, for the race you had. It sucked you didn’t get to be on that podium with us, but you will be, next race.”

And that is the beauty of Max, Charles thinks. It’s not a ‘if Ferrari fixes their issues’ or ‘if your engine doesn’t crap out’. There are no if’s, with Max. Only the unrelenting believe in Charles and Charles’s ability to get the best out of whatever car they put him in.

Charles says nothing, just smiles at him, soft and tender, and presses a kiss to the tip of Max’s nose, which Max frowns at. “Ugh, you know I hate that feeling,” Max says, as he rolls off Charles and flops down next to him.

Charles rolls over to, so he’s on his stomach, arm slung over Max’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. “I know,” Charles says, and then, when Max grumbles at him, “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” Max says, feigning annoyance, but the kiss he presses to Charles’s forehead is undeniably fond. “Now, sleep.”

“Yeah,” Charles says, his eyes already falling shut again as he feels the rise and fall of Max’s chest, the soft beating of his heart. “Sleep.”

In two weeks, there’s another race, and then plenty of others after that. Everything can still happen, though Charles is still struggling a little bit to be positive about it, after the start he’s just had. None of that matters right now, however. All that does matter is Max, pressing another soft kiss to Charles’s forehead, pulling him ever so slightly closer, and then softly mumbling ‘g’night’ as he too closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

[beesbeesdragons]

In the housewife!roy au, I am writing that he does still finish the military academy. he becomes a state alchemist. but he isn't a combat based one. no. he becomes a research alchemist.

he meets riza again, and he learns flame alchemy, and decides "this is my secret to keep, too." instead of demonstrating flame alchemy to the examiners, he shows off his rather impressive knowledge of medical alchemy.

now, the military is aware that he has dependants and is functionally a single parent. they don't wanna have to deal with the mess of paying for a nanny or whoever to take care of a six and seven year old while Roy is fighting in ishval, so instead, he is assigned to work under Marcoh.

now im not done reading the manga (am up to volume 5) so I'm saying that, until order 3066 was signed, marcoh and roy were stationed in central city, working at a lab. marcoh got sent out on field assignments, while roy stayed in central. because roy, who wants to protect the people he loves, who wants to protect his children, is studying medical alchemy.

but when order 3066 was signed, roy got deployed to ishval, where he met hawkeye. riza, who he hadn't been able to talk to in three years. riza, who he believes he failed. and he only finds her again because his alchemy is medically-based, so he's working with doctors and nurses in the hospitals. that's how he meets knox, after all, and maes, and everyone else.

after the war ends, after marcoh deserts, he resigns his post and proposes to riza. he fell in love with her in ishval, and together, he says, they can work towards rebuilding the country. but he can't hurt people anymore.

so riza suggests that, until he can get back on his feet, he stay home. he can take care of ed and al, who were nine and ten by this point. he can teach them alchemy, and he can live. because before? he was just surviving, before.

and he does. by god, he does. he learns to live again, and then he meets a talented alchemist, and decides to do what she does. he's a house-husband first and foremost, but he is an alchemist. and alchemist, be thou for the people.

he starts building up a network of the other parents at ed and al's school. most of them are the wives of military men, after all, and housewives are nothing if not gossip.

and they love him. this twenty-something newlywed with his two nephews who stays home while his wife (riza, beautiful, strong riza) defends their country? how could they not?

and he stays in contact with his sisters, though instead of dates (because he is nothing if not a doting husband and uncle father), theyre his friends. his sisters, his family. as Riza builds her team with Maes, he builds one of the largest intelligence networks in Amestris, big enough to rival even Madame Christmas's, made up entirely of housewives and the working women of amestris, who have always been so invisible that now, now that they're seen by someone? someone who has seen the worst of humanity and can still smile?

of course they support him. why wouldnt they? he's one of them, after all.

[towerartt]

There is something about post-Elpis pre-Jack's ascendency jackothy that is making me soo insane‼️

Timothy is forced to take care of a guy who he had hated from the very beginning, but he has to stick by his side because... why, exactly? Because he signed a contract? Because it seems like the whole universe is after both of them? Maybe he is feeling guilty, like, this should have happened to him. His job was to take the bullets (eridian artifacts?) meant for Jack or whatever. But Jack never really seemed like he needed his protection, that’s the thing. The whole time, he was so stupidly sure of himself. He was also, frustratingly enough, kinda glorious. And maybe Tim resented how cocky he was, and he wished for something to knock him down a peg, right. But, holy shit, not like that.

The mark scares him. He hates aliens, he hates that he doesn’t understand what’s going on, he really hates the way doctors treat Jack. Everybody and their mom want to hook Jack up to some equipment and run tests. Tim doesn’t want to leave him in their hands. They all remind him of Autohn. 

And Jack. Jack hates everything and himself. He keeps thinking about what was promised to him: Hyperion, the Warrior, Pandora, and he knows that, eventually... But for now, his face hurts, and he doesn't feel very heroic. He wants to be victorious NOW he doesn't wanna be in pain! 

And he is non-stop taunted by his unscared face worn by a total stranger. He doesn't even know his name. Recently, his life has been centered around surviving many attempts at his life, and he got betrayed by a bunch of people, so excuse him if he isn’t particularly trusting. He just doesn't get why 21-C sticks around. He must have some kind of underlying motif, but Jack cannot figure it out, which annoys him. Maybe he wants to kill him, but then, what's the hold-up? He should really get on with it.

At least Tim (it does not take much prying to get him to reveal his real name) is a perfect scapegoat to blame all of this on. Lilith is who Jack is truly angry with (understatement of the century), but she is far away, and his doppelganger is right there. If he wants to play nurse, Jack is not going to make it easy on him. 

I just think it is very funny to have Tim try to help Jack all the while that dick does everything in his power to make Lawrence want to strangle him. Timothy is looking over his face, and Jack is like, “So did your mom not love you? You totally act like a guy who wasn’t loved by his mom. Just a casual observation! Don't get your panties in a bunch, jeez.. So, how's the face? Don’t tell me, don't tell me, let me guess. Still screwed up because you couldn’t do your damn job??”

He has Tim pacing around their living room, muttering to himself “I am not the sort of guy to hit an injured man I am not the sort of guy to hit an injured man I am not—”

It is about Jack being humiliated and scared and angry and taking it all out on Lawrence and Tim telling him "it's rotten work. especially to me especially if it's you. I am fucking doing it but christ alive."

[pigeonpeach]

Teyvat’s Cat dads!!

A/n: DISCARD any prior cat content because I genuinely have no memory of it! A more detailed drabble including pure fluff! Also happy new year! I’m spending it in bed with incredible back pain and sore throat >:(

Monsieur Neuvillete

A unexpected cat dad indeed! But the Melusines recently adopted a stray cat causing it to follow them to and from work. Entering buildings and following them even into meetings. Thus Neuvillete met and was adopted by the Siamese cat known as Bubbles due to its love for bubbles. After that Bubbles rarely left his office. Neuvillete was charmed by the little guy. A bold creature but like the melusines it is simply too mad to be at. The kitty has claimed his office as its own now. Thus when the Melusines visit they often are there to visit the cat too. It seems he’s the favorite now of the cat now. Bubbles sits on his desk as he works on papers, often looking like he supervises his work. The cat stays in the office though, it is not brought for trials as it dislikes the Opera house. Bubbles has his own chalice to drink from, as the kitty seems to like drinking out if his chalice. As such he leaves a decoy chalice for them to drink from. He would be irritated but he notices the cat also prefers the same waters as he does. Sometimes even making a disgusted face and ignoring certain flavors. The cat also seems to not be adverse to water strangely enough.

Needless to say this kitty is one of the most spoilt in all of the court. With a adoring dragon sovereign as its guardian and a entire species willing to pet it. This once stray kitty now drinks only the finest of waters but also the finest of fish!

Diluc of Mondstadt

The darknight hero after sneaking away from the scene and to the trails to his home discovered he was followed. Footsteps, light but present were heard. He turned but saw nothing. Cautious he pressed on, now taking a different direction to lead this stalker elsewhere. But when he finally confronted them did he discover a small but trembling black kitten. Its eyes were the only thing in sight. It meowed so pathetically, his heart was caught. He carefully picked it up discovering how small it was. This kitten must have been orphaned, its too young. He looked around finding no more. He noticed the kitty was shivering as he pulled it into his cloak pressing it closer to himself so it could feel his body heat.

Bringing it home was initially jarring for little Selene, a name given by Adelinde as she personally took charge in its care. She took the cat to the vet and discovered it was quite littered in fleas and malnourished. Diluc assisted with the flea bath, petting little Selene’s head in order to soothe her panicked meows. He saw to it that the kitty would be clean of all fleas, expensive shampoos used to ensure if would never have such problems again. As for food, it wasn’t a problem. Diluc would hand feed the kitty warm milk as the kitty really stuck to him. Clearly he was the favorite from the start.

As it grew older it also grew fatter. Selene is a chubby kitty indeed. But it’s partly because Diluc couldn’t refuse to share his steaks with the kitty. So easily does she tug at his strings as he is reminded of how she once knew s life without any of these comforts, so needless to say she is fed the finest of meats and vegetables. She’s a real sweetheart though. She meows often to complain about Diluc’s absence. If he isn’t home she’ll look for him in his office and every room. She’s a black cat so she’s also quite stealthy, therefore Adelinde gifted her a big red bow on her collar so she was slightly more visible. At least it would be easier to not trip on her late at night. When Diluc is home she is usually orbiting around him. She’ll relax near him, in his office she will lay upon his lap purring a storm as she enjoys his warmth and affection. And she takes up a good chunk of the bed when he sleeps, often sprawled out under the covers.

Pantalone

The Regrator is a commanding figure indeed. People shiver seeing him. But surprisingly his cat is his exact opposite. A common orange tabby with a pension for misfit. This kitty is very much more liked than his owner. Named Diamond, this beautiful female is the exact opposite of her owner. She is friendly and quite polite. She is often seen loafing on his lap as he does paperwork. She is mostly kept at his home, if his employees are working hard and he believes they deserve a reward then he may bring her. She’s a delight in the office as she often patrols the break room. She is a plump kitty too. Sometimes accused of being pregnant but she’s really just fat. The staff sneak her treats because she’s just too irresistible. She’s a adorable little lady. With a diamond coated collar, and well groomed coat she is a very pretty cat. There’s even a little white heart on her belly. She’s known for being a stress absorber to him. Even when he is utterly exhausted or miserable does his face visibly change when she jumps up onto his table and meows at him. Her little meow alone is a relief to him. She’s quite soft too. Her fur may get over his black clothes but its fine to him. He likes randomly finding hairs on clothes he hasnt even worn around her.

Pantalone will likely never have any children of his own but she’s close to one. Especially considering how spoiled she is. With new toys almost every day. A wild array of comfy sweaters meant to help her stay warm. To her diet, luxurious wet food. Made to be the most nutritious and healthy food to try to keep her fit. Unfortunately she has a ravenous appetite so if fish is being cooked she will try to take it. Often the private chefs must sacrifice a slice to her. One day Diamond despite his attempts at helping her keep in shape did seems to get really plump. One maid suggested she might be pregnant which immediately delighted him. He adores kittens and the chance to have more little Diamonds running around. He started to prepare for kittens only to find out she was just fat. Poor Pantalone didn’t get to be a cat grandpa but he is actively looking for s suitable tomcat for his beloved Diamond. As he is determined to have more little Diamonds.

[winonaryder4life]

being a fluff girly who likes a smut ship is not for the weak of heart

[gemini-sensei]

miguel x pregnant!reader hcs? like before the baby is born but after she finds out she's pregnant?

Miguel x Pregnant Reader

Fem!Wife!Reader ○ Sweetness ○ Pure Fluff

Send me more cute stuff like this, please. I love it. Any character, any domestic scenario. I love them 💖

He's such an attentive daddy-to-be. He likes to be right beside his wife through the motions of pregnancy. Morning sickness? He's right there holding her hair and rubbing her back. Any discomfort or tension? He'll give her a massage. Late night food cravings? He's in the kitchen with her whipping up whatever she wants.

Wants to start on the baby's room immediately. He already has ideas for it but sits down with his wife to discuss all of their ideas and get a clear picture of something they both want. They decide to go gender neutral when it comes to overall design and theme, agreeing that when they know the sex of the baby they'll get some more traditionally boy or girl items to put in there.

They decide on a cute starry theme and Miguel gets to work on finding all sorts of night sky themed stuff for the room. The walls get painted a pretty, deep blue that will be accented by lighter blues, whites and yellows. Wall stickers of shooting stars and a sign that says "Never Stop Dreaming." Fluffy cloud pillows for the feeding chair and blankets with twinkling stars all over them ✨️

Miguel is the kind of dad who goes all out no matter what and the baby isn't even born yet. He makes sure mama and baby are as comfortable as can be. This gets a bit tricky when the little one starts moving around, though.

He lays in bed with his head level with her growing belly, a gentle hand rubbing it soothingly as everyone is tired and ready to sleep. He has to tell the baby goodnight though, but this leads him to telling them about his day. But as things wind down, he yawns and says, "Daddy loves you so much," before kissing her belly and shuffling up to the pillows and covering himself and his wife with the blanket.

When she gets one of those huge pregnancy pillows, that he bought her because he researched all the benefits of having one, he gets a little pouty. He likes to cuddle and especially now that she's pregnant. He just wants to hold her all the time, but when they're in bed, he can't now.

He wakes up early in the mornings and talks to her belly. He whispers and tries his best not to wake her. However, she eventually does stir, at which point he asks her what she wants for breakfast. He never disappoints, making her whatever she and the baby wants every morning. Even if it's something from a restaurant, he hops in the car and is back in record time with it.

Makes time to be at every doctor's appointment with her. It's important to him to know that his wife and child are healthy, but it doesn't feel right not to join her there. He wants to get to know the doctor and everyone helping them along this journey. If missed even one appointment, he'd feel guilty.

As it gets closer to his wife's due date, he gets antsy and stressed. There's always those last minutes preparations and he's trying to get it all done while keeping a watchful eye on his wife. He's on high alert at all times.

He's so ready for this baby to come and he's excited. He can't wait to meet them, hold them, kiss their little head.

[hiscleric]

SURPRISE !!!!!

yeah... uh, i’m just as shocked as u are!! if u told blythe this morning that they would be dropping a 12k word domestic fluff college au fic i would have LAUGHED in your face !!

long story short; this fic has been in the blythe archives since november, and because i felt bad that chapter two of with honor, we hound is taking a bit longer than expected, i thought i could post something to hopefully make the wait a little bit easier !! the majority of this fic was done already, so i spent this afternoon finishing it off to make it publishable. 

i hope u enjoy !!!!!!!!!! lmk what u think !!!!!!!!!!!

[dragonologist-phd]

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort for Piper and Arue ❤️

thank you! this one was also asked by @silversiren1101, it was a popular choice!

read on ao3

The sun has long since set by the time Piper and Aivu return home, and Piper expects to find the secluded cottage dark and quiet. As Aivu descends from the clouds, however, Piper spies candles burning in the windows, and she quickly guesses that she and Aivu have something of a welcoming committee waiting for them.

She is not disappointed. The moment Piper steps through the door, she’s greeted by a haphazard arrangement of mess and color. A transformation has come over the main room of the cottage, with every surface and scrap of furniture covered in draping blankets and sheets. Piles of pillows stand as makeshift pillars, extending the construction down the hallway and, presumably, to the bedrooms in the back of house.

Piper barely has time to take it all in before a small head pokes out from the canopy of blankets, and a familiar voice chirps in delight, “Mama!”

The child quickly disappears from sight, though the rippling of the blankets betrays her location as she dashes through the quilted maze, until finally she arrives to wrap her arms tightly around Piper’s legs. “You’re back!”

“I am,” Piper agrees, leaning down to return her daughter’s hug. “And what is all this?”

“This is my kingdom,” Iris declares, sweeping her hands out to indicate the blankets. She beams at the announcement of her creation, as proud as any nine-year-old could be. A fond smile comes unbidden to Piper’s lips, and she pulls Iris close to give her a kiss on the top of her head before smoothing down a few flyaway hairs from the girl’s long, dark braid.

“It’s magnificent. Queen Galfrey herself would be jealous.”

“Thanks! Mommy helped me build it. And Laurie, a little, but she didn’t do much.”

“I see. And where is Mommy?”

Arueshalae’s voice sounds out from under one of the blankets, muffled by evident sleepiness in addition to the layers of cloth. “She’s here, trying very hard not to destroy her own hard work.”

Piper crouches down and scoots into the blanket fort herself to find her wife curled against a pile of cushions, arranged carefully and deliberately so that she can sit without disturbing the precarious structure with her large wings. Laurel is curled in her arms, sound asleep, and Arueshalae nods towards the child. “And trying not to wake this one up again.”

Laurel shifts in Arueshalae’s arms, but the younger child has always slept like a log, and even the commotion of Piper’s arrival hasn’t awakened her. That doesn’t stop Arueshalae from cradling her carefully, as Piper leans close enough to give them both a kiss on the cheek. “There you are- I should’ve known I’d find you in the heart of a palace.”

“That’s not the palace, Mama, it’s the enchanted forest,” Iris corrects in an exasperated voice. She points to the knitted tiger positioned at Arueshalae’s feet- a well-loved gift from Seelah. “That’s why Tiger is here.”

“Of course, how silly of me.” Piper says as Arueshalae giggles at Iris’s admonishment. “Now, tell me- is there a kitchen in your kingdom? It’s a long flight from Drezen, and I’m starving.”

Iris perks up once more. “I’ll show you the candy castle!”

She scampers off down the hallways of blankets, and Piper gives Arueshalae a wary glance. “Candy castle?”

“That one was Laurel’s idea,” Arueshalae admits, slightly sheepish. “Our daughter can be very persuasive- she takes after you, after all.”

A distant scuffling noise stirs up near the window, just before Aivu eagerly pokes her head inside. “Did I hear something about a candy castle?”

Candy castle or no, the hour is late, and it’s not long until sleep catches up with everyone. Piper ends the night curled next Arueshalae, with Iris asleep in her arms just as Laurel is nestled in Arueshalae’s. Arueshalae yawns and rests her head against Piper’s shoulder.

“Sorry for the mess,” she murmurs, brushing a long strand of dark hair from Laurel’s face. “You know how restless the girls get. This project kept them entertained for days.”

“Don’t apologize,” Piper says. “Of course they’re antsy, they’re children. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

“You can’t help it- not with all the ruckus still going on. I know that.”

“…Maybe next time, we’ll all make the trip to Drezen.”

Arueshalae is quiet for a moment. “That might be nice,” she finally says, but Piper can hear the hesitation in her voice. “Do you think they’re ready for all that?”

Iris fidgets in her sleep, reaching up to scratch at the stubby horns growing in at her forehead, and Piper strokes her hair until she calms again. Piper smiles as she looks down at her daughters: Iris with her growing horns and silver skin practically glowing in the dim light, Laurel with her rosy coloring and long tail poking out from beneath her blankets.

Piper and Arueshalae have been careful in giving them both some distance from the legacy of the Crusades. The girls know the basics of the story- it would be impossible to avoid the topic entirely- but there is much of the history that has been softened in the retelling. In the thick of Mendev’s bustling cities, the gory tales of war would be bound to find their way to the girls…and then there’s the fact that it’s Mendev. Piper knows things have come a long way for tieflings, she’s made sure of that…but still.

Out here, there is at least a sense of something close to normalcy. Piper just wonders how long it can hold up.

“We can’t keep them hidden away forever,” she says softly. She looks around at the chaos their daughters have orchestrated through the house, and she can’t fight a smile as she nestles closer to Arueshalae. “Besides, I think the question is whether Drezen is ready for them.”