#just like having the comfort of loving my favorite character for over half my life the passage of time for my passions is just...idk

[ilkkawhat]

got weirdly nostalgic in the bath just now and just went to my archive blog and holy shit. i've officially been giffing for 10 years.

[sapphiccup]

SFW MDNI :D soft sevika/goofy headcannons

-I feel like Sevika would give the best hugs, she always kisses your shoulder and sometimes has cute aggression for you so yes she’s gonna bite that very shoulder she just kissed. You don’t ask why and she doesn’t ever bring it up, you’re just chill about it (giggling and kicking your feet that she’s that comfortable with you though)

-She refuses to share her last piece of her favorite meal. Like absolutely not she is not giving it to no one. She don’t care what’s going on that’s hers to keep. If anything else she will gladly feed you or give you half of her portion so you stay full.

-Sevika would let you know new things about health requirements you should tweak for your routine of life. Because she fucking loves you like duh. She wants you to live comfortably and well, and longer with her.

-She hates icecream, she used to love it but now its just too damn cold for her teeth so why bother? But she does love it when you eat ice cream and kiss her afterwards, loving the sweet taste coming from your lips, and if it’s her favorite flavor that kiss is going to be longgggg

-You have separate blankets, she runs hot, and steals the covers OFTEN somehow? Regardless of her being hot asf she loves taking the covers. So instead of arguing every night about it and her apologizing in a delicious way (morning head) you both decided it’s time to just get separate covers. You sleep with your many pillows and she sleeps with her cooling cover. Ofc you still get morning head whenever you’d like to she’s not taking that away from you unless you would like for it to stop. She will stop as long as you tell her.

-Sevika loves kittens, she sometimes nurse them back to health when she sees an abandoned kitten on the streets of Zaun. Always coming home with a stray in her arms and you prepping the kitten nursery again, cause you just can’t say no to her puppy eyes.

- She pouts often around you when you haven’t paid attention to her as much as she’d like you to. She respects your space but trust and believe me she pouts somewhere in the house that she either hasn’t gotten a kiss from you or flirting.

- She likes keeping you on her lap a lot, arm around your waist and her resting her head in your neck, inhaling you in.

- She talks fast when she’s nervous around you and mistakenly bites her tongue.

-She loves kissing you but she especially loves kissing your ears so you giggle in her arms.

- Sevika loves hearing you yap you have a nice comforting voice to the point where she finds herself falling into a deep sleep. It makes you upset and you think you’re boring but genuinely it’s not that.

- Sevika seems like she listens to asmr 😗

- She sneaks around the house watching your favorite shows to get to the good parts without you knowing, so she can threaten to spoil the show if you try to spoil her favorites

- She has these monster claw slippers that she walks around the house, they are so cute she adores them to bits!

-She likes being pampered and especially pampering herself to regain some control in her very busy life. Her favorite part to do is her skin care routine and she likes painting her toe nails black

- she sleeps with a neck pillow 😚

-Sevika pinches your cheeks whenever the opportunity arises

- and lastly Sevika likes playing the walking dead series, and wants you to watch her play as she shit talks about the characters,

“This bitch molly just took my battery.. fuck molly. Bitch ass. Taking my shit like I didn’t just almost get unalived several times for that. —-Baby, this why we don’t fuck with people named molly”

“I wouldn’t trust her anyway look at how she act” You’d respond sharing the same distaste for her disliked character.

You have had arguments over her choices though because you know you be dead right about something and Sevika doesn’t like being wrong when it comes to her favorite game (that she just started playing but hey it’s her favorite now)

A/n: I was up all night again so I wrote this ‘bout sleepy asf writing this 🥱😴 I’m sleepy rn lmao. I didn’t proof read this so I’m slowly going to edit this! (I lied I am not editing this LMAOAOOAOAOO )

[trinityobsessesovatings]

Oh My God~! {ARCANE REACTION}

ARCANE CHARACTERS' REACTION TO YOU IN THE VIRAL TIKTOK NIGHTIE!

characters included; VI, CAITLYN, SEVIKA, MEL, and PAP-i mean JAYCE

CONTENT WARNINGS: suggestive themes, cursing, first time writer probably bad punctuation 😔 and lowercase 😔

i would just like to say; thank you to anyone who gives this a chance and reads it! this is my first time actually like, posting anything like this so this is completely out of my comfort zone. feedback is so very much appreciated.

enjoy! 🥰

////////

vi 

speechless pt.1

girl was cooking you guys a nice lil dinner 

i headcanon that she’s actually an amazing cook

i mean she got music playing in the background on low, the lights in y’all little apartment are dimmed

it wasn’t a special occasion or anything she was just feeling like y’all deserved it

she was in her little zone, humming along to song, bopping her head to the music, occasionally actually singing along to whatever she was listening to

then she hears your feet patting along the floor, when she turns around and sees you she deadass drops the plate that was in her hand

JAW DROPPED TO THE FLOOR

y'all know how she could NEVER stop looking from cait’s eyes to her kirammountains

YUH that was her with you, BUT ALL OVER!

you giggle to yourself, as you look at yourself in the mirror. ‘Oh yeah this is definitely gonna go somewhere!’ you thought to yourself, then proceeded to practically skip out of your bedroom.

CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF!

you cute little nightie is ripped up and you guys are down one plate

congrats 😜

caitlyn

ever since your babygirl became a dictator i mean commander 🤭 sorry y'all 

she has been stressed and had to keep beating maddie off with a stick

she’s pulling the pearl; “I’M MARRIED!” 👹

so you decided to pull the classic show up to her place of work covered in a overcoat

caitlyn already knows what you’re up to and she definitely wants that cookie

she saw the nightie in your drawer the other day

but she’s still gonna let you have your moment

“I got something to show you, baby.” 

you tell her being all… seductive, prepared to surprise your girl.

she deadass hit you with a

“that’s nice, love!” 😊

you’re not impressed 😐

that’s alright though you got something for that ass

guess she just has to make it up to you for ruining the surprise 🤷🏾‍♀️

sevika

stress pt 2

speechless pt 2

half of me wanted to make this based off before she joined the council

but i said NAH make it post war councilwoman sevika

anyway

this WOMAN 😩 stay coming home about ready to crash out after having to deal with the other idiots on the council

this poor woman comes home, grabs a bottle of liquor, and lights a cigar

not before cracking a window though, you got on her for that shit and she would rather not face your wrath again

happy wife, happy life am i right or am i right?

ANYWHO

big mama doesn’t even know your home, it's so damn silent

then you strutting into the living room hitting this pose right here

i’m talking; cigar falling out of mouth, bottle booze hitting the floor with a thump, and she’s standing up and walking towards you like she’s under a spell

i’m telling you if this woman wasn’t so speechless AND stoic

she for sure would have let out an “AWOOGA!”

y'all ended up breaking the couch by the way… and dining room table

mel

deadass… y’all had the same exact idea!

like same idea, same day, YALL EVEN GOT THE SAME EXACT SLEEP DRESS

but both of y’all were giggling at the fact y’all both thought the same thing

literally went something like this:

“I have something to show you!~”

you had called from the closet

“Well I have something to show you as well~!”

she would say from the bathroom

then bam you both see each other and are like 🤨🤭🥴💋

like y’all both went all out

mel got body gold shimmery body glitter on, you got your hair did that morning, you both got on each other’s favorite perfumes on…

yeah y’all both matched each other’s freaks fr

jayce

never in my time of watching this show did i EVER think i would write for this man

but pookie lowkey got me rn… that black fit he wore for like 10 minutes in that one episode

YEAH I NEED THAT, I CRAVE THAT 👹

let's get back to our regularly scheduled program sorry about that y'all 😰

so you and jayce have been locked in since BEFORE the whole hextech explosion

LAWD when you heard your man was in the system 

OPEN THE CELL LET MY MAN OUTTA JAIL

is what you were saying

you were at his hearing in front of the council

almost had a heart attack again when they almost banished him

but look at y’all now!

he the man of progress and you all like:

“dats mine” 😌

THEN he calls you talkin bout some

“oh i'm a councilman now.” 😊

that’s when you decided

“yeah it’s time to give this man the ULTIMATE gluck gluck 3000 with the hextech upgrade”

he comes home from his first day as part of the council and this right here

🧍🏾🥴

because there you are

lights dimmed

rose petals scattered

glasses of champagne

nightie ✅ floor length robe ✅ makeup on sultry ✅

yeah he laid it DOWN on you that night

ready to congratulate your man

next thing his mama, the kirammans, and the council know:

he and his NOW fiancée are expecting

CONGRATULATIONS 🥳

////////

hope you enjoyed! ○( ＾皿＾)っ Hehehe…

[scriptseekstories]

Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 2- Bee in a Wasp Nest

A/N: Okay, so things will pick up next chapter, just have to set up relationships and personality for Bee!Reader and other characters. And more fort as to what your mother’s research actually does and what she did.

Kinda made yall like Mirabel from Encanto and Laios from Delicious in Dungeon ngl

~Years Later~

Bees were your friend. They work with each other and protect their home. When you had another rough day of school and a torment from Damien, you could always count on the hive planted on your window to keep you company. They had always been your friend.

Sure you had human friends at school who are weird as you, but they just don’t know you like bees. They comforted you at low times, watched over you when you slept, and gave you so. Much. Honey.

The days were somewhat better after years since you were first taken in by the Waynes, but you wouldn’t never say your life got better. You were still pushed aside but your so called siblings, ignored by your father unless you were in trouble, and tormented by your demon brother Damien.

The harsh words, the aggressive shoves, the brutal chases away from his dog Titus, you didn’t know if being mugged was better than living with him. You even considered the other’s snarky comments about you whenever you bumped into them were more bearable.

“Don’t they have anything else better to do than bother us?” You once heard Tim scoffed when you wanted a seat from the kitchen while they had dinner, Stephanie humming in agreement as Dick laughed it off while others didn’t even answer him. Yeah… they all had dinner together while you were in your room eating alone.

Buzzzzz

My mistake, you never ate alone.

“Hey, my beauties,” You slid your window up carefully to avoid crushing any bees that were too slow. You clutched the flower pot in your hands as you stared at at their strong hive, seeing that honey is almost ready.

“I got you some flowers,” You spoke as if the bees understood you, but maybe they do understand you. They never stung you, they always perched on your nose or hand, and they always seem to make your day a little brighter.

“Today we have Lotus flowers on the menu,” You sighed while resting your cheek on your hand, watching the bees snuggle into the petals and collect the pollen. You adored your grown hive, tending to your little creatures for years as you seen generations after generations of bees live past.

Each Queen bee you’ve seen are as beautiful as the last, and you adored how hard she keeps her drones and workers happy. ‘Wish I was your worker bee,’ You hummed deeply before checking your phone to see that it was only 3.

You had time, so you quickly shut the window, apologizing to the bees who were startled before grabbing your travel bag and wallet, stumbling out of your room and racing down the long stairs, where your favorite butler was cleaning the couches.

“I’ll be back Alfred!” You called out to the butler as you attempted to fight your coat into staying on you. Alfred smiled before wincing when you accidentally slid on the carpet and crashed into the umbrella stand.

You had always been a klutz, crashing into objects, tripping over air, even one time accidentally taking out half Gotham’s power. (GCPD and Batman assumed it was an attack by a villain, and Alfred had the love for you to not narc)

“I’m okay!” You called out while stumbling to stand up and attempting to fix the umbrella stand, finally having your coat on before shutting the door behind you. Alfred merely shook his head and smiled softly while truly fixing up the stand as you left all the hats and umbrellas on the floor.

“May Master (Name) always have that bright smile,” He mumbled, before going back to cleaning the couches, just as he quietly check on the carefully written list full of your birthday wishes he had in his pocket, smiling.

You inhaled a deep breath of the Gotham air, which may sound disgusting but since you lived in the rich part of the city, the air was cleaner than most. That thought made you sad for reasons involving people and insects, not much are capable of fixing the air in order to thrive in.

Which is why you must do what you need to do.

Looking around, you concluded none of the family were outside, so you took that chance and crouch around the bushes in the front, and pulled out your skates. Why would you hide them outside instead of your room? Simple, there’s just not enough space in your room.

You replaced your bed frame with a hammock so you could fit your desk for school, you had a small closet boxed with childhood accomplishments and awards, and walls completely covered in posters and research papers.

Yet it didn’t bother you one bit, for it was your safe space, your haven in a house that wasn’t your home. You shoved your foot into your skates, wobbly standing up and securing your ground before rolling down the driveway.

You pushed yourself down into the big city of Gotham, avoiding walking pedestrians and taking turns left and right. Each person you passed by, you always greeted with a bright smile and waved at them, to which they couldn’t help but smile back.

In a place like Gotham, it’s rare to have genuine smiles and kindness that you apparently had. You decided it was best to still show a smile to all even though your life wasn’t that great either.

Why let the darkness and grim life consume you when you could still bring a light to others? That’s what your mother taught you. Sure, it was hard to keep on showing that sweet smile of yours day after day being neglected and tormented by the Waynes, yet you had to.

For your mother.

Each street you rolled into, the less citizens were present. That was due to the fact you were skating right into the heavy crime side of Gotham City. Yet you didn’t stop, in fact, your smile grew as you now saw the figures of the neighbors who all were familiar on the news.

“Good evening, child,” “Though you bit the dust already, kid!” “Avoid that pothole, (Name),” The various voices you heard as you skated pass them, where you stumbled upon the banged on concrete and avoided the destroyed roads that even the toughest tires would get deflated.

“Hi, Dr. Crane!” “Still kicking, Mr. Dent!” “Sharp as always, Miss Kyle!” Each calls towards a villain may have civilians run for the hills, however you on the other hand was either not afraid of these top baddies, or stupid to know your life could be in danger.

It might’ve been the latter, as your anxious personality prevented you from reacting like a normal person. So instead when you first stumbled upon the villain side of Gotham, you didn’t run away. Instead, you used all the fake confidence you had and strutted inside, greeting each criminal, thug, villain, or henchman with a smile.

Needless to say, some were baffled, others were amused, they wanted to see if you would still smile after witnessing them take your teeth out. But alas, there was one particular criminal that had them all to back off, dare they try to harm you they would have to answer to-

Ding

You pushed the door to a shady rundown flower shop, the tiny bell ringing to indicate your presence. Digging into your bag, you pulled out a wad of cash Alfred provided you ever since middle school since you needed permission from jobs to work, and you didn’t dare ask Bruce, so Alfred provided.

“My sweet little Bumblebee~” You looked up with a smile at the sight of the woman who provided you with flowers. Her rose red hair always stood out amongst the plants and flowers, her pale skin kissed with hues of green, and her dark green outfit flowed and tangled with the vines lowering her down from the shadows of the flower shop.

“Hi Miss Ivy!” You held out the bills for her as she lowered herself down and gracefully grabbed them. She placed her feet on the floorboards and leaned against the counter, counting the money with a grin.

“Glad to hear that my flowers are being praised by your little creatures,” She sighed, sensing all the plants you bought being tended to by the bees and other insects who craved the sweet aroma of her plants.

“Miss Ivy, you think you could pre-stock some marigolds for me around a week in advance? I think I actually might have gotten a breakthrough! Just on time for my birthday!” You excited rambled off, jumping in one place like a child as Ivy handed you a bag of seeds just as you paid for.

“Really now?” She grinned, “Well, here I give you a special treat for an early birthday gift~” Using her vines, it reached deep into the hall behind the counter that was suspiciously covered in shadows before it emerged with a box.

“Thank you, Miss Ivy,” It was a nice steal box, knowing Ivy would never use wood for anything. It had carved bees on it and honeycomb patterns. You were about to open it when Ivy placed her green hands over yours, giving you a wink. Right, open it on your birthday.

“Like I said, anything for my little Bumblebee,” She cooed while booping your nose, “It’s only fair to assist the bee’s savior, which also extends you being the flower’s savior too~” Her vines curled at her words, sliding up to you in an attempt to pet you, to which you backed away quickly.

“Ha ha ha…” You let out a nervous laugh, voice cracking midway which made you wanna internally die when you heard Ivy cackle as you walked out of the door, skating down and almost hitting Bane.

Being so deep into the crime filled side of Gotham, Ivy believed you to be stupid and had a death wish when you first came into her cover store. She decided to spare your life when all she saw in you was a clumsy and pathetic ridden teenager who just wanted to actually buy flowers from her.

You amuse her so much. The moment you ate shit in front of her little shop had her hooked immediately, and she fell in love with you the moment you rambled on about the relationship between bees and flowers.

You skated along the roughed up sidewalk, waving goodbye to the residents of this crime filled area. Never actually saw crime here, as you guess Batman had them on a leash.

‘Batman… why couldn’t you have saved her,’ You held to resentment towards the Dark Knight, yet you weren’t a fan of him either. He was just… someone who couldn’t save your mother.

You finally made it to your location, just as the sun shined perfectly down into the building you worked so hard inside.

An abandoned warehouse just right at the edge of Crime Alley. The warehouse that your mother worked in with her team before it was attacked by a crime boss. You moved all her papers and results inside to avoid questions from Alfred or the others.

You grunted while pushing the collapsed door to crawl under, before grasping a power generator and jerked it around. With a simple puff of smoke, the whole place lit up with dim lighting and additional fairy lights you added for personal touch.

“Right, time to get started,” The closer you walked through the warehouse, the louder a buzzing can be heard. Sunlight peering through a skylight, in the middle of the building lay a garden, with flowers planted by Poison Ivy herself and a garden gate built in by Scarecrow.

Inside the garden? Your mother’s bees. The ones that she nurtured for her researched, the genetically modified creatures that made it through everything. You smiled with pride at the fact you kept them alive for this long, generations of bees lived in your care.

Digging through your bag, you pulled out your laptop and an empty jar, where you set them down on a lab table. On the table sat an old tv with a VHS player. Grabbing a tape from the top, you inserted it in and opened your laptop as the video began to play.

“Project: Honey. This research study may very will be the next step in animal kingdom history. We are here to investigate the potential for genetic modification to enhance the physical capabilities of the honeybees, rendering them more resilient to climate challenges and better suited for urban environments to grow our managed earth,” the static voice of your mother rung out in the warehouse, causing the bees to buzz in an almost harmonious way.

“For years, we have concluded that our genetically modified bees are able to gain more muscle mass that not only increase their flight, but their defenses, speed, and strength. Our results have tested our bees to collect 35% more nectar than the average bee, and provide more pollen over a whole continent!” The excitement in her voice made you smile. You really do miss her.

You turned on bunsen burners, tubes filled with essences of the hive and honey made from the bees, listening to each VHS tapes that your mother recorded. Just like what you’ve been doing since you turned 10, you realized you had to do more than tend to the genetic bees.

You had to continue her work.

“However, the side effects to potentially playing god among the bees are a serious risk to take for the better of world. We just need to-,” Yet a harsh SSSSHHHHH sound popped up as the final tape wasn’t fully finished, and it cut off while only playing static.

You turned it off after hours of work, stretching your limps with a satisfied feeling. You rested your arms on the table and turned a picture frame that held a photo of you on your fifth birthday, with your mother in her lab coat holding you in her arms, both of you happy.

“Just one more week, and I’ll finally complete your dream Mama,” You smiled softly at the photo, gently kissing your fingertips and placed them over her face. Everything you’re doing, all the hard work, it was all for her.

She may be gone, but you’re still here. You’ll complete Project: Honey and help humanity your own way. You’ll be a hero, just like what your mother would’ve wanted, be more of a hero to the world like Batman is to Gotham.

It was currently 10, and you had to hurry home before Alfred came up stairs to check on you. You decided to take a cab home and after a solid 20 minutes, you made it home than you usually do when on skates.

You slid your skates under the bush, made sure your jar of honey made by the genetic bees were sealed in your bag, and opened the door. You saw Alfred serving your plate, yet you knew it wasn’t going to be set on the table with the others.

You walked closer to the dining area, seeing that all of the family were together, eating and talking amongst themselves while smiles on their faces.

“Hey… don’t mind me…” You awkwardly shuffled to the side, slowly reaching for a honeydew, then your plate Alfred gave with a sad smile, before mumbling a “sorry” and running back your room, cringing at the interaction. It was as if they forgot you lived here and are uncomfortable with the thought of seeing you.

Just as well, you were just as uncomfortable making small talk to them as they are even looking at you. You didn’t care, right? Yet you still felt your heart ache with hurt. They never seem happy to have you talking to them.

You opened your door, setting the box Ivy gave you on your desk and the jar of honey down as well. You sliced the honeydew into slices and took one to the window, sliding it open to see the bees perching on the sill, almost like they were waiting for you.

“Hello my loyal royal subjects!” You joked with a proud look on your face, though the way the bees didn’t buzz at you, they weren’t impress with your humor. You gave an awkward laugh before placing a slice of honeydew on the windowsill, where the bees practically burrowed into the fresh sweet fruit.

You smiled with joy. Today wasn’t that bad, yet it still wasn’t enough to have you reassured yourself that you belonged here.

The next day you needed another ripe honeydew that Alfred bought you. You peaked from the stairs and nodded when no one was present in the kitchen. Taking long strides from the stairs to the kitchen so you could get back upstairs faster, you grasped onto the fruit when a tsk was heard.

“You don’t belong here, you know that, right?” Dropping the honeydew due to the familiar voice, you dreaded turning around to see Damien, arms crossed and leaning back against the kitchen island. It seemed he was eager to mock me and waited for me to come down like a weird predator.

“Yeah… don’t need to mention it every single day…” You nervously nodded, crouching down to grab the dropped fruit, hoping it would still be fresh enough for your beloved bees.

“I should, because it doesn’t seem that you got it through your inferior mind,” He scoffed, grabbing the honeydew before you could retreat, “You’re not special. You’re nothing but mundane and simple, not worthy to be on the same stone as us,” That damn smug look on his face made you wanna shove that honeydew up his-

“Right, and you supposedly are with your cool sword skills and emo energy,” You muttered, snickering to yourself as if you said something cool. Which you did, of course! However Damien didn’t find it funny as he scowled you suddenly felt pain on your stomach. You hissed in pain when he threw the honeydew at you.

“Watch your mouth, inferior! I am the perfect offspring of the Al Ghul and a Wayne! You don’t belong in the Wayne title!” He snapped, hands twitching as if he was ready to call Titus on you. Fear shot up your spine, making him smirk at the look in your eyes. But what he said, about being a Wayne, anger took over your fear of his damn dog.

“Well, good news, brat! I don’t want a title that makes me as egotistical and stuck up as you guys!” Your voice might’ve been shaky, but this was the most confrontational you’ve ever been towards anyone, it caught Damien off guard with how offended and angry you actually sounded.

“I’m not a Wayne! I’m a Raine, and I don’t need a brat like you destroying what I have left!” Grabbing the now bruised honeydew, you pushed Damien hard. It may not have actually made him fall down, but he didn’t fully expect you to physically touch him, so he stumbled back a little.

He looked at you like you had the audacity to put your hands as valuable as him. His eyes darkened as he didn’t bother to call for Titus, he let out a shout before lunging at you.

You both fell, you pushing his face away with one hand as you held onto the honeydew so Damien wouldn’t use it to slam it against your stomach again. Alfred heard the stumbling of chairs being pushed and shouts in the kitchen, causing him to race in just in time to see Damien scratched your eyes.

“Master Damien!!” He was appalled at the sight, quickly pulling you out of his reach. In a flash, Dick, who was right behind Alfred, held onto Damien and pulled him away as he cursed at you and struggled like an angry cat. A mangy, ugly looking cat.

Dick managed to calm Damien down, but then gave a disappointed sigh before looking at you, giving you a look as if you were the one causing problems and he was tired with you. As if he even had the time to know you and get tired with you.

“You shouldn’t have talk to Damien like that, he doesn’t know better, (M/N)!” He scolded you with a tsk, where you didn’t even bother to mention that he completely butchered your name, “You have be apologize,” You stared at Dick in utter disbelief.

You? Apologize to Damien?! You let out a scoff as you stumbled to stand up, seeing the now ruined honeydew crushed by Jason who gave you an unimpressed look, crossing his arms which added more humiliation.

“L-Like hell would ever apologize to a stuck up baby! He started it!” You stammered, voice cracking in a way that didn’t help your situation as you saw a grin on Steph’s face, about to mock you. Cass merely gave you a look like silently saying that you were to blame.

“Stuck up baby? Look in the mirror,” Tim remarked, nudging Duke, who looked uncomfortable and was about to speak up, but deep footsteps made everyone freeze. Bruce stared at Damien, who was being held back by Dick, and then you, who quickly avoided eye contact and clutched onto Alfred’s hand tighter.

It might have been foolish, stupid even, to think that Bruce would come to your aid, to comfort you and scold Damien for attacking you. But you knew the truth. You never mattered to him.

“Go to your room,” He demanded with his sharp eyes staring at you. “Now,” You felt awful, sick. Every time you get in a tussle with one of them, Bruce will always come in defense to them. Every time you get blamed, you would be sent to your room alone. And every time you see his eyes, they’re always filled with nothing but annoyance and disappointment.

As if you were the one causing a nuisance in their perfect family, as if you were the intruder insect that invaded their hive, as if you were nothing but an obligation. Slipping your fingers out of Alfred’s hands, you tried not to cry.

“Fine,” You whispered, legs pulling my body up the stairs, not daring to look back to see Damien’s stupid smug smirk and the disappointing head shakes from Dick or the snickering from the others.

Your room felt smaller, more closed off than the other rooms. Why did you choose it again? Right, it was because you weren’t wanted by the family, hence you didn’t deserve being in the family hall.

You heart your heart twist with hurt and anger, as if you could open your mouth and vomit all the hate and rage building up inside you. Sliding up your window, you watched the sunset from over the garden, where the bees began to settle down and perch over your hand.

Alfred will be coming up to give you your dinner and stay with you. But even with the company of Alfred, he wasn’t strong enough to get through the family, he wasn’t enough to bring the love you craved for years. Despite it all, he was still a bee that works for Bruce.

You concluded a long time ago that this wasn’t a beehive, and you weren’t an invasive insect. No…

This was a wasp’s nest, and you were the bee they taken for consumption.

Buzzzzz

At least your hive will free you one day.

A/N: Yep, you in fact do have villain friends. Yet they don’t know your current situation since you referred to yourself as Raine, never Wayne.

Hopefully they would help you when things get low. They may be evil, but they’re not monsters (just ignore the comic accurate villains lol. And joker)

Taglist: @jellystar-star @moom0goddess @pix-stuff @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @bad4amficideas @degenerates-posts @deathbynarcisstick

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you do Conrad with ‘’Is that my shirt?’’

This was the only gif I could find with this shirt...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It had been thirty minutes since you, Taylor, and Belly settled in front of the TV, yet the three of you couldn't come to a unanimous decision on which movie to watch. Well, truth be told, the indecision was mainly between you and Taylor. Belly was happily munching on popcorn, seemingly unfazed by the movie debate.

‘’Mamma Mia,’’ Taylor exclaimed, advocating for the musical movie choice once again.

However, you were quite tired of musicals and Taylor's less-than-perfect singing renditions, especially after enduring La La Land the night before. 

You shook your head. ‘’No, let’s watch 10 Things I hate about you.’’ 

It was one of your favorite movies. You weren’t a huge fan of rom-coms, but the romance was not too cheesy and the soundtrack was immaculate. Kat’s character was also iconic. You’ll never get tired of watching it.

But Taylor persisted, insisting that Mamma Mia would be a perfect summer movie. She looked to Belly for support and the look on Belly’s face told you you were about to lose this debate.

‘’I haven’t watched Mamma Mia in a long time…’’ 

Feeling somewhat defeated, you let out a sigh, realizing you were outvoted. ‘’Mamma Mia it is then,’’ you reluctantly agreed.

Taylor happily set up the movie, grinning and singing along to all of the songs. 

You were half way through it when the front door opened and the boys returned from their party, making a lot of noises as always. 

‘’Seriously, can you guys keep it down? We're trying to watch a movie here,’’ Taylor scolded them, clearly irritated by their untimely return.

‘’What movie?’’ Steven asked, making his way into the living room, seemingly eager to pester Taylor further.

‘’Oh, is that Mamma Mia?’’ Jeremiah’s face lit up, going off and belting one of the songs as he poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Jeremiah's enthusiasm. He truly was the life of the party. 

‘’It’s girls only, get out,’’ Taylor asserted, determined to keep their movie time uninterrupted.

‘’I want to watch it too,’’ Steven and Jeremiah protested, plopping themselves on the couch next to Belly and attempting to snatch the popcorn bowl from her.

‘’Absolutely not,’’ Belly retorted, holding onto the popcorn tightly, not willing to share.

Steven's attempt to mockingly tease her was met with a sharp comeback from Taylor. ‘’Did you grow tits while you were at the party, Steven?’’ 

Everyone burst into laughter at Taylor’s witty remark, even Conrad who just entered the living room, walking over to the other end of the couch where you were sitting. 

He sat on the length of the chaise, stroking your bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss. 

‘’Did you have fun with the boys?’’ you asked, your attention no longer on the movie.

Conrad shrugged. Being the designated driver sucked…and so did that party. No wonder they came home so early. He would have prefered to stay here and hang out with you, but you had already made plans with the girls. 

You stretched and laid your legs over his lap, settling comfortably into the couch. Conrad shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He liked the weight of your legs over his, the casual intimacy of it. 

Your attention was brought back to your friends when Jeremiah and Taylor began dueting ‘Lay all your love on me’ as if they were part of the movie. Taylor still couldn’t sing, but Jeremiah wasn’t too bad. You smiled at them, amused by their antics, and Conrad smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin. 

A few scenes later, his attention was drawn to the navy Cousins rowing shirt you were wearing, and he raised an amused eyebrow. ‘’Is that my shirt?’’ he inquired with a grin, realizing it belonged to him.

You hummed. It was slightly oversized on you, but incredibly comfortable. ‘’We went swimming and I wanted something comfortable to wear after.’’ And it smelled like him. ‘’I hope you don’t mind.’’ 

Conrad shook his head. ‘’It looks good on you.’’

—

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[goshikisbaee]

Spending Valentine’s Day With Haikyuu Characters (part 1)

[ Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi ]

content: Fluff

———

TŌRU OIKAWA

Valentine’s Day with Oikawa is nothing short of extra. From the moment you wake up, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers waiting for you with a note in his neat handwriting: “For the most beautiful person in my life.” He insists on making the day perfect— though his definition of “perfect” may include a little too much of his dramatic flair.

He shows up to pick you up in his favorite casual but classy outfit, grinning like he’s just won a championship match. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you, my love?” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He takes you to a cute café where he spends half the time holding your hand across the table and the other half bragging about how he managed to snag the “best date” in the world. The barista can’t help but roll their eyes at his antics, but you can’t stop laughing.

In true Oikawa fashion, the evening involves stargazing—because of course he has to incorporate something romantic and dreamy. Lying beside you, he points out random constellations, only half accurate because he’s too busy sneaking glances at you.

“I dont need the stars when I’ve got you,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Cheesy? Absolutely. But with him, it’s always endearing.

The night ends with him pulling you close, a soft, genuine smile replacing his usual cocky grin. “Thank you for being my Valentine,” he whispers, his voice quieter than usual. “I promise, you’ll always be my number one.”

HAJIME IWAIZUMI

Valentine’s day with Iwaizumi is simple but meaningful. He’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but he makes sure you feel loved in the ways that matter. When you wake up, there’s a nearly wrapped box on your nightstand—inside is a practical yet thoughtful gift, like a hoodie that smells like him or your favorite snacks. “Didn’t wanna get you something useless,” the note reads.

When he picks you up, he’s dressed casually, but you cant tell he put in a little extra effort—his hair is styled just right, and he’s actually wearing that nice cologne you love. He greets you with a gruff, “you look nice,” before quickly looking away, ears slightly red.

Dinner is at his favorite spot—nothing fancy, just good food and a comfortable atmosphere. He doesnt gush over you like someone like Oikawa would, but his small actions say everything: making sure you get the last bite, keeping his hand on your knee absentmindedly, sending a death glare at anything who looks at you for too long.

After dinner, he surprises you with a late night drive, ending at a quiet scenic spot. Sitting beside you, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at the sky. “I know I dont say it a lot, but… I’m really lucky to have you.” His fingers find yours, squeezing them gently.

Before you part ways, he pulls you into a warm, lingering hug, resting his chin on your head. “Happy Valentine’s Day idiot,” he mutters, voice softer than usual. You smile, knowing that even without the over the top romance, every moment with him is real.

TETSURŌ KUROO

Valentine’s Day with Kuroo is fun—because, of course, he turns everything into an opportunity to tease you. You wake up to a text that reads; “Happy Valentine’s Day to my favorite nerd. Yes, you’re my favorite. No you can’t tell anyone.” A few minutes later, another message: “wear something cute. Not that you need help looking good, but, you know… for my sake.”

When he picks you up, he greets you with his signature smirk and a ridiculous gift—maybe a cat plushie because “it reminded me of myself. Handsome, charming, and definitely your favorite.” But before you can roll your eyes, he hands you something real—your favorite snack or a small thoughtful present that proves he actually pays attention.

Dinner is at a casual yet surprisingly nice restaurant, where he spends half the time making flirty comments and the other half pretending to listen while secretly just admiring you. “You know, I’d let you ramble about anything if it means I get to keep looking at you.”

After dinner, he takes you somewhere unexpected—maybe a late night arcade or a rooftop with a city view. Sitting next to you, he finally drops the teasing for a second, nudging your shoulder before saying, “you know, I joke around a lot, but I mean it when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Before the night ends, he pulls you into by the waist, looking down at you with that lazy grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Hope you’re ready for many more.” And with that, he finally gives you the kiss he’s been holding off all night.

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

Valentine’s Day with Bokuto is non stop excitement from the moment it begins. You wake up to a spam of texts:

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!!”

“WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS???”

“IT’S THE DAY I GET TO SPOIL YOU, DUH.”

When he finally picks you up, he’s practically bouncing with energy, holding a massive bouquet—probably way bigger than necessary. “I didn’t know which flowers to get, so I got all of them!” He grins, handing them over like he just won an award.

Your date is a mix of everything fun—he takes you to an arcade, a cute café, and maybe even a spontaneous adventure like ice skating (which he’s surprisingly good at). Every few minutes, he reminds you, “BEST. DAY. EVER.” And insists on taking a million selfies.

At dinner, he’s a mix of loud excitement and soft admiration, stuffing his face one second and staring at you like you hung the moon the next. “I’m so lucky,” he sighs dramatically between bites, before pointing his fork at you. “Hey. You know that, right? That I love you?”

The night ends with him wrapping you in the biggest hug ever, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. “Best Valentine’s Day ever,” he declares, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Then, with a cheeky grin, he adds, “same time next year? Actually, scratch that. Every day should be like this.”

KEIJI AKAASHI

Valentine’s Day with Akaashi is quietly romantic, filled with soft gestures that show just how much he cares. You wake up to a neatly written note left at your bedside—“happy Valentine’s Day. I hope today is as wonderful as you are.” A little later, he texts: “Are you free? I have something planned.”

When he picks you up, he hands you a small but meaningful gift—maybe a book you mentioned wanting, or a handwritten letter sealed in an envelope. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “so I just got something that reminded me of you.”

Your date is simple but perfect—maybe a quiet bookstore café, a scenic walk, or a cozy home-cooked dinner. He pays attention to everything you say, responding with soft hums and amused smiles. “I love listening to you talk,” he admits, twirling a piece of his food with his fork.

At the end of the night, he lingers at your doorstep, eyes gentle but hesitant. “I, um…” He exhales, gathering his thoughts before finally meeting your gaze. “I just want you to know that I’m really, really happy with you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, lips curling into the faintest smile. “I hope I get to spend all of them with you.”

———

💋 💋 💋

[lieutenantfloyd]

Hi! I'm fairly sure you're taking asks at the moment but feel free to ignore this if you aren't. But would you consider doing a "How they'd react to you on your period" but for the top gun: maverick characters?

How they react when you’re on your period (Headcanons)

Includes: Rooster, Bob, Hangman, Cyclone, Maverick, and Phoenix

Warnings: fluff, domestic bliss, mentions of pain, blood, marriage, and general domesticity— Reader is gender neutral but has a uterus

Authors Note: Life decided to get wild for a minute so this accidentally sat half finished in my drafts for a month and a half along with a Cyclone request I'm now working on again. Also, I included a headcanon each for Coyote and Fanboy at the end as a bonus :)

Rooster:

Bradley, as much as he tries, is still very much "A Guy™"

He's not malicious and he's far from incompetent, he just genuinely doesn't understand what you're going through

He's hesitant to ask questions, so instead he just pays extra close attention to you

If you like to cuddle, he's all over it

And if you don't, he's always lurking nearby, waiting for you to need him

Either way, he's noticing everything, and he's kinda horrified

Once your relationship is fairly progressed, he'll pull you aside and ask all the questions he was too scared to ask before

He wants to know all about your symptoms, emotions, and any way he can make the time a little less miserable

Rooster is such a family fan, and once he has a grasp on what you need, he's jumping head first into action

He shows his affection by being strong for you but also accidentally super clingy

Like he’s genuinely not letting you leave his sight

He's still a little hesitant at first about upsetting you or getting things wrong, but he's the type of man willing to do whatever he can to keep you happy

He isn't the best cook, but he tries

Do you both end up eating cereal for multiple meals? Yes

Does your teasing being met with his apology kisses make them the best bowls of cereal you’ll ever have? Absolutely

Will 1000% get you your favorite snacks though, even if that means making an emergency trip to the store at midnight because you offhandedly mentioned something

Bob:

Your sweet darling angel Bob has zero clue what's happening or how to help, but he's determined to try his absolute BEST

If your relationship is still new and you're staying together when you get your period, this man straight up thinks you're dying

Like obviously he knows how this works—far more than other guys you’ve been around, because that's just how Bob is

But he lives his life always a bit on edge and has a massive tendency to panic

So his mind instantly goes to worst case scenario aka there’s been an accident and you're now bleeding out

He just loves you SO MUCH and he is SO SCARED

It takes a bit of effort to calm him down, mostly in the form of kisses and reassurance, but once you explain everything he's good as new

…minus his still racing heart

Bob is the type to bombard you with questions when he's concerned

"Are you comfortable?" "Are you hungry?" "Do you need anything?"

May or may not accidentally propose when he's initially worried (even if you're already married)

Now you’re both slightly panicking, cuddled up in bed together looking at rings or your wedding album

Bob takes his role as your partner so seriously, and just wants to feel useful in any way he can

You might spend an almost equal amount of time comforting Bob as he spends comforting you, but it nonetheless gets your mind of things

Relationships are about give and take, and a life with Bob is sweet as pie

Hangman:

Hangman, despite his flirtatious personality, is the type of guy parents want their kids to end up with

He’s a total l lover boy at heart, priding himself in keeping you happy at all times

That means he's shockingly well prepared for this, and is genuinely confused if you didn’t think he wouldn’t be

To him it’s basic stuff, simply just “what a good boyfriend does”

And if you try to explain how men typically are about periods, he’s looking you dead in the eyes and saying, “We both know I’m one of a kind.”

The argument pretty much ends there, and he’s right back to being boyfriend of the year—this time without your questioning protests

Shortly into your relationship he’ll ask you out of the blue about your needs and preferences, and ever since then has kept them STOCKED

To him you're the #1 priority, and making sure you have everything you need to be comfortable is just as intuitive for him as knowing what size clothes you wear or adjusting the air conditioner on your side of his truck as soon as he gets in

He'll take it upon himself to make everything he can control as calm and stress free as possible, with laundry is done, dishes washed, and dinner on the table before you can even think about it

If you're feeling up to it, he'll take you on cute little dates to get your mind off things

He stays hyper aware of you the whole time, ready to whisk you away if you start to feel bad or you’re social battery is suddenly empty

He’s physically clingy by nature, and that only triples when he thinks you need some extra love

He's 120% committed to being a gentleman to you always, so he won’t ambush you with cuddles

but he will open his arms any time you look even vaguely in his direction :)

Cyclone:

Whether you're dating, married, or even just friends with benefits, this man is nothing if not a provider

If you are in any way connected to him, he has made it abundantly clear that you are to call him whenever you need anything—no matter how insignificant

He's admittedly out of his element when it comes to periods, but he’s a grown man, competent enough to admit what he doesn’t know and not let that phase him one bit

On days when time got away from you and you’re now out of pads/tampons and the store is closing in thirty minutes, he's in his car the second your text comes through

He’ll show up at your door in under an hour, carrying multiple packs of exactly what you need, along with groceries for the week and frozen yogurt from your favorite shop across town

When you question him about it, he simply says he does it “because he can”

Choosing to conveniently leave out the fact that he knows you have a busy week ahead, and not having to worry about getting to the grocery store is an easy way for him to take a little bit of stress off of your plate

He’s the type to have meticulously organized notes in his phone that list all your favorite things, what's on your wishlist, your go to restaurant orders, etc

This comes in handy not only when he wants to spoil you (which is always), but also when you’re not feeling well and are in need of some extra love and care

Like Phoenix, you’re his number one priority, and knowing something is off triggers both his protective and caregiver tendencies.

He will do anything he can to make your life easier, and gets genuinely angry at the thought of you having to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary

He's shockingly big into quality time, and loves to spend nights with you on the couch or in bed

He runs insanely warm, and while you often joke about him being the human equivalent of a space heater, your complaints become nothing but praise when you have cramps or just want a comforting hug

In the same vein, he gives the best massages ever

His hands are big and just as warm as the rest of him, plus he's strong with fingertips just rough enough to feel great against your skin

He’s not the type to ever bombard you with his presence, but if he’s not working, he’s more than happy to spend all the time he can with you

Phoenix:

this lovely lady would be the absolute sweetest

She's all too familiar with what you’re going through, and is committed to making this week of your life unnotable in the best possible way

Seeing you at all uncomfortable or feeling down sends her protective tendencies into overdrive

Every minute she's not in the air, she's waiting on you hand and foot

Phoenix is such a caretaker, and it comes second nature to her

You’ll have to promise that you really are fine, and while she isn’t 100% convinced, she will at least let you walk your dogs or help with dinner

She absolutely loves taking baths with you, so much that it’s practically one of her love languages

Physical touch and quality time are both such big things for her, and there are few things more intimate than talking about your day while you share a glass of wine and wash each other's hair

At the end of the day she just wants her partner to feel comfortable and loved at all times, and she'll do anything she can to make that happen

Maverick:

When your period comes, this man is certifiably lost It’s not because he doesn't care, he's just a little (endearingly) oblivious

A facet of your relationship centers around how, between his free-spirited personality and after so many years spent dedicated only to his career, Maverick just isn't used to having to think about anyone else

but if theres one thing Mav has proven time and time again, it’s that he isn't one to back down from a challenge

Once he's caught on to your "situation" (as he calls it), he's going to ask questions that total in the hundreds

Asks about your cravings, type and descriptions of your pain, preferences over products and medications, etc

He genuinely wants to know everything, because then he’ll know how to help

He's a bit of a walking disaster, and he'd far too restless to cuddle

but if it’s your thing he’ll try for you, so long as you’re ready to listen to his endless wild stories :)

Instead of simply assuming you're down for his spur-of-the-moment adventures (or just disappearing for days like he used to before you got together), he'll actually come out and invite you along

He also makes a conscious effort to check in with you throughout the day, sending you quick texts to let you know he’s safe and thinking about you

This eventually gets fully implemented into your relationship when Maverick realizes he's very invested in what you do all day—no matter how mundane it seems to you

If you spent all day in bed scrolling your phone, he wants to know all the details about everything you looked at

If you went grocery shopping that afternoon, he wants to know all about what you’re cooking and what new products and snacks you saw while you were there

To him everything has the potential to be an adventure, you just how to have the right outlook

Slowly, you'll start noticing more and more of your favorite things popping up around the hangar

Your favorite snacks and a bottle of your preferred painkillers in the cabinet, extra pillows and fluffy blankets left lying around, a heating pad or two…

You don't say anything and he’ll never address it, but you can't help but notice the soft look in his eyes when he sees you using something he bought just for you

Cyclone:

Whether you're dating, married, or even just friends with benefits, this man is nothing if not a provider

If you are in any way connected to him, he has made it abundantly clear that you are to call him whenever you need anything—no matter how insignificant

He's admittedly out of his element when it comes to periods, but he’s a grown man, competent enough to admit what he doesn’t know and not let that phase him one bit

On days when time got away from you and you’re now out of pads/tampons and the store is closing in thirty minutes, he's in his car the second your text comes through

He’ll show up at your door in under an hour, carrying multiple packs of exactly what you need, along with groceries for the week and frozen yogurt from your favorite shop across town

When you question him about it, he simply says he does it “because he can”

Choosing to conveniently leave out the fact that he knows you have a busy week ahead, and not having to worry about getting to the grocery store is an easy way for him to take a little bit of stress off of your plate

He’s the type to have meticulously organized notes in his phone that list all your favorite things, what's on your wishlist, your go to restaurant orders, etc

This comes in handy not only when he wants to spoil you (which is always), but also when you’re not feeling well and are in need of some extra love and care

Like Phoenix, you’re his number one priority, and knowing something is off triggers both his protective and caregiver tendencies.

He will do anything he can to make your life easier, and gets genuinely angry at the thought of you having to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary

He's shockingly big into quality time, and loves to spend nights with you on the couch or in bed

He runs insanely warm, and while you often joke about him being the human equivalent of a space heater, your complaints become nothing but praise when you have cramps or just want a comforting hug

In the same vein, he gives the best massages ever

His hands are big and just as warm as the rest of him, plus he's strong with fingertips just rough enough to feel great against your skin

He’s not the type to ever bombard you with his presence, but if he’s not working, he’s more than happy to spend all the time he can with you

Bonus:

Coyote is the type of guy to ask you to go hiking with him on the worst day of your period. He doesn't see anything wrong with this because "being active will make you feel better".

Fanboy uses your self care time to cuddle up with you, with the ulterior motive of making you rewatch the Star Wars franchise for the millionth time, with fun facts and his original commentary included.

[lavenderspence]

silly poker night reveals | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 1.8K

Content warning: basically just funny, or crack, alcohol mention, gambling addiction mention

Summary: A poker night with the silly crime men gets disrupted when a certain someone decides to prove he's not a psychic.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Patrick Jane, Richard Castle, Seeley Booth, Harvey Specter

A/N: One day, I just really wanted to write a fic with all my favorite silly crime men and have them be snarky to each other, and that’s what I did. This was literally written for the fun, for the vibes, for the hell of it, and then I just could not, not make it about my husband too. So, even if you’ve only watched one of the shows, give this a read, I think it's fun. enjoy🤭

and thank you to @reidsstargirl for beta reading this 🥺💕

masterlist

“You’re late.” You said after you pulled the door open. A rumpled blond was sitting in front of you - a white dress shirt, a black vest, and a gray suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. 

He flashed you a lazy smile, all teeth, “Yeah, well, when have you known me to be punctual?” He pushed past you, stepping into the apartment, with no care in the world.

His eyes ran around the room, finding it empty of any other presence, “You little minx, you lied to me.” He turned around, eyes running through your body. 

You smiled, eyes sparkling, “Yeah, well, I had to get creative if I wanted you to be on time, Jane. You have just enough time for a power nap, go enjoy the couch.” You threw his words back at him, and then waved a hand around, gusting to the emerald couch. 

You made your way to the kitchen, picking up a half-full glass of champagne. Walking around for a second, you looked at the man on the couch and waited for the 15 minutes until 7:30 to pass, so you could welcome your other guests too. 

You were waiting on Aaron and Spencer - they were coming straight from work, deciding to stay around an extra hour after you to finish up. Harvey was flying in from New York, Castle was driving down, and Jane was already snoring on your couch, and Booth was coming after closing a case. 

You arranged these poker games once every two months, depending on how all your schedules aligned. You’d worked with all of these silly assholes at one point in your life. Sometimes, they needed some time to just goof around and play some games, nothing serious. 

A few other of your colleagues joined occasionally - Rossi and Morgan loved the snark, and Emily was a fan of disturbing the testosterone with you from time to time. But all of them were busy, so it was just you and the usuals tonight. 

12 minutes later, you were welcoming everyone in, and Jane was rousing from his nap, looking even more rumpled than before. 

Spencer and Booth took their usual places in front of the TV, where you’d already queued a baseball game, and left them some snacks. The others each took a place at the table. 

You usually played just one game, so you took your place as the dealer and shuffled the cards. 

The conversation was sparse for a few minutes while you dealt the cards. 

“Why’s Clark Kent not playing?” Rick asked all of a sudden, gusting to Booth with his head. Booth usually joined the gathering every few games, still not entirely comfortable coming every time. His addiction wasn’t something that you’d brought up or were looking to bring up during a night like this. He usually stayed away from the table, engrossed in a game of baseball on tv, or bothering Reid for any useless facts and calling him a squint. 

“Let him be Rick, he needs the night out even if he isn’t playing.” Your answer was vague and it would stay that way as long as Booth wanted to be there and stay away from the game. 

“And the kid?” It was Jane’s voice, and he raised a hand and pointed at Spencer. He was usually sitting the games out too, since the last time you and Hotch had played with him he’d hustled you. 

“Go on, tell him.” You prompted Spencer, as he bookmarked the page he was reading. 

“I’m good at poker.” It wasn’t convincing and it wasn’t the truth. 

You shook your head with a laugh, “Nooo, Jane’s good at poker, Castle is good at poker. What are you good at?” You asked, your eyes meeting Aaron’s for a second. 

“I'm good at counting the cards, and banned from several casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump.” Aaron’s lips twitched, a barely there grin appearing for just a second before it disappeared again. 

“Can I borrow him for a poker night with my author buddies? Maybe even Kate? I really need a win.” Castle asked. 

“He’s not winning against Kate, Rick. She will sniff him out before he even sits at the table. Now, Ryan and Esposito, on the other hand, you can easily steal some money from.” You told him as you took a sip from your drink. 

Everyone else was having a drink - whiskey was the preferred drink at your table, Booth was having a beer and Spencer was sticking to water. 

“Anything to drink Jane?” You asked again. 

“Chamomile tea, two sugars please.” 

“You do realize this is a poker game, and not an afternoon tea with Her Majesty, right?” Harvey’s usual snark was making a comeback for the first time tonight. 

“But her Majesty’s sitting right there.” Jane's chin jutted towards Rick. It was no secret that out of every man currently in the room, Rick was probably the most pretentious one, closely followed by Harvey.

“Haha, very funny.”

“I didn't lie, did I? I highly doubt that the Ferrari parked downstairs can be bought on a government salary.” Quipped Jane.

“How do you know it's not Harvey's?”

“Because I'm not a pussy driving a bright red Ferrari around New York City, thank you very much.” Harvey threw a few chips in the center of the table. 

“Well, said Ferrari costs anywhere between 70K and 120K. A Special Agent’s salary is around 135K, and 170K a year for Supervisory Special Agents. So realistically, yeah, we can’t afford it.” Spencer shrugged, turning a page in his book, not even phased by the looks everyone was throwing at him.

“I like this kid, he’s such a squint.” Booth laughed and gave Reid’s shoulder a little pat. Spencer tensed for a second but quickly relaxed again. 

“Dammed it, I overpaid 30K for this one.” Castle scoffed, shaking his head. 

Harvey produced a business card from somewhere and slid it toward Rick. 

“In case you need it. Fair warning though, get on my nerves, and I’m giving you to Louis.”

“Aww he has a heart.” Rick pouted.

“Never repeat that, never.” The brunette warned.

“And a lot of snark.” You smiled, looking around. They all might have serious jobs during the day, but they were all extremely silly when they were off of work.

The game continued on for another 15 minutes, conversion flying by until Booth’s voice rang around you.

“Okay Jane, no offense, but I need to know. What’s your shtick? What made the FBI want to hire you as a consultant?” Seeley asked, turning a sobriety chip in his hand. 

“Ugh, offense.” 

“Oh come on,” Booth waved a hand around, “I’m one of the best sharpshooters out there,” you rolled your eyes and so did Rick, “Hotchner’s an ex-ADA, Y/N’s a weapons expert and a linguist. Reid over here is basically Einstein.” 

“Well, actually, Einstein’s IQ is believed to be somewhere between 160 and 180, and mine’s 187, so technically, I surpass Albert Einstein.” Seeley wasn’t happy being interrupted again, but he let it slide, used to being interrupted by his own team.

“So Jane, what makes you such a special asset to the FBI? You're not still pulling the psychic card, are you?” To anyone, it might seem judgmental, the way he asked, but you knew it was anything but. He was curious, but he also valued his job too much not to ask. 

Jane leaned back in his chair, laying his cards face down and his hands on top of them. He looked on over you, head to toe, and then his eyes focused on your left - to Aaron. 

You saw his eyes shine for a second, and shook your head at him, already knowing what was going to come out of his mouth. 

“There is no such thing as psychics. Just a very good eye for reading people. Like for example, all night Hotchner’s been a broody, quiet bastard, safe for any time Y/N talks. His eyes light up and he relaxes back into his chair.” You watched Aaron’s posture too tight and reached a hand under the table to lay over his leg.

You were glaring daggers in Jane's direction, but once he was on a roll, there was no stopping him. “Earlier, when she put his glass down, his fingers on the hand closest to her body, twitched. His cologne is expensive, freshly applied - he probably has a spear bottle in his office.  He's been checking his watch, waiting for the night to end, so we'd all go home. Not him though, he's staying over.”

He played with the edge of his cards as he watched all eyes turn in your direction. 

“Oh, and the murderous look he's been giving Harvey every time he catches him looking at Y/N a bit too closely. Also, the clenching of the jaw - seriously knock it off, you won't have teeth forever.” Jane warned before he leaned back into his chair, looking just a tad too proud of himself.

The silence was defeating for a few moments, no one dared to utter a word.

“I don't think they wanted that to be shared just yet.” Rick muttered

“No shit.” Aaron's fingers wrapped around your own as he gritted out.

“And I didn't want to be lied to, but alas…” Jane added, flashing you a grin.

“Oh, you petty asshole.” A grin was making its way onto your face and you didn't know why.

“Oh, I'm about to become even more of an asshole - full house.” He threw his card in the middle of the table, close to the chips.

“Awww, you really are an asshole.” Rick leaned back in his chair, defeated and pouting.

“Takes one to know one, Dicky.” He smirked.

“Are you okay with this?” You turned around and asked Aaron quietly, for a moment forgetting the room full of men you’d worked with over the years.

“I'm good, although being profiled wasn't my idea of fun for the night.” He admitted just as quietly, reaching to push your hair away.

“I'm sorry.” He went to close the space between you before you heard the scraping of chairs.

“Okay kiddos, mom and dad need us to empty the apartment. Go on, out the door.” Seeley announced. You rolled your eyes at his bullshit before you started giving goodbye hugs. 

“If Hotchner's the dad, who's the daddy?” Harvey asked jokingly as he pulled you into a hug.

“Ask Louis tomorrow.”

“I didn't need the mental picture, thank you.” He shuddered and walked towards the door with the rest.

“Don't ask dumb questions then.” You called out, before you turned towards the good Doctor, “Oh and Spence? Keep this on the down-low, would you?” You asked, still not exactly ready to share this with your team, even after having the whole thing come out this way.

He smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his neck, “Yeah…too late.” and just then both your and Aaron's phones went off. 

There was no question about it, there was a fun morning waiting for you tomorrow. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[augustjoy]

Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat.  A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Love, Lies and Loki ~1

Summery: Loki has been living on Earth for a year now, quietly enjoying life with a mortal partner who loves him just as he is. The story is filled with lazy mornings, shared coffee, Loki learning how to cook (and failing hilariously)

Characters: Loki x girlfriend!reader

Note: All characters except Loki are mine!

||Master List||

2.A Tail Of Misfortune

💚1.Cold,Chaos And A God In Pyjamas💚

The first thing Y/n noticed when she opened her eyes was the gentle, rhythmic sound of rain tapping against the windows. The world outside was muted in soft gray, the kind of morning that made you want to stay tangled in bed all day.

And honestly? That was the plan.

She turned her head, half-asleep, only to find the other half of the bed empty—aside from the mess of crumpled green blankets and the faint, lingering warmth of a body that had just recently been there.

“Loki?” she murmured, voice rough from sleep.

No answer.

She blinked and sat up, squinting at the soft light filtering through the curtains. It was definitely early, too early for any normal person to be awake. But then again, Loki wasn’t exactly normal.

Yawning, she stretched, dragging herself out of bed in one of Loki’s ridiculously soft shirts—black, oversized, and with a faint scent of his cologne still clinging to the fabric. Padding barefoot through the apartment, she followed the faint sound of movement into the kitchen.

And there he was.

Standing in front of the counter, back turned to her, was none other than Loki Laufeyson—God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard, and currently wielding a French press like it was an ancient magical relic.

He was dressed in pajama pants (deep green with tiny golden daggers printed on them, a gift from Y/n) and a black sleep shirt, his long dark hair messily tied back into a low bun. He looked… soft. Completely out of place in the mortal world, and yet somehow like he belonged more than anyone else ever had.

Y/n leaned on the doorframe, smiling.

“You’re up early.”

Loki jumped a little, nearly spilling hot water across the counter. “Y/n,” he said, a breath of relief, “must you sneak up on me like that?”

“You’re the God of Mischief and I caught you off-guard?” she teased, walking over to him. “Shocking.”

“I was… distracted,” he muttered, then added in a quieter voice, “I was trying to make you coffee.”

She blinked. “Wait. You made coffee?”

“I attempted to,” Loki corrected, gesturing dramatically to the counter, which now had a French press, two mugs, and a small pile of sugar packets that had definitely been stolen from various cafés. “There was a great battle between me and your espresso machine. I won, but at what cost?”

Y/n laughed, full and bright, stepping into his space. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You knew this when you let me move in,” he said smoothly, but his smile was proud and smug as he poured the coffee into her favorite mug—the one that said World’s Okayest Human.

She took it from him gratefully, cradling the warmth between her hands. “You’re learning. This is actually really good.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with himself. “Of course it is. I have centuries of experience in courtly drink preparation.”

“It’s coffee, not wine, my liege.”

He leaned closer, smirking. “You mock me now, but just wait until I conquer Midgard’s baked goods next.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Y/n said, bumping his hip with hers playfully.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping coffee and watching the rain through the window. Loki reached over and gently tugged her closer by the hem of his shirt she was wearing, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I like mornings like this,” he murmured. “No noise. No battles. Just you and I. The rain.”

Y/n smiled against his chest. “Me too. It’s cozy.”

Loki tilted his head, considering. “Is that the word mortals use? Cozy?”

“It is. And you’re currently the coziest I’ve ever seen you. If Asgard knew you had dagger pajama pants and knew how to make a decent cup of coffee, they’d never let you live it down.”

He looked absolutely unbothered. “Let them talk. They never had this.”

She looked up. “Had what?”

His expression softened completely, all arrogance melting away. “You. A home. Peace.”

Her heart squeezed a little at that. She’d seen the cracks in Loki—the loneliness he hid behind sarcasm, the guilt he carried quietly. But mornings like these? They were healing. For both of them.

“Wanna stay in today?” she asked gently. “I could call in. We could make pancakes and do absolutely nothing productive.”

Loki gave a rare, genuine grin. “That sounds… wonderful.”

Y/n leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway.”

He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Then allow me to begin the next chapter of this lazy Midgardian day by attempting pancakes. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You say that like last time didn’t end in a small kitchen fire and a dozen slightly charred Frisbee-shaped things.”

“I prefer the term ‘culinary experimentation.’”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the stove.

“I know I’m cute,” Loki said with a smirk. “It’s one of my many divine attributes.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and laughed—and just like that, the morning melted into the softest kind of chaos. One where nothing urgent mattered, and the only thing on their to-do list was being together.

-The end

[justasecretflower]

💐Is it possible for me to have a request, pretty please?💐

I love your writing skills, you describe everything beautifully. I would like to know your opinion on how the InuYasha characters (and especially Jinenji - he's my favorite comfort character) would react to head scratches, or if the reader required them.

You can ignore this request if you don't want to write about it, I won't be upset! Have a nice rest of the day/evening.

-autistic anonym *:..ﾞ†*ﾟ•¨ﾟﾟ･*:..☆

💐Inuyasha men with a partner that gives head scratches / requires them🩷

A/N- life sure has been stressful but I’m back!! Thanks for the request <3 sorry to keep you waiting anon :(

Status- not proofread !

Inuyasha

Our little half dog

He secretly LOVES head scratches especially on his ears he goes wild. He me lays into you and sighs with his eyes closed.

He lets his guard down completely, and that’s rare for him. He acts like he hates it in front of people when you try to do it in public, but in private he turns into a d1 yearner

A man who yearns is a man who earns 🙏

He often falls asleep in your lap or on your chest. It’s because he fells so relaxed with you.

As for giving you some? He doesn’t really wanna be perceived as ‘soft’ and only gives them to you when you beg and you’re in private.

When you’re seriously injured or asleep though he’ll give them to you. Just to comfort you.

Miroku

He has no shame

In public, in private, he doesn’t care, just please touch him he’s going insane

His love language is definitely more loud than Inuyasha’s, he’s more physical touch and Inuyasha is more acts of service.

Anyway, the point is he loves when you touch his head or scratch it. He loves the feeling of your fingertips brushing through his hair.

His favourite thing to do is lay between your thighs (it doesn’t matter which size Ik this man loves thighs) and feel you comb through his hair oh my gosh that man is in heaven

As for you? He’ll randomly do it. When you’re walking somewhere? His hand randomly goes up to scratch your head, while you’re eating? While he’s praising you for doing a good job fighting? He does it a lot !

He actually loves it so much that when he’s between your thighs he falls asleep, and then drools all over you (he def drools in his sleep)

Sesshomaru

Our other lil dog. But he’s a full dog

He doesn’t really like physical touch.. he actually flinches away from it most of the time. He’s not used to it.

But he really tries for you.

He only gives physical touch when he’s most vulnerable. Like when him and you are in the hot springs together. He’ll run his hands through your hair to eventually trail up to your head and scratch it and then trace a tiny circles on your head.

It’s relaxing and intimate. He lets his walls fall for just a moment and bask in the moment with the person he loves the most.

If you do it to him around jaku or rin he’ll tense a little bit and then let his shoulders fall. He just needs some time to adjust to someone touching him in a way that expresses love, not violence.

Be patient with him <3

Naraku

Yeah you’re not touching him lol

I keep my head canons real, and Naraku giving or receiving head scratches is NOT in the cards

He treats you like a pet (invincible core)

Whatever keeps his pet happy. But they won’t be affectionate head scratches. They’ll be praise to motivate you to do more of what he says

He’ll actually treat you like a dog. Your head in his lap and his fingers through your hair telling you how well things work out when you just listen to him.

He’s manipulative. If your love language is physical touch he’ll deprive you of it until you obey him.

______ now I’m feeding into your delusions !___

Does it when you’re asleep. Kisses your forehead gently while he runs his fingers through your hair and scratches your head

Likes it when you’re bathing together especially

Will never do it in front of other people unless you’re kneeling down to put your head in his lap and he’s stroking you like a dog.

Koga

HE’S IN LOVE WITH THE HEAD SCRATCHES!!

He lives for them. Will beg you for them constantly

He’s in between Miroku and Inuyasha

He likes privacy but if he’s in front of his pack and you crave it he will never deny you

But when it comes to him he’s needy in private and only a little in public

He likes to wrap his arms around you, rest his head on your shoulder while you take your hand up to scratch his head

That’s everywhere. He can’t go without it.

His pack saw how much enjoyment it brung and tried asking you to do it with them

That didn’t end well.

While you’re snuggling in bed you guys scratch each others heads

And then fall asleep in sync

Jinenji

My sweet boy.

He craves for your attention and love.

In any form he’ll take it

He’s so lucky to have you and he tells you that all the time.

He likes to lay his head down in your lap and feel you scratch his head. He places featherlight kisses onto your skin as a silent appreciation, and mumbles ‘thank you’ over and over.

He’s way too scared that his hands will hurt you if he does it to you. He’s just so big and strong :(

Tries to do it when you’re asleep.

He’s hesitant with every form of physical touch because of how big he is. So be patient, he doesn’t wanna hurt you <3

Jinenji oneshot (since he’s your fav <3)

the wind whooshed past outside of the window, the fire crackling inside to keep the house warm. Everything was a perfect environment for you to go into a deep slumber. You laid in your boyfriend’s arms, that were limp around you. Scared to squeeze even the tiniest bit. He smelled like fresh soil and herbs, wafting through your nose as you snoozed off. He wasn’t asleep though, far from it. He looked at you, so peaceful in the arms of a perceived monster, the person who had dared to stand up for him, rip him open and look at his heart instead of his reputation, and pressed kisses of affection in every corner of his mind and soul. He wanted to repay you. Oh how bad he wanted to hold you tight so he knew you wouldn’t get hurt from the demons of the unknown, kiss you with all the emotion he has for you, but he couldn’t. His hand hoovered over your head, shaking, before gently oh so gently falling on your head. He sucked in a breath like every bit of oxygen was stollen from him. Slowly, he took his fingertips and softly caressed your head. You relaxed more into him, molding into his touch like you were the clay and he was the potter. Effortlessly. That’s when he realised his hands are worth more than pulling up crops from the sun baked soil, or the scars from hold the wooden bails of water. It was for loving, as well.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 tags

[paperstorm]

Meetings and Partings

Rating: Mature Warning: Owen Strand's Death Tags: future fic, grief/mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, found family, romance, canon compliant, non-explicit sex, mentions of cancer

Summary: 20 years later, after time and life have drifted the 126 apart from each other, they reunite in Manhattan to attend Owen’s funeral; to say goodbye to the first departed member of their family and remember why they became a family in the first place.

-

“Hi baby,” TK says.

Carlos’s crinkled eyes shine and he reaches for TK as he steps inside, folding him into a tight embrace. He smells just like he always does, masculine deodorant and laundry soap and his sweet natural scent, and TK burrows into him. They’ve only been apart a few days but it’s longer than TK ever likes to be away from him, even when times are good. So many people in their lives have affectionately teased them for how clingy they are, how even after so many years together they’d rather sit and do nothing beside each other than do almost anything with anyone else.

Carlos is his best friend, he always has been. TK laughs along when they’re teased and knows it comes from a place of love, but it’s truer than even they know. He always wants Carlos within reaching distance and never feels quite right when he’s too far away.

They hold each other just inside the doorway for so long that TK wonders if seasons change around them, Carlos stroking the back of his head with his nose pressed against TK’s ear. Eventually, Carlos quietly says, “I’m turning 50 this year. Am I still ‘baby’?”

Smiling, TK kisses Carlos’s neck and tells him, “You’ll always be my baby.”

Carlos presses kisses to the side of his face and then leans back to look at him. He holds TK’s face in his hands, brushes his thumb over his temples where his hair has gone grey.

“You wanna graduate to a more mature nickname now that you’re an old man?” TK jokes.

Carlos smiles back at him, bright as the sun despite the shine of melancholy still in his endless dark eyes. “No. And I’m not old, yet. Not like you.”

Laughing, TK tilts his chin forward to ask for a kiss and Carlos, as always, meets him in the middle. Their lips brush and then their foreheads connect, TK’s hands curling around Carlos’s thick waist and keeping him close.

“How are you doing?” he asks softly.

TK sniffs. “I don’t know. We knew it was coming. It wasn’t sudden and tragic in the way that your dad was.”

“Or your mom.”

“Or my mom,” TK nods. Life has been good for long enough that sometimes it’s hard to put himself back into a time when the hits rarely seemed to stop coming. There was a sweetness to it, mixed in with all the tragedy, because he and Carlos got through it hand-in-hand. That doesn’t mean TK’s welcoming the return of loss to his life. He takes an unsteady breath and whispers, “But he was still my dad.”

“I know,” Carlos soothes.

Read the rest on AO3

Author's note:  I attended a funeral a few weeks ago for someone I have known since childhood who died of cancer, and one part of the lovely service really struck me – a recorded conversation between her and her son about her famous Caesar salad recipe. It was a family favorite and something she made for over 40 years for all types of occasions, and a recipe she’d passed on to countless people – her children, her friends, her siblings, and who knows how many people they all passed it on to in return. Her son spoke of the power of a legacy, even when it’s something as simple as salad dressing, and how we all touch people’s lives in unintentional ways and leave a mark on this earth that’s bigger than we even know. Half because the Tarlos brain worms are real, and half because writing helps me process things sometimes, I spun up this little story as both a tribute to her and also to these incredible characters who have left marks on all of us who love them <3

[amethystarachnid]

Hello! Could I ask for Steve Rogers for your Marvel Christmas specials? Number 23 (Santa’s Little Helper  – You and your character end up volunteering together at a local holiday charity or helping out in a Christmas toy drive.) please.

I don't know why, but I think he's the perfect match for something like volunteering for charity, especially if it were for kids in need. Just some sweet sweet fluff, I know the kids would love to play around with him (climbing all over him y'know)

A PLACE TO STAY - part I

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, some angst, more fluff at the end

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★Part II

ᯓ★ Word count: 9k (I told you the fic wrote itself)

ᯓ★ Summary: Steve and y/n decide to buy some gifts for the kids in an orphanage, what they don't expect is to have a little girl attached to the hip. how will they leave now?

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of abandonment and abandonment issues

ᯓ★ I'm so sorry I know you asked just fluff but I swear the fic wrote itself, and I will sure as hell write a second part where Steve and Y/n adopt Olivia because I'm crying.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The soft hum of Christmas music plays from the speaker tucked into the corner of your apartment, filling the room with warmth and a sense of the season. Outside, snow falls lazily, blanketing Brooklyn in a pristine sheet of white. Inside, the two of you are curled up on the couch, a fuzzy throw blanket draped over your legs and a half-empty mug of cocoa forgotten on the coffee table.

Steve’s arm is slung over your shoulders, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your upper arm through the fabric of your sweater. It’s a lazy December evening, the kind where the world feels a little slower, a little softer, and you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be than here, in this little pocket of warmth with him.

“You comfortable?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling, a touch of amusement in his tone as he looks down at you. You’re nestled against his side, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Mhm,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head. “I could stay like this forever.”

His chuckle vibrates through you, deep and rich. “Not a bad idea. We can hibernate till spring.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, catching the teasing glint in his blue eyes. His hair is slightly mussed, one of your favorite looks on him, and his sweater—a soft navy one you’d insisted he get because it matched his eyes—clings to him in a way that makes you want to tug him even closer.

“I think you’d get stir-crazy after a day,” you say, smiling. “You’re not built for sitting still, Rogers.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “But if I’ve got you here with me, I think I could manage.”

Your heart squeezes at the way he says it, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way Steve looks at you, like you’re the most important thing in the room, in his life. You reach up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, letting your fingers linger against his temple.

“I love you,” you say softly.

He doesn’t answer right away; he never rushes when he looks at you like this, like he’s savoring every second of it. Then he smiles, that slow, sweet smile that makes your knees weak even when you’re sitting down. “I love you, too,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into the quiet comfort of it all—the faint crackle of the fireplace app on your TV, the weight of his arm around you, the glow of the tiny Christmas tree you both decorated a week ago. Then Steve shifts slightly, his hand moving from your arm to rest on your thigh, and you catch the thoughtful look in his eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, tilting your head to study him.

He hesitates, which is rare for him. Steve’s always been the type to speak his mind, but you’ve learned that sometimes he takes his time when it’s something that really matters to him.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he says finally. “Something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, sitting up a little so you can face him better. “What is it?”

He runs a hand through his hair, glancing toward the window as if he’s searching for the right words. When he looks back at you, there’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart ache a little.

“You know how much I love Christmas,” he begins, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And not just the lights and the music and all that. It’s always been about... giving back. Doing something meaningful.”

You nod, already feeling a warmth spread through you at the direction this is going. “That sounds like you,” you say, your smile matching his.

“Well,” he continues, his fingers brushing against yours, “I was thinking. This year, maybe we could do something together. Something for kids who don’t have as much. Like in orphanages, or shelters. We could bring them gifts, spend some time with them. Make their Christmas a little brighter.”

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes hold yours like this idea means the world to him. He’s always been like this—big heart, bigger dreams. And he’s always thinking about how to make the world a better place, one person at a time.

“That’s a beautiful idea, Steve,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Of course I’ll help. I’d love to.”

The way his face lights up is enough to make you forget the chill outside, forget everything but him. “You mean it?” he asks, like he can’t quite believe you’d say no but still needs to hear you confirm it.

“Of course,” you say, squeezing his hand. “We’ll make it happen. Whatever you need.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his smile soft and grateful. Then he leans in, cupping your face with one hand as he kisses you. It’s slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl under the blanket and your heart feel like it’s trying to escape your chest.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can’t help but smile at how close he keeps you. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs.

“I try,” you tease, though your cheeks are warm from his words.

He laughs, a sound that feels like sunshine breaking through the snowstorm outside. “We’ll need to start planning soon,” he says. “I was thinking we could make it a mix of things—gifts, maybe some activities. And definitely food. Can’t forget the food.”

You nod along, already picturing the two of you wrapping presents and brainstorming ideas together. “Sounds perfect,” you say. “And you know I’m good with organizing stuff. Just tell me what you need.”

Steve’s grin widens, and he pulls you back against his chest, holding you close like he can’t quite let go yet. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks, half to himself.

“You saved the world a couple of times,” you reply with a grin, earning another laugh from him.

“You make it sound so casual,” he says, shaking his head.

You just smile and settle back into his embrace, letting the warmth of him and the moment wrap around you like a second blanket. Outside, the snow keeps falling, and inside, you know this is going to be a Christmas to remember.

The following weekend, after a week of planning and buying supplies, you and Steve are seated together at the kitchen table in your Brooklyn apartment, an array of colorful gift bags, wrapping paper, and toys scattered around you. The room is cozy, the hum of the heater mingling with the faint sound of the radio playing a Christmas song. It’s the perfect kind of atmosphere, warm and inviting, for the task you’ve set out to do.

You unwrap another toy—a little plush giraffe—and place it carefully into one of the gift bags. Steve does the same with a toy truck, grinning as he reads the label on the back. “I’m just saying, I’d be pretty excited if someone gave me one of these,” he says, giving the truck a little shake as though testing it out.

“You’re 100% a kid at heart,” you reply with a laugh. “But yeah, I think they’re going to love these.”

Steve shoots you a sideways glance, eyes glinting with mischief. “Are you calling me immature?”

“Not at all,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m just saying you’re very easy to shop for.”

He pretends to look hurt, dramatically clutching his chest. “Ouch, that cuts deep.”

You can’t help but giggle at his theatrics, your heart swelling as you watch him. You’ve always known Steve had a playful side, but it’s moments like this that remind you how much you love his ability to make even the most mundane tasks fun.

The two of you have spent the last few hours going through the kids’ wishlists, some of which were surprisingly simple, while others tugged at your heart. One little girl, age seven, asked for a "doll with long hair." Another boy, maybe around ten, wrote that he wanted "a toy airplane, but one that could fly like a real one." You’re constantly amazed by the purity of their wishes, the things they dream of that seem so small yet are filled with so much hope.

“That’s a pretty big ask for a toy airplane,” you say, looking over at Steve. “What do you think? Should we get him something that flies, or...?”

Steve rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Something that actually flies?” He grins at you, his eyes twinkling. “You know I’m always down for a challenge, but I think we should stick with something more realistic. How about a remote-controlled one? They’re fun, and it’s not like the kid’s asking for a jet.”

You nod, smiling at his practicality. “Good call. We’ll grab one of those.”

After a few more hours of sorting through toys, checking and double-checking the lists, you and Steve are finally finished. You stretch your arms over your head and look at the pile of wrapped gifts you’ve managed to create. It’s a satisfying sight—brightly colored paper, neat bows, and the satisfaction of knowing these toys are going to bring joy to kids who might otherwise go without.

“I think we’re done here,” you say, smiling at Steve, who is just finishing the last bit of wrapping on a small box.

“I think you’re right,” he says, glancing around at the festive chaos of wrapping supplies scattered across the table. “This is actually kind of fun. We should do this every year.”

You beam up at him. “Agreed. And next year, we’ll probably need a bigger table.”

After packing everything up into several large bags, Steve helps you load them into the back of his car. The trunk is already half-filled, and as you stand side by side, looking over the pile of gifts, Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” he murmurs.

You glance up at him, your smile softening. “Right back at you. You came up with this idea, remember?”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who made it happen,” he says, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, his gaze soft as he studies you. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you forget about the gifts, the plans, everything except Steve’s presence. “I love you,” you whisper.

He smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I love you, too.”

The drive to the orphanage is peaceful, the streets of Brooklyn decorated with twinkling lights and signs of holiday cheer. You both chat about your plans for the rest of the day—maybe grab a coffee afterward, or walk around the city—but the closer you get to your destination, the more your thoughts turn to the kids and what they might be like. You wonder if they’ll be excited, nervous, or shy. It’s all a bit of an unknown, but you’re both determined to make it special for them, no matter what.

As you pull up to the orphanage, a large, older building with a faded red brick exterior, you can see children peeking out from behind the windows, their curious faces illuminated by the soft glow of the Christmas lights draped across the building. You grab the bags of gifts from the trunk, and Steve takes the lead, walking toward the entrance, holding the door open for you.

The building’s interior is warm, with a low hum of activity—kids running around, laughing, some playing with older toys, others reading books in the corner. You both stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in.

A woman who must be one of the caretakers approaches, her face lighting up as she sees you both. “You must be Mr. Rogers and Miss Y/n,” she says warmly. “Thank you so much for coming. The kids are going to be so excited!”

Steve smiles, a little bashful as always, but his voice is confident. “We’re happy to be here. We’ve got lots of gifts for them.”

The caretaker’s eyes flicker between you and Steve, and you can see a hint of surprise, though she hides it quickly. “It’s really kind of you,” she says. “We don’t get many visitors, especially not ones with such... generous hearts.”

“We’re just glad to help,” you reply with a smile, adjusting the strap of your bag.

With the gifts handed off to the staff, you’re introduced to the children. There are a lot of them—some shy, others enthusiastic, but all of them curious about the strangers in their midst. You and Steve work together to hand out the presents, and there’s something magical about seeing the kids’ faces light up as they unwrap their gifts. A shy little girl squeals in delight as she pulls a stuffed unicorn from her gift bag, and a boy nearly trips over his feet in excitement as he gets his remote-controlled airplane. The joy in their eyes makes the whole experience worth it.

But there’s one little girl who stands out from the crowd.

She’s tiny, maybe three years old, with soft, curly brown hair and big, brown eyes that never seem to leave you. She’s holding a teddy bear close to her chest, and when you kneel down to give her a gift, her gaze flickers between you and Steve, her lip trembling.

“Hi there,” you say softly, offering her a brightly wrapped present. “This is for you.”

Her eyes widen as she takes it, clinging to her teddy bear with one hand while carefully unwrapping the paper. You watch her closely, noticing how she seems a little unsure of everything—her speech not quite clear as she murmurs something unintelligible under her breath. You don’t mind, though. You’re in no rush. You’re here for her, for all of them.

Steve squats down beside you, his large hand hovering just above her shoulder in a quiet show of reassurance. “What’s your name, little one?” he asks gently.

The girl looks up at him, her eyes wide as she shifts her gaze from you to him. After a beat, she gives a little shrug, her brow furrowing as if she’s unsure how to respond. You smile softly and tilt your head toward her.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice gentle and soothing. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. But we’re really happy you’re here.”

Her eyes stay fixed on you, still uncertain but drawn to the calmness in your voice. She pulls the ribbon off her gift, her tiny fingers fumbling with it for a moment before she manages to untie it, revealing a small, colorful doll.

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she looks up at you, her eyes a little brighter. Her voice is soft, but you can just make out the words she stumbles through. “Doll... for me?”

You nod, your heart swelling. “Yes, sweetheart. That one’s all for you.”

She hugs it close to her chest, glancing back and forth between you and Steve, before shyly reaching out for your hand. You gently take it, your heart swelling at the small but trusting gesture. She might be too shy to speak much, but her little hand in yours speaks volumes.

Steve’s gaze softens as he watches the interaction, his hand resting lightly on her head. “She’s got a good grip for someone so little,” he murmurs.

You nod, smiling at the way the little girl is clinging to you, her eyes softening as she curls into your side. “She’s a sweet one,” you say, your voice low as you kneel down beside her, letting her feel safe and calm in your presence.

As the day goes on, the room fills with more laughter and joy, and the connection with the children deepens. But it’s this little girl, the one so small and yet so full of trust, who tugs most at your heartstrings. She doesn’t speak much, but when she reaches for you or Steve, you know she’s found a quiet comfort in both of you.

The morning slips by in a flurry of laughter, bright eyes, and the shuffle of little feet. The toys you and Steve brought are scattered all around the orphanage’s common room, and the kids are absolutely absorbed in them—trucks zooming across the floor, dolls being tucked into makeshift beds, and a few kids giggling as they watch the remote-controlled airplane soar through the air.

Steve, of course, is in his element, kneeling down beside the boys to help them maneuver their toy trucks. The grin on his face is enough to make anyone believe he’s reliving his own childhood. You can’t help but watch him, feeling that familiar warmth spread through you at the sight of him. He’s so good with the kids, so patient, so kind. He’s always been a hero, but in moments like this, you see him in a new light—he’s not just Captain America; he’s just a man who wants to make the world better, one small moment at a time.

As he engages with the boys, you turn your attention back to the little girl who’s been quietly following you. She’s still clutching her doll close to her chest, her eyes a little unsure, but there’s something in the way she watches you—something soft, something tentative, that tells you she’s starting to feel a little less guarded. You smile gently, crouching down to her level, and the moment your eyes meet, she ducks her head shyly, clutching her doll even tighter.

“Hey there,” you say softly, trying to coax her out of her shell. “You like your new doll?”

She looks up at you then, her dark eyes wide, as if she’s not quite sure what to make of your question. Slowly, she nods, her gaze flickering between you and the doll. Her little fingers run over the fabric of its dress as she hugs it to her chest.

“Pretty,” she murmurs in a soft, childlike voice, the words almost too quiet to hear.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread in your chest at the sound of her voice. “Yeah, she’s pretty. Just like you.”

The girl doesn’t respond, but she looks up at you again, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles. It’s enough to make you feel like you’ve won a small victory. The quiet way she’s speaking, the way she’s reaching out to you, is a sign that she’s starting to trust you, even if only a little.

You reach out slowly, letting her take her time. “Do you want me to hold her for a while?”

The girl hesitates, looking down at the doll and then back at you. Slowly, she reaches out and hands you the doll, her fingers brushing yours. It’s a small gesture, but it means so much to you. You cradle the doll in your arms, and for the first time, the little girl seems to relax a little, stepping a fraction closer to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice full of quiet admiration for how brave she’s being.

Just as you’re about to say something else, a loud burst of laughter rings out across the room, and you turn to see Steve kneeling on the floor with the older boys, showing them how to make the remote-controlled airplane do loops in the air. One of the boys is cheering, clapping his hands in excitement, while the others are watching with wide eyes.

The sight of Steve interacting with the other children seems to pull your attention away for just a moment, and when you glance back at the little girl, you’re surprised to find her standing right next to you, her gaze fixed on Steve with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

“Steve’s fun,” you say, offering her a gentle smile. “He’s really good at playing.”

The girl looks up at you with a small frown, still holding onto her doll but inching closer to you. “Steve?” she repeats softly, as if testing the name on her lips.

“Yeah, Steve,” you affirm, your voice gentle. “He’s a good friend.”

Her gaze flickers toward Steve, who’s still helping the kids with their toys. His laughter rings out, so easy and light, and the girl takes another step closer to you, her fingers tentatively reaching for your hand. You smile softly, taking her hand in yours.

“That’s Steve,” you say again, nodding toward him. “He’s nice.”

At first, the girl hesitates, but after a few moments, she seems to relax a little, still clinging to you, but her eyes on Steve now. It’s like she’s testing him in her own way, trying to decide if she can trust him, too.

“Play?” she asks in a tiny voice, pointing toward Steve. Her words are still so soft, and her speech is still uncertain, like she’s not yet comfortable with the world around her. But there’s an openness in her that makes your heart ache a little.

“Do you want to go play with him?” you ask, kneeling down to her level again. “You can. I bet he’d love to play with you.”

The little girl looks at you, and for a long moment, it seems like she’s not sure. But then, she takes another step closer to Steve, her doll still firmly clutched to her chest. You watch her with a quiet sense of hope, feeling your heart swell with the tiniest bit of pride. She’s trusting you. And now, it seems like she’s starting to trust Steve, too.

Steve catches sight of her moving toward him and offers a warm smile. “Hey there, little one,” he greets her softly. “You want to play with us?”

The girl looks at him for a moment, her eyes still uncertain, but she nods slowly, taking another cautious step toward him. Her tiny hand reaches for his, and Steve gently takes it, kneeling down so he’s at her level.

“Want to fly the airplane with me?” he asks in a calm, kind voice.

The girl looks at the airplane, her gaze lighting up for just a moment before she looks back at you. She’s still holding onto her doll, but she’s looking at Steve now, waiting for his next move.

“It’s really easy,” Steve continues, gently guiding her to sit beside him. “You just press the button here, like this.” He presses a button on the remote, and the airplane zooms into the air.

The girl watches, eyes wide with awe. She turns to you, her gaze searching for approval.

“It’s safe,” you assure her with a smile. “Steve’s really good at it. You can try it, if you want.”

After a long pause, she turns back to Steve, a little more confident now. “Try?” she asks, her voice a little stronger this time.

“You bet,” Steve says, his voice full of encouragement. “I’ll show you how. Just press this button.”

With a tentative hand, the girl reaches out, her tiny fingers brushing the remote. Steve guides her hand gently, and when the airplane soars into the air again, her face lights up with joy.

You watch the interaction with a quiet sense of happiness, but at the same time, there’s something pulling at your heart. The little girl is so small, so fragile, and yet she’s starting to trust not only you but Steve as well. It’s like she’s blossoming before your eyes, and it feels like a privilege to witness it.

But as the day goes on, a small pang of worry starts to creep into the back of your mind. You know how these moments go. You know that sometimes, when kids get attached, it can be hard for them to understand why people leave.

As you’re helping a few of the younger children color pictures, one of the caretakers—an older woman with kind eyes—approaches you. She’s got a solemn expression on her face as she quietly pulls you aside. Steve’s still busy with the other kids, so he doesn’t notice the exchange.

“Miss Y/n, Mr. Rogers,” she begins, her voice low and cautious. “I’m so grateful for the gifts and for everything you’ve done for these children today, but… there’s something you should know about the little girl who’s been sticking to you.”

Your stomach tightens. “What’s wrong?”

The caretaker looks over at the little girl, who’s still playing with Steve, her focus entirely on the remote-controlled airplane. “Her name is Olivia,” she says quietly. “She’s been here since she was about one, and… well, she’s had a hard time with attachments.”

Your heart sinks a little. You try to keep your voice calm. “What do you mean?”

The caretaker hesitates for a moment, glancing at the girl again. “She was abandoned. Left at the hospital when she was a baby. And ever since, she’s had a difficult time trusting people. She gets attached easily, but when people leave her, she—” The woman trails off, clearly not wanting to say it out loud.

When she speaks again, it’s with a quiet sense of warning. “She’s just starting to open up to you two. But if she gets too attached, if she starts to think of you as her… family, it could break her when you leave.”

You look at the little girl—Olivia—playing with Steve. She’s so innocent, so sweet, and the idea of her being hurt is almost unbearable.

“I understand,” you say softly, feeling a knot form in your throat. “We’ll be careful.”

But as you glance back at Olivia, sitting on Steve’s knee, her eyes wide with wonder, you know that it’s already too late. She’s already attached to you both in a way that no one can truly predict, and as much as you want to protect her, you know there’s nothing you can do to stop the inevitable heartbreak. The heartache that will come when she realizes you’re not staying.

And yet, despite the warning, despite the ache in your chest, you find yourself taking another step toward her, watching her smile up at Steve, her tiny hand resting in his. Some part of you knows that whatever happens, whatever heartbreak comes next, this moment, this tiny piece of joy, is worth everything.

As the day continues, the laughter and excitement in the orphanage grow louder, the sound of children’s voices mingling with the cheerful chime of Christmas music in the background. The toy airplane flies through the air again, spinning in dizzying loops, and Steve’s gentle voice guides Olivia’s small hands as she tries to control it, her grip still unsure but filled with an eagerness to learn.

You watch the two of them from the corner of the room, your heart swelling as you see how Steve is patiently showing Olivia how to work the controls, guiding her small hands with the same careful attention he always gives everyone. Olivia, in turn, seems captivated, her wide eyes focused solely on the airplane as it soars and dips. She lets out a small giggle when it flies low, and you can see a flicker of something like trust beginning to settle in her features.

A soft pull at your sleeve draws your attention, and you turn to find Olivia standing right beside you again, her big brown eyes wide and expectant.

“Y/n,” she says in a soft voice, and the way she says your name makes your heart ache. It’s still so fragile, so tentative, but there’s a quiet confidence behind it. “Pick up?”

You blink, surprised. For most of the day, Olivia has been content to stay a few steps away, observing, watching as you and Steve interacted with the other children. She hadn’t made any real attempt to get closer to either of you, and the fact that she was now reaching out in this way is a small but significant shift. Your chest tightens as you realize what this means.

“You want me to hold you?” you ask, your voice soft and full of tenderness.

Olivia nods, her tiny hands reaching up toward you, and there’s a quiet plea in her eyes—one that says she’s seeking comfort, seeking warmth in the middle of the excitement, something that’s just for her.

Without hesitation, you bend down, scooping her up gently, being careful not to disturb the doll she’s still clutching. Her tiny body relaxes as she’s lifted into your arms, and she nuzzles against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. You feel the weight of her trust settle in your arms, and for a moment, you close your eyes, savoring the feeling. She’s so small, so fragile, and yet she has placed her trust in you so completely.

“Is this okay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you hold her close.

She responds with a soft, contented hum, her little hand wrapping around your neck, clinging to you as if she’s afraid you might disappear. You tighten your hold on her, making sure she feels safe in your embrace.

From across the room, Steve watches the two of you, a soft smile on his lips as he continues to play with the other children. But his gaze flickers back to Olivia now and then, his protective instincts flaring in ways you can only imagine.

You shift slightly, carrying Olivia toward the group of kids Steve is playing with. As you approach, Steve looks up and gives you a quiet nod, his smile widening when he sees how Olivia has settled into your arms.

“She’s getting more comfortable, huh?” Steve says, his voice soft, but there’s a hint of both pride and concern in it.

“Yeah,” you reply, your tone full of quiet wonder. “She really is.”

Olivia doesn’t say anything, but her fingers curl around your shirt, her head still resting on your shoulder. It’s as if she’s found a place she can finally feel safe—something that, up until now, might have felt impossible for her. There’s something in the way she’s clinging to you that makes your heart ache with a mixture of love and fear. She’s so little, and the world can be so big and unpredictable, but right now, in this moment, she’s holding on to you with everything she’s got.

Steve moves closer, kneeling down to be at her eye level. He reaches out a hand, gentle and steady. “Olivia,” he says softly, his voice full of warmth. “You want to play some more? We’ve got a lot of fun toys.”

Olivia looks up at him with big eyes, her small face still somewhat wary. For a moment, she seems unsure. But then, she surprises you both by shifting her little body in your arms and turning toward Steve. There’s a softness in her gaze now, a hesitant trust that wasn’t there before.

“Play,” she says in that tiny voice, her words still so soft but filled with a quiet determination.

You let out a small breath of relief, your grip on her loosening just enough for her to be able to step away from you. But even as she moves toward Steve, she reaches back for you with a small, almost imperceptible gesture. Her fingers brush yours, seeking that connection.

You smile, touching her hand briefly before letting her go to Steve. It’s a small step, but it’s one that means everything.

Steve, ever the patient one, offers his hand to Olivia, guiding her toward a small table where the other kids are building with blocks. As he walks with her, his smile never fades, even as she seems to shy away slightly from the other children. He gives her space, letting her explore on her own terms.

“You wanna help me build a tower?” Steve asks her, his voice warm and encouraging.

Olivia looks up at him, her lips curling into a shy smile. “Tower?” she repeats, sounding out the word carefully.

“Yeah, a big one,” Steve affirms. “I think you’re gonna be great at it.”

She nods, her focus now entirely on the colorful blocks in front of her. She picks one up carefully, turning it over in her small hands. You watch her from where you’re standing, a quiet sense of pride swelling in your chest. This little girl, who had been so withdrawn just hours ago, is now actively participating, engaging with the world around her.

As you step back, you join the other children who are sitting on the floor, coloring pictures or playing with dolls. You try to keep an eye on Olivia without hovering too closely, giving her the space she needs to grow and trust on her own terms. It’s not easy, though, because your heart keeps pulling you back to her. You can’t help but worry about her, about what’s going to happen when the day comes to an end and you both have to leave.

For now, though, you try to focus on the present. The kids around you are still deep in their own activities, and there’s a sense of joy in the room, one that you can feel radiating from them. It’s infectious, this energy, and it makes you grateful for the opportunity to spend this time with them, to give them a small piece of happiness.

Olivia, it seems, is growing more comfortable with Steve. She’s fully immersed in building a tower now, and when she picks up another block, she looks up at him for reassurance. “More?” she asks, and Steve chuckles, nodding.

“Of course, more. We’ll make it the biggest tower ever.”

Her eyes light up, and she enthusiastically starts stacking more blocks, the tower growing taller and taller with each passing moment. Steve doesn’t rush her, doesn’t push her to go faster. He simply watches her, offering encouragement when needed, making sure she feels proud of every little step she takes.

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the orphanage as the day winds down. The cheerful chaos of children’s laughter and playful chatter starts to quiet, the toys being gathered up, the Christmas music fading to a gentle hum in the background. The once-bright room is now filled with a soft, melancholy glow, signaling the end of the day.

You can’t help but feel the bittersweetness of it all. The day has been filled with so much joy—so many smiles, so much laughter. And yet, as the clock ticks on and the children begin to gather their things, a heavy weight settles in your chest. You know what’s coming. You know that the moment you and Steve walk out the door, you’ll be leaving behind a part of yourself, a piece of your heart, with these children, especially with Olivia.

As you stand near the door, watching as the children slowly start to gather their jackets and shoes, your gaze drifts to Olivia. She’s standing near the coat rack, her tiny hands reaching for her jacket with the same determination you’ve seen in her all day. Her wide, trusting eyes are fixed on you, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

Steve is at your side, his expression equally heavy, his hand resting on your shoulder as you both watch the little girl from a distance.

“I think she’s getting ready to leave with us,” you whisper, your heart aching as you see Olivia struggling to put on her coat, her movements clumsy, her tiny fingers fumbling with the buttons. It’s like she’s already made up her mind that you’re going to take her home with you.

“Yeah,” Steve replies quietly, his voice rough, filled with a quiet pain that mirrors your own. “She’s really attached.”

You take a deep breath, but it feels like there’s a lump lodged in your throat. The promise you’d made to her—to come back and see her again—feels almost impossible in this moment. How can you leave a little girl who’s already started to trust you, to care for you, when all she wants is to stay with you?

Slowly, you step toward her, trying to keep the tears at bay. Olivia has finally managed to get her jacket on, and now she’s walking toward you, her small legs moving with a determined little waddle. When she reaches you, she lifts her arms up, holding her jacket out to you with a hopeful look on her face.

“Go now?” she asks, her voice small but insistent, her lips trembling with the effort of saying the words.

You kneel down to her level, your heart hammering in your chest. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet her eyes. “Olivia, sweetheart,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “we can’t take you with us right now.”

Olivia blinks up at you, her eyes wide and confused. “But go now?” she repeats, her little hands clutching at her jacket, her expression one of complete innocence and trust.

Steve crouches down next to you, his own heart breaking as he reaches out to gently rest a hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, we can’t take you home with us today,” he says gently, his voice full of warmth but tinged with sorrow. “You have to stay here for now. But we promise we’ll come back. We’ll see you again soon, okay?”

The words come out easily, but the promise feels like it’s weighing a ton on your heart. You know she doesn’t fully understand, not in the way an adult would, but she’s heard the word "promise" before, and she’s holding on to it as though it’s the most important thing in the world. Her face scrunches up, and her small lips tremble.

“No,” she says, shaking her head frantically. “Stay with you. Please.”

Your heart cracks at the desperation in her voice, at the sheer helplessness in her small form. You reach out, wrapping your arms around her in a gentle embrace, holding her close as her body trembles in your arms.

“Oh, baby, I wish we could,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I really do.”

Olivia clings to you, her little arms wrapped around your neck in a tight hug, as though she’s trying to hold on to you for dear life. The small, helpless sob that escapes her lips pierces your heart, and for a moment, you feel like you’re going to break. You rub her back gently, trying to soothe her, trying to tell her everything’s going to be okay.

But it’s not okay. It’s not okay for her. Not when she’s so desperate for love, for safety, for someone to hold her and take her home. The tears in her eyes are a reflection of all the things she’s been through, all the abandonment, the fear, the loneliness. And now, she’s finally found something she can hold on to, someone who loves her, even if just for a short while. And the idea of losing that… of losing you… is too much for her to bear.

“Please,” she whispers again, her voice cracking as she pulls away slightly, looking at you with tear-filled eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

You feel your own tears begin to fall, and you quickly swipe them away, trying to be strong for her. “Olivia, we’ll come back,” you promise again, your voice breaking slightly. “We’ll come back and see you. We won’t forget about you, okay?”

But even as the words leave your lips, you can see the doubt in her eyes. She’s been abandoned before, left alone by the people who were supposed to take care of her. Your promise feels like just another thing she’s heard before, another empty promise that’s been broken. And that realization, the understanding that she’s already been through so much and still doesn’t trust that anyone will come back for her, makes your heart break even more.

Steve kneels down beside the two of you, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. His hand rests on Olivia’s back, and his eyes are filled with the same sorrow that you’re feeling. He doesn’t know how to fix this, how to ease her pain. All he can do is be here, offering her comfort, offering her warmth in this moment.

“I know it’s hard,” Steve says softly, his voice filled with quiet tenderness. “But we’ll come back. We’ll be here again, and we’ll make sure you’re okay. You’re not alone, Olivia.”

But the little girl doesn’t seem to hear him. Instead, she pulls away from you completely, her small hands pushing against your chest as she backs away, her sobs growing louder.

“No, no!” she cries, her voice shaking with the force of her emotion. “I want to go with you!”

The sound of her tears rips through you like a blade, and you’re not sure how to react. You want to hold her, to comfort her, to make everything okay, but you know that this is a hurt you can’t fix. Not right now. Not in this moment.

Steve stands up, his hand reaching for you as he gives Olivia one last, long look. You see the same look in his eyes—one of helplessness, one of sorrow. You know he’s feeling the same thing you are: the ache of leaving this sweet, innocent little girl who’s finally found something to hold on to.

“We’ll be back, Olivia,” you say one last time, your voice breaking. “I promise.”

The words sound hollow even to you, and you know that the moment you leave, she won’t understand. You can only hope that in time, the promise will mean something to her.

With a heavy heart, you turn away from Olivia, feeling as if you’re leaving a piece of yourself behind. Steve follows you, his hand brushing against your back as you both make your way to the door.

The sound of Olivia’s sobs follows you all the way to the exit, echoing in your ears as you step out of the orphanage. And with every step, it feels as though your heart is breaking just a little bit more.

When you finally get to the apartment, the silence feels deafening. The weight of the day, the weight of Olivia’s tears, is still heavy in the air. You try to focus on something else, anything else, but all you can think about is the little girl you had to leave behind. The little girl who just wanted to be loved.

You sit down on the couch, your hands shaking as you remove your coat, and Steve follows you, sitting beside you, but there’s a coldness in the room now, an emptiness that wasn’t there before. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you try to hold them back, but the weight of it all is too much.

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to do this,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the tears finally fall.

Steve pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your face in his chest. His hand strokes your hair gently, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. There’s nothing to say, really. The pain is too raw, too fresh.

“I know,” Steve says quietly. “I know. It’s hard. I don’t know how we’re supposed to do this either.”

But as you hold each other, you know there’s nothing else to do except try to keep your promise. To keep coming back. To keep showing up for Olivia, even if it means facing this heartbreaking reality every time.

For now, though, you let the tears come. And when you close your eyes, you can still see Olivia’s face, the way she cried, the way she reached for you, and you know, deep down, that she’ll stay with you in your heart. Forever.

The days following that heart-wrenching goodbye at the orphanage were difficult, but in a way, they also brought a sense of purpose. After the promise to Olivia, you and Steve began returning to the orphanage as often as you could, every other day, just as you’d said you would. It wasn’t always easy to make time for those visits, but seeing Olivia’s face light up the moment she saw you both made everything worth it.

Each visit began to feel like part of your routine. The orphanage became a second home of sorts. You and Steve would walk through the doors, already expecting to be met by the eager eyes of the other children. But it was Olivia who always sought you out first, her face breaking into a wide, joyful smile the moment she spotted you.

“Y/n! Steve!” she would call, running to meet you with her arms wide open. The joy in her voice was unmistakable, the sparkle in her eyes shining as brightly as the Christmas lights still twinkling above the doors.

Every time you saw her, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. She was growing more comfortable with you both, more trusting. You would spend hours with her, building towers, drawing pictures, playing with the toys you’d brought, anything that made her happy. And in return, her love for you both seemed to deepen with each passing visit.

There was something undeniably special about Olivia—something that pulled you in every time you saw her. The way she would snuggle into your arms for comfort, the way she’d tug on Steve’s sleeve when she needed help, and the way her face would light up when either of you showed her affection. She had an innocence that you couldn’t help but protect, something about her that made you feel like she deserved all the love the world could give.

One afternoon, as you and Steve walked into the orphanage, you immediately spotted Olivia sitting on the floor, playing with a puzzle. She looked up when she heard your footsteps, and her face broke into a delighted grin.

“Y/n! Steve!” she called excitedly, rushing over to you both. Her little arms stretched wide, and you both knelt down to meet her, your arms open as she threw herself into your embrace.

It had become a comforting routine. Every time you walked in, the other children would eagerly welcome you, but it was always Olivia who seemed to run to you the fastest, her need for connection clear.

You and Steve made it a point to always be there, every other day. Sometimes, you’d bring toys, other times you’d just spend time with her—drawing, building things, or even just sitting and watching her play. It felt like the more time you spent with her, the more you understood her. The more you could see the layers of hurt and fear in her small eyes, but also the joy and hope that began to bloom in her as she spent time with you.

She had learned to trust you. And you had learned to love her.

One of those days, after spending the afternoon together, you and Steve walked with Olivia as she held your hand tightly, her small fingers curling around yours with a confidence she hadn’t had when you first met her.

“Are you ready to go home, sweetheart?” you asked her gently, your voice soft as you knelt down beside her.

She nodded eagerly, her face lighting up. “Home!” she repeated, the word a simple declaration that seemed to hold all the hopes and dreams of a little girl who had never truly known what it was like to have a place to call her own.

And in that moment, it hit you—the weight of it all. The idea that Olivia was waiting for someone to take her home. To give her a real family. You hadn’t expected it, but you had grown attached to her, deeply and irrevocably. The thought of her leaving the orphanage, of her being taken away by someone else, made your heart ache in a way you didn’t fully understand.

You looked at Steve, your heart in your throat. He was watching Olivia too, his eyes filled with the same love and tenderness that you felt for her.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your hand brushing against his.

He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Olivia. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t know. I feel like we’re doing the right thing. Being here for her.”

You didn’t need to say anything more. You both knew what you meant.

The visits continued. Every other day, you found yourselves back in that small, brightly lit room with Olivia, spending hours just playing and talking with her. She was growing so much, and you could see the progress in her. She had become more confident, more comfortable. And every time you saw her face light up with that smile, you couldn’t help but think about her future.

As the weeks passed, you and Steve found yourselves more and more immersed in the routine of visiting Olivia. The orphanage had become a place of warmth and hope. You both began to talk about her future more—what she needed, what she deserved. You both had formed such a deep bond with her, and yet there was a nagging feeling, a longing, that neither of you could ignore.

One evening, as the winter air settled over Brooklyn and the two of you sat on the couch in your apartment, a quiet moment of stillness passed between you. The Christmas lights twinkled softly in the corner, casting a warm glow across the room.

Steve was the first to break the silence.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice low and contemplative, “I’ve been thinking a lot about Olivia lately.”

You turned your head to look at him, your heart beating a little faster. His eyes were filled with the same seriousness that you’d seen before, but this time, there was something else there—an undercurrent of hope, a quiet kind of yearning.

“I know,” you said softly. “I’ve been thinking about her a lot too. I think about her every day.”

Steve took a deep breath, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward slightly. “What do you think about… about becoming her parents?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you weren’t sure you heard him right. You looked at him, trying to read his face, searching for any sign that this wasn’t what it sounded like.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I mean… adopting her,” Steve said, his words slow but firm. “I can’t stop thinking about how much she needs us. How much she needs love. And I want to give that to her. I want to give her a family. I want to be her father. And I know… I know you’ve felt the same way about her.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking deep into your heart. You had thought about it too, many times, but the reality of it, of truly becoming her parents, seemed so overwhelming. There were so many things to consider, so many uncertainties. But the thought of it—of giving Olivia a family, of offering her a real home—made your heart swell with an emotion you couldn’t describe.

“I… I do,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I love her, Steve. I love her like she’s my own. I just didn’t know if we could actually do it.”

Steve’s expression softened, and he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. “I know it’s a big step. But I think we can do it. Together. We’ve already built such a bond with her. She trusts us. She’s already looking to us for that love and security. We can give her that. We can be her family.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him. You never imagined that this was where your life would lead—to a point where you could offer a child the one thing she needed most: love and stability. And yet, as you looked at Steve, you realized that it was the one thing you both were ready for. To build a life together, with Olivia at the center of it all.

“I want to do it,” you said, your voice breaking. “I want to give her everything. I want to adopt her. I want to be her mom.”

Steve’s face lit up with the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. He pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of finality. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice soft, full of love and relief.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. “I’m sure, Steve.”

And in that moment, as you held each other close, everything else faded away. The doubts, the fears—they didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was the love you both had for Olivia, and the life you were about to build together.

“Yes,” you said again, more firmly this time. “I want to adopt Olivia.”

Steve pulled back, his eyes shining with happiness and gratitude. “We’re going to be her parents. I can’t wait to give her the family she deserves.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart full of hope. This was the beginning of something beautiful, something real. A family, a future—together. And you knew, with all your heart, that this was just the beginning of the rest of your lives.

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!

[lynnaredfield3383]

Bokuto's GF - P3

Not my characters. Aged up 21. Fem reader. Warning!!! Weight Insecurities. Chubby reader. Swearing.

This is the night Y/N is going to meet the Mosby team at Onigiri Miya. This is the first time reader will face Atsumu since 2nd year.

Outside Onigiri Miya, Atsumu waited with Hinata for Bokuto to show up. As soon as he heard your laugh, his body tensed. Atsumu's eyes landed on you and to his annoyance, he was still attracted to you.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto waved to his teammates.

"Bo!" Hinata greeted his friend in a half hug.

"Hey, uh, do you think I could talk to Y/N for a minute?" Atsumu rubbed the back of his neck.

Bokuto kissed the top of your head, knowing if you didn't want to you wouldn't.

"See ya in there," Bokuto smiled.

You didn't want to seem standoffish, so you kept your arms at your sides. Atsumu ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"I'm sorry. I treated ya like shit and ya never deserved that. I was going to apologize and confess, but ya transferred."

Atsumu wanted to see if there was any reaction about the confession part. You gave him nothing.

"Apology accepted. I really care for Bokuto, so please don't mess this up for us. I guarantee whatever feelings you had in high school are gone."

"Ya said care."

You had started towards the door, but stopped and looked back at Atsumu.

"Huh?"

"Ya said ya care about Bokuto. Ya didn't say ya love him. So, I still have a chance."

You silently glared at Atsumu for a while. Once you realized he actually believed what he'd just said, you lost your patience.

"Holy shit. Pull your head outta your ass. I don't want anything to do with you, Atsumu Miya. You have no chance in any universe."

You breathed out to calm yourself down before entering. You were immediately pulled against Bokuto as he introduced you to his MSBY teammates. You ignored Atsumu the moment he came in.

Akaashi pulled you away at one point to discuss Bokuto's upcoming birthday.

Atsumu pulled Bokuto aside as soon as you disappeared with Akaashi.

"Everything good?" Bokuto asked brightly.

"Yeah. Well, the thing is, man. I still have feelings for her. I...I just want to be straight with ya. Not tryna steal her or anythin."

Bokuto laughed until he realized Atsumu was serious.

"It is her choice if she dumps me. I'm not worried about what might happen."

Bokuto walked back to the loud, rowdy table, his eyes searching for you. Atsumu's words had upset him, and now he just wanted your arms around him.

"Hey babe. You okay?"

Though he was smiling and getting on with the guys, you could tell he was off. Just by how he squeezed you tightly and nodded during the conversations.

It was one am when you and Bokuto got back to your apartment. He pulled you down onto the bed with him, pulling you as close as he could. You made him so comfortable and happy he couldn't imagine life without you.

"Y/N. Babe, I need to tell you something," Bokuto's thoughts were getting to him.

You rolled onto your back half awake to look up at him.

"What's wrong, Kou?"

"Sumu told me he still likes you."

You were angry with Atsumu, but your only priority was Bokuto. You cupped the side of Bokuto's face as he leaned over you.

"Kou, that was high school. Who am I with?" You asked gently.

"Me."

You had learned quickly to treat Bokuto like the child he was, so things were always clear between you two.

"Hmm. Why am I with you?"

Bokuto's golden eyes lit up, his smile growing wider as he thought about all the reasons you'd told him in the last 8 months.

"Because I'm kind, gentle, sweet, honest, trusting, gorgeous with an amazing ass and sexiest back you've ever seen," Bokuto finished with his favorite reasons.

You laughed knowing he was always goofy like this, and you loved it.

"Kou, why am I with you?"

Bokuto's expression melted completely.

"Because you love me. Because you want to choose me every day."

"Exactly. Now go to sleep, gorgeous."

"Yes, ma'am."

Bokuto happily resumed your spooning position, burying his face in your neck. It was rare when Bokuto wanted to be the big spoon, but when he did you enjoyed it as much as he did.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Heyo! Got a question or two. (Or six-)

- Do you ship Mabifica? Or Dipcifica for that matter? I personally like the former more but I'm just imagining Bill's reaction to having to deal with the fact the girl who insulted Mabel is now dating her/her brother.

Actually, even if you ship neither, I just want his reaction the the Pine twins now being friends(?) With Paz.

Would he try to scare her off? Would he warm up to her?

(If you couldn't already tell, Pacifica is one of my favorite characters, just below Mabel.)

- Does Stan and Ford ever get as close as they did at the end of the show? I mean, Ford must be reeling, sure. But.. Do they ever get on that boat?

- Does Bill make an effort to reconcile with Ford? Even just a show of apology?

- And does Ford bond with the twins? Would he just see them as another thing Bill has tainted?

- Also. Are you planning to make fanfiction of this? Or a comic? Or any media that tells the story? It's now become an integral part of my life.

- Last one! What other bonding moments does Bill have with Wendy? We've got the bets, yeah. But is that all?

(I found your au an hour and a half ago, and I'm already this invested. That is absolutely amazing, considering I don't really latch on to things. (Thanks a lot, autism) I love the art, and I love the tidbits. If it ever gets too overwhelming, don't be afraid to take a breather!! ><)

Hello! I shall do my best to answer!

— I’m personally a Dipcifica enjoyer myself! I don’t see them getting together this summer, so it’s less of a dating thing, but Bill would be decent at recognising the signs of a crush forming thanks to Mabel exposure all summer. He’d be completely against it. He’s listing every reason why the Northwests suck to Dipper, all the times Pacifica has done something to make Mabel feel awful! He’s maybe a little dramatic about it, in true Bill fashion, and is taken aback when Mabel insists it’s okay.

Pacifica’s changing, they both say! Mabel fully intends to be Dipper’s wingman!

Bill finds that idea ridiculous. People don’t just change. Humans are known for staying the same once they’ve settled into their body — that’s just how it is.

Pacifica has proven to be the opposite of everything Bill has taught the twins, and so he sees the blooming friendship as a threat and doesn’t like it. It doesn’t help that it’s around the time his fear of changing is at an all time high, so he’s maybe projecting a little onto Pacifica.

He definitely tries to scare her off initially, and when that doesn’t work, he settles with threatening her should she ever make Mabel upset against. His threats are… very intense and it’s clear the issue runs deeper than just Pacifica. He really goes for her insecurities. Honestly, this may be one of his worst moments in front of the twins? Stan ends up having to intervene and try to figure out what’s going on in Bill’s head beyond just being protective over Mabel.

(Pacifica girl I am so sorry)

He doesn’t warm to her per se, not yet, as much as he learns to tolerate her sometimes being around. She does her best to avoid him anyhow.

— Still working out the exact details so I don’t have much to say right now, but yes, he does. A verbal apology from Bill is also kind of a big deal. Like Stan struggles saying Please, and Ford struggles saying thank you, Bill struggles saying sorry.

— Ford does bond with the twins! I think I mentioned in a post a bit ago that Dungeons Dungeons and more Dungeons is like a gateway for their relationship, and it helps Ford become more comfortable around them and vice versa. Though the general unease still lingers at times, Dipper starts to get comfortable asking him more and more questions about Gravity Falls, and Mabel knits him a few sweaters and tries to catch him up on all the pop culture he’s missed etc. Sometimes he snaps at them when he needs space, and he tends to hide behind Stan some days, but they do get to know this new Ford, and begin to get closer to him bit by bit before Summer ends.

I think he does see them as something Bill has tainted, but not in an irreversible way. If anything, it motivates him to try and get to know them more once the initial fear has settled, to try and re-instate himself as Ford Pines, and be their Great Uncle.

— I don’t plan on making a fic or a comic, mainly because I am busy right now and juggling a lot. It just isn’t something feasible for me and I notoriously don’t do well managing long projects. But, I am hoping to do art and maybe mini comics for it, once I defeat my art block and style crisis, perhaps some one-shots too if I can also defeat my eternal writers block. I’m honoured you think that way of it though!!

— They generally have a very positive relationship! Bill is seen as the cooler Stan by her friends, mainly because of the fact he doesn’t really act his age, and happily enables anything they want to do, and so whenever she needs something, she tends to go to him. (“No hard feelings Stan!”) And If Stan taught her how to shoplift, Bill probably taught her how to get away with murder, not that she’d really need that, the thought still counts. They also share similar music tastes, so when Bill’s around the shack, he’ll ask Wendy to blast some AC/DC while they work. He’s also taught her all the ways to get under Stan’s skin, because he knows for a fact she’ll use them.

I think this AU too, he’s the one who showed her the rooftop spot. He encouraged any form of rebelling against the system, even if that means slacking and getting Stan to shout at both of them.

Thank you so much!? That means a lot to hear and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! And I appreciate it, I’m trying to take it slow and answer whatever asks I can and when I can, to avoid getting overwhelmed.