#they also made me read them bedtime stories for an HOUR

[vampyre-rat]

my brother and sister (12/13) are having a sleepover at my house tonight and as im making dinner my brother comes up and asks:

"can we listen to swears? not say them but just listen to them bc theres this game we want to play..."

"uh yeah- do you want a fork? or will you eat your spring rolls with your hands"

like idk why you're even asking me dude no one in our family can string together a sentence without cursing 😭

anyway fast forward a few hours, theyre brushing their teeth and talking about "tickle testicle tag" and laughing their heads off. truly the duality of preteens i guess...

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“The monsters gone and your daddy here…”

Batboys as fathers

⸻

1. Jason Todd(ALLL girls, 2-4 girls)

• Protective but soft dad: Looks like he’d teach his kid how to hotwire a car (and maybe he does), but he’s the first to tear up during a school play.

• Reads bedtime stories with dramatic flair: Does all the voices, sometimes throws in a few expletives before quickly correcting himself.

• Rides or dies for his kid: Anyone bullies them? Jason shows up at school with the most terrifying “talk” a teacher or principal has ever had the misfortune of enduring.

• Teaches them practical skills early: Like street smarts, how to throw a punch, and the importance of carrying snacks.

• “If anyone hurts you, just tell Dad” vibes: Then he vanishes for a couple of hours. No one asks questions.

⸻

2. Dick Grayson(3 girls one boy)

• Golden retriever dad: Super involved, enthusiastic, and emotionally available.

• Dance party central: His kid knows every 80s and 90s pop hit. They have choreographed routines.

• Always has a band-aid, a snack, and dad jokes ready: And somehow manages to make even the worst day better.

• Takes a million pictures: Captures every moment — first step, first fall, even the tantrums.

• Teaches empathy and kindness first: Encourages emotional expression and gentle strength.

⸻

3. Tim Drake(2 boys)

• Anxious but dedicated: Googled “how to be a good dad” about 1,500 times.

• Coffee-fueled midnight cuddles: If the kid’s up late, Tim’s probably already awake working on something — but drops everything for them.

• Super into educational toys: Probably has flashcards and a toddler coding game by the time they’re three.

• A quiet anchor: His love is subtle but steady. He might not always know what to say, but his presence means everything.

• Raises a tiny, smart-mouthed mini-detective: And secretly loves it.

⸻

4. Damian Wayne(Twin dad, one of each)

• Surprisingly gentle (with his kid): Doesn’t trust most people with them and is always watching with eagle eyes.

• Teaches discipline, but cuddles in secret: Has a hard time being emotionally open but melts when his child hugs him first.

• Introduces them to animals early: His kid is on a first-name basis with most of the zoo. Also knows how to feed a bat properly by age five.

• Mini-me energy: His kid is probably as stubborn, blunt, and deadly smart as he is.

• Takes parenting as a sacred duty: He’ll raise a warrior, yes, but one who understands mercy and love.

⸻

5. Bruce Wayne(girl)

• Trying his best: He has no idea what he’s doing, even though he has so many children

• Overprotective to the extreme: GPS tracker in their shoes, private security at the playground — you name it.

• Teaches with stories: Lessons often come through stories about “a friend” who was also a vigilante and made mistakes.

• Rare but meaningful vulnerability: Those quiet, late-night talks where Bruce opens up just a little are life-changing.

• Sees being a father as redemption: He’s determined to give his child the safety and love he never had.

⸻

[be-xkyy]

Hello! Since I read your Yandere stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do our yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

Hii Dear Anon!

First of all I'm glad you liked my content, thank you! And secondly, your question is very good Anon, although this will be a bit short, I hope you like it! 🖤

How many children would the yanderes have with reader? Would they be jealous of their children?

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Masterlist

Yandere Farmer Link

This man definitely wants lots of kids, five or six at the very least and about nine or ten at the most, I think he'd mostly prefer to have boys (since he thinks they're easier to handle) but he wouldn't mind having one or two girls, he has a big farm so he doesn't worry about space and he makes enough money from the cattle and crops to support them all.

As for being jealous of his children when they're breastfed or jealous in general, I don't think so. I honestly don't think he's the "Stay away son, she's mine" type but he also wouldn't let you have much time with the kids especially if they're boys since if you spoil them too much he thinks you'll make them "weak" and "mama's boys" which he doesn't want, so when they learn to walk he'll take them with him to do the farm chores.

"The kids are coming to work with me today. What if they're three and four? That's the perfect age to start getting to know everything, don't question me."

Yandere Cowboy Link

He would want at least 3 children, two boys and a girl, although he might want more, depending on his mood.

And regarding getting jealous when watching his child eat or in general, I think he would get a little jealous, although he would try to be playful and downplay it, saying things like "He's a little chubby, don't you think you feed him too much?" Or "Look, it's 1 PM, isn't it time for a nap? Come on, son, it's time to sleep." Of course you don't let him take the baby away, it's not his bedtime yet.

"Baby doll, when I was a child I was fed and put to sleep at any hour even if I didn't want to, and look at me, everything turned out fine!"

Yandere Dilf Link

This poor man wants to have two girls, two little princesses that look like you, he already has one son so you'd rather have girls but he doesn't care if one is a boy or if they both end up being boys (although not having a daughter that looks like you would break his heart) he's one of the few yanderes that promises to have only two children and keeps it. He doesn't force you to have more even if the ones you give birth to aren't the gender he wanted.

Well now I don't think he would get jealous of his children while breastfeeding, rather I think he would touch the baby's head while breastfeeding even leaving kisses on its chubby cheek, although seeing you breastfeeding might excite him a little (he has a thing for tits and milk, okay?) but he wouldn't try anything at that moment on the contrary he would try to hide it.

"You're so pretty little girl... look at that little nose and those round cheeks... you're so precious sweetheart... just like your mommy"

Yandere Sugar Daddy Link

Another one who wants to have two kids, only he wants to have a pair a boy and a girl, no more kids, just two. Not one more, not one less. I think he would have favoritism with his girl and the boy would be more attached to you as a result.

He would get jealous, he doesn't even want to hide it, although he would be more mean if the one you were breastfeeding was the boy, he would stare from the leather chair right in front of you, watch you rub the baby's head while he eats and make comments like "You don't rub my head when I suck on your boobs, don't rub his head either" or "You know there are high end milks on the market made from breast milk, why don't we try giving him that instead of your milk?" if you scold him or look at him the wrong way he would throw up his hands in surrender and say in an offended voice.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! You should be grateful that I care, that brat will make your tits sag!"

[antiquarianfics]

A Slip of the Tongue

a/n: how would y’all like an un-proofread one shot i wrote? ‘twas inspired by someone else’s story with a similar concept, but i lost it. :( anyhoo. i made you some content.

warnings: brief mention of death, otherwise none. google translate russian (my bad, i’m monolingual).

masterlist

—

“Me and Nina played on the swings today!” Your daughter, Ellie, tells you as you strap her into her car seat.

“Yeah? That so?” You ask. This is one of your favorite parts of your day; that is, listening to Ellie tell you about her day at school.

“Yeah! Nina is new. Her daddy got a new job and had to move them here. She speaks 2 languages!”

“Wow! That’s really cool, baby. What other language does she speak?”

“I think she said… Um. Something that started with an R.” Ellie scrunches her face up in consideration.

“Russian?” You ask, finishing buckling her in. You close the door and move around the car, getting in yourself.

“Yeah, I think,” Ellie replies.

“Did you know Bucky speaks Russian?” You ask her, sharing the tidbit about your boyfriend with your daughter.

Ellie loves Bucky, and he her. When Ellie’s father passed away, you truly never thought you would move on, and it killed you Ellie would grow up without a father. Then, you met Bucky, and he was wonderful. It was a complete meet-cute. You ran into him—literally—in a coffee shop 5 minutes away from Ellie’s school. You were in a rush, trying to get your coffee, your belongings, and your bearings to go pick up Ellie, and in your frantic fumbling, you crashed into a stranger who, rather than getting upset by being hit and drenched in a late, simply steadied you by the arms and asked if you were alright.

Bucky insisted on buying you a new coffee because “It’s my fault for being on your way, Doll. Besides, my ma’d kill me if she knew I passed up an opportunity to ask a pretty woman on a date.”

The admission took you by surprise, and Bucky later revealed it took him by surprise, too. Something about you, he said, brought out his old 40s confidence. He didn’t worry about scaring you like he would anyone else. In fact, he said, in that moment, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, and he never was. He was just Bucky.

That day, though, you’d declined, telling him you had to pick your daughter up from school, but you quickly amended your statement to let him know you were at that very coffee shop everyday for an hour before you picked up Ellie. “So,” you had said, “if my being a single mom doesn’t scare you, you can buy me that make-up latte another time.” And, by god, Bucky Barnes was at that coffee shop then next day, waiting with your latte.

Fast forward to today, and Bucky practically lives with you and Ellie. He still has his apartment, but he spends 6 out of 7 days at your house. It’s so natural, though, you wish he’d just ditch the apartment and make it official. After all, he is an excellent roommate. He does the dishes, cleans up after himself, doesn’t hog the blankets, and—most importantly—he is fantastic with Ellie. He plays with her, he reads her bedtime stories, he cuts her food for her, and so much more. He is everything to you and Ellie.

So, when you tell Ellie that Bucky also speaks more than one language, you can’t help but grin when she rambles the rest of the car ride home about how she is going to ask him about that language he speaks—what language does Bucky speak again, Mama?—and then she is going to learn it too so she can show Nina.

Ellie’s rambling lasts all the way home, into the house, and into the living room where she drops her backpack on the ground and runs to Bucky, jumping in his lap with no warning. Bucky grunts at the impact, but he smiles fondly at the young girl.

“Hey, El,” he greets. “How was school?”

“Bucky, I made a new friend! She’s so cool. Did you know she speaks 2 languages! That’s really cool. I can only speak 1 language. Her daddy got a new job, so they came here. She’s my new best friend. I don’t remember what language she speaks, though.”

Ellie speaks a million miles a minute as she tries to fill Bucky in on her day. Bucky makes eye contact with you over her head and you merely smile and shrug, making Bucky grin.

“Russian,” you offer, as you move to sink down onto the couch next to your boyfriend and your daughter.

“Russian!” Ellie exclaims, nodding her head excitedly. “Mama said you speak Russian, Bucky. Do you speak Russian?”

“I do,” Bucky confirms, laughing at the amazed look that crosses Ellie’s face.

“Say something! Say something!” She begs.

“Yeah, Bucky, say something in Russian!” You join in on Ellie’s begging with a laugh.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки,” Bucky says, chuckling to himself as he watches Ellie’s amazed face.

“Wow,” she says, eyes transfixed on Bucky.

You laugh. “Yeah, wow,” you confirm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to go to the kitchen.

You make it just across the room when you stop dead in your tracks, turning to make eye contact with Bucky and attempt to gauge his reaction to Ellie’s words.

“I can’t wait to tell Nina tomorrow that my daddy speaks Russian, too,” Ellie says, lying her head on Bucky’s chest.

You and Bucky make eye contact across the room, and you hold a silent conversation.

Bucky’s eyes are widened in shock, but he raises an eyebrow at you as if to ask, “Did she just call me her daddy?”

You shrug, mouth slightly agape. Ellie has never called Bucky her daddy before, but it doesn’t surprise you. Bucky is always around, and he acts like a father figure regardless of your relationship with him. So, you say nothing, just shrug your shoulders and hope Bucky gets the message:

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell her not to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bucky shakes his head to let you know he doesn’t mind. Really likes it even.

Finally he speaks, “Yeah, tell her your daddy speaks Russian. I’ll even teach you some if you want.”

Ellie shoots up in Bucky’s lap, grabbing his face between her hands, and seriously begging him to follow through with his promise immediately.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She exclaims. “What did you say a minute ago?” She asks, assigning her first Russian lesson.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки. It means, “Did you two know I love you? My beautiful, silly girls.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

pt 3- raising their child

how the Mha boys are raising their baby

tags/warnings- drabble, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, aged up (post-canon) children, super corny, pls help me tag things omds, also someone please request something i cannot think for myself anymore

characters- izuku midoryria, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, denki kamanari, ejirio Kirishima, fumikage tokoyami, koji koda, mezo shoji, tamaki amajiki, hanta sero, tenya iida 

izuku midoryria

Izuku is the kind of dad who meticulously reads every parenting book he can get his hands on, but somehow still manages to get the diaper on backward half the time. When your newborn is crying, he’s the one pacing the room, muttering about "positive reinforcement" while bouncing on his toes.

As your child grows, he’s the ultimate supporter at every milestone. You’ll find him cheering louder than necessary at every first step and shouting encouragements like "You’ve got this!" while your little one tries to climb onto the couch for the hundredth time. He’s also the king of homemade baby food, though his attempts at blending veggies sometimes end with a face full of green mush.

katsuki bakugo

Bakugo wasn’t exactly a natural when it came to handling his newborn daughter. The first time he held her, he looked as if he were holding a live grenade. But as the weeks went on, he learned how to support her tiny head, how to soothe her when she cried, and how to survive on two hours of sleep.

By the time she was a toddler, Bakugo was fiercely protective but also determined that his daughter would be strong. He played rough with her, not in a dangerous way, but enough that she learned how to get back up when she fell. And when she scraped her knee, Bakugo was there to help her up, a quiet pride in his eyes. “You’re tougher than that, right?” he’d ask, and she’d nod, wiping her tears. Despite his gruff exterior, he had a soft spot for her that no one else ever saw.

shoto todoroki

Shoto’s parenting style is calm and collected, with a side of deep introspection. He’s the type who will meticulously plan out every detail of your child’s first birthday party, making sure it’s perfect but also surprisingly low-key. His idea of “playtime” includes building elaborate block structures that look like they belong in a museum.

When it comes to milestones, he’s quietly proud, and his praise is subtle but genuine. His toddler might get a small smile and a “Good job” when they manage to stack blocks without them tumbling. Bath times are a relaxing affair with him showing off his mastery of creating a perfect bubble bath while discussing deep philosophical questions.

Shoto is also the dad who reads bedtime stories with a soothing, calm voice, occasionally glancing at his child with a look that says he’s already planning their future—complete with a detailed schedule that somehow balances their hero career with family time.

denki kamanari

Denki was a nervous wreck when his daughter was born, fumbling with the tiny baby clothes and panicking every time she cried. The fear of accidentally shocking her lingered in the back of his mind, making him hesitant to hold her at first. But with time, he learned to relax, realizing that he could handle being a dad without causing any unintended static.

As his daughter grew into a toddler, Denki became the ultimate fun dad. He was always coming up with new games, chasing her around the house, and making her laugh with his goofy antics. They’d spend hours together, Denki pretending to be a villain while she played the hero, her laughter echoing through the rooms.

ejiro kirishima

Kirishima was over the moon when his son was born, though the reality of fatherhood hit hard. The sleepless nights, the constant worry, it was tougher than any fight he’d been in. But he handled it all with a smile, knowing that his son was worth every challenge.

As his son grew into a toddler, Kirishima made sure to teach him the importance of being strong, not just physically but emotionally too. They’d spend hours play-wrestling, Kirishima always letting his son “win” with a proud grin. He wanted his son to know that it was okay to cry, to feel things deeply, but also to get back up and keep going. “That’s what being a real man is all about,” he’d say, ruffling his son’s hair.

fumikage tokoyami

Raising a kid when you’ve got a shadow bird attached to you 24/7 isn’t exactly a walk in the park, but Tokoyami’s managing—kind of. At first, he was terrified to even hold the baby, worried that Dark Shadow might get a bit too enthusiastic and knock over the crib or something. But after a few awkward tries, he figured it out.

The first few months were a blur of sleepless nights and constant feedings. Fumikage tried to keep his cool, but there were moments when he’d catch himself nearly panicking over the smallest things—like the time the baby sneezed, and Dark Shadow went into full-on “protect mode,” thinking it was some kind of attack.

“You can’t just attack the air, Dark Shadow,” Fumikage grumbled, trying to soothe both his crying son and his overzealous quirk. “He’s not in danger. It’s just a sneeze.”

As the months went on, things settled into a routine—if you could call it that. Fumikage found himself singing lullabies in a low, gravely voice that somehow always managed to calm the baby down. He also quickly realized that parenting was less about being the stoic hero and more about being adaptable.

As she grows, Tokoyami finds himself caught between teaching her to be as level-headed as he is and letting her enjoy her wild, toddler imagination. He’s still the calm, stoic guy everyone knows, but there’s a soft spot a mile wide for his daughter. He reads her bedtime stories every night—dark fantasy tales, of course—though he leaves out the scarier parts (for now). When she finally drifts off, he can’t help but smile, knowing that for all his quirks, he does a pretty decent job at this whole dad thing.

koji koda

Koji was a nervous wreck when you first brought your daughter home. He spent the first few weeks tiptoeing around the house, terrified of waking her up. You’d catch him holding her like she was made of glass, his massive hands almost comically delicate as he cradled her tiny body.

The first time she cried, he panicked. Not the normal, "Oh no, the baby’s crying" kind of panic, but a full-blown, "What if I’m doing something wrong?" meltdown. You had to gently remind him that babies cry sometimes—often, actually—and that it wasn’t a reflection on his parenting skills. By the time she was walking (or more accurately, waddling), Koji was all in. The house became a playground, with Koji building elaborate pillow forts and turning the living room into a jungle gym. You’d find them giggling together as he crawled on all fours, pretending to be a bear while she toddled after him, squealing in delight.

mezo shoji

shoji is the literal definition of a hands-on dad, from day one, he’s been a natural. When his son was born, he didn’t hesitate to scoop him up, all six arms moving in perfect sync to cradle the baby, grab the bottle, and pull out a burping cloth all at once. It was like watching a pro juggler at work.

But Shoji’s biggest challenge? Figuring out what to do with all his limbs when his son started crawling. One moment, the little guy’s pulling himself up on Shoji’s leg, the next, he’s using his dad’s arm as a makeshift jungle gym. There’s been more than one occasion where Shoji’s found himself tangled in a mess of limbs and baby giggles, trying to figure out how to keep the kid from climbing up to his shoulders.

Shoji also has a knack for turning ordinary moments into teaching opportunities. Whether it’s showing his son how to gently handle small animals or patiently explaining why climbing the curtains isn’t the best idea, he’s all about helping his kid grow up strong and kind. And when bedtime rolls around, there’s nothing better than curling up together—Shoji’s arms wrapped protectively around his son, the world outside quiet and calm.

tamaki amajiki

Tamaki was a nervous wreck when the baby first came home. He wasn’t sure how to hold them, let alone how to change a diaper without feeling like he was about to pass out. But despite the initial anxiety, he quickly found his rhythm—or as close to a rhythm as you can get with a newborn.

Night feedings became a special (if sleep-deprived) bonding time. You’d often find him talking to the baby in a soft, almost shy voice, as if still getting used to the idea that this tiny human was actually his. “You’re so small... but you eat a lot, huh? Just like your mom... I mean, in a good way!” i love my losers

As the baby grew into a toddler, Tamaki’s shyness around them melted away. He still got flustered, but now he’d get down on the floor to play, making exaggerated faces and noises that had the little one in fits of laughter. “Look at you, so strong! Just like... um, well, just like someone strong!” He’d turn beet red at the compliment, even if it was directed at his own child.

Tantrums were a challenge, though. The first time the toddler threw a fit, Tamaki just sat there, wide-eyed, completely unsure of what to do. “Uh... d-do you need something? A snack? A nap? Both? Can we do both?” It was awkward, but his gentle nature always seemed to calm the toddler down eventually.

hanta sero

Sero was surprisingly relaxed when his daughter was born, taking the sleepless nights and endless diapers in stride. He’d joke that handling her was easier than fighting villains, though he was always careful and attentive. He loved making her laugh, using his tape to create silly shapes and toys to entertain her.

As she grew into a toddler, Sero became her best playmate. He’d take her to the park, using his tape to swing her high into the air, her giggles the soundtrack to his day. Sero taught her the importance of being flexible, both physically and mentally, always encouraging her to try new things and be herself. He was easygoing, but he also made sure she knew when to be serious, balancing fun with responsibility. tenya iida

Iida approached fatherhood with the same meticulous planning he applied to everything else. He had schedules, charts, and routines in place before his son was even born. But when his son arrived, Iida realized that not everything could be planned. He adapted quickly, learning to go with the flow, though he still couldn’t help but double-check everything twice, he's the sort of parent that turns jokes and stories into lessons and scoldings

As his son grew into a toddler, Iida took pride in teaching him discipline and respect. They’d go on “patrols” together, Iida showing him the importance of order and responsibility, even if it was just a walk around the neighbourhood. But Iida also made sure to let loose sometimes, indulging in his son’s love for racing games and playing tag. He was a stern but loving father, always leading by example and instilling in his son the values that guided his own life.

[afra-blueraz]

=== Diabolik Lovers Luv Pillow Time Headcanons ===

Before going to sleep, Yui suggests to Shu to scroll social media.

Shu was not very interested in it, but he listened to her, but after a while, he got bored and decided to sleep. The first thing he likes to do is lie quietly on Yui's legs and sleep.

Shu does this and Yui complains. Shu puts a finger in front of her mouth so that she doesn't make so much noise and asks her to caress him instead of making noise.

Yui puffs her cheeks but has no other choice and starts stroking his hair slowly.

Shu enjoys this work very much. After a few hours, Yui fell asleep and Shu realized that Yui's hand was not moving until he saw that she was asleep.

Shu hugs her and closes his eyes to fall asleep while hugging Yui's soft body and smelling her sweet smell.

Reiji makes Yui a delicious tea. And Yui appreciates him with happiness and laughter.

Those two people drink tea and talk to each other for several hours.

Reiji won't admit it, but he loves spending time with Yui before bed, and he can't help but smile when Yui compliments his tea with a sweet smile.

After a short while, Reiji notices that Yui is tired. He arranges the bed and helps Yui lie down gently.

After doing his chores, Reiji goes back to the bed and falls asleep holding Yui in his arms.

Ayato makes the most stupid suggestions to Yui. Like attacking each other with pillows. Or drown someone else under the pillows. In the end, Yui decides to make takoyaki for Ayato.

Ayato eats the takoyaki with a smile and while surprisingly, praises Yui's good hand cooking.

Ayato falls asleep earlier than Yui and Yui tries to fit herself in Ayato's arms and sleep.

Kanato likes to invite Yui to a tea party for Teddy and his dolls before going to bed.

Yui talks to Teddy and Kanato's dolls and they have a beautiful tea party together.

Kanato sleeps holding Teddy in his arms and Yui throws the blanket over him and sleeps next to Kanato while holding his hand.

Laito suggests to Yui that they solve the crossword puzzle. The idea seemed too simple to Yui at first glance, and she was surprised that Laito didn't make more terrible suggestions.

However, Laito made a bet that if Yui couldn't guess every word correctly, Laito would punish her with a kiss.

Yui guessed that Laito might have another plan and as she thinks it was not an ordinary puzzle and every time Laito whispered the correct answer in her ear she couldn't stop herself from blushing and Laito kissed Yui again and again.

Yui fell asleep while sitting in Laito's arms.

Laito smiled and put the puzzle aside and placed one last kiss on Yui's cheek and fell asleep holding her in his arms.

Subaru has bought Yui a plushie toy to make her happy.

Yui screams with joy when she sees the plushie and hugs Subaru and kisses him.

Subaru, whose face is completely red, hugs Yui and takes her to his coffin.

" What? You don't expect me to sleep without my pillow? You have your pillow, I took mine. "

Subaru fell asleep hugging Yui tightly in the darkness of his coffin.

Ruki's favorite thing to do before going to bed is reading. He collects a collection of his favorite books to read to Yui.

Ruki tells Yui to sit in his arms, then reads to her while is holding Yui.

Yui listens to Ruki's stories while feeling his warmth and smiling.

Yui is slowly falling asleep in Ruki's arms. Ruki puts his book aside and sleeps next to Yui. He kisses her forehead and whispers in her ear. "Good night my cute angel"

Kou likes to sing to Yui before going to sleep, but Yui doesn't want them to disturb others' sleep with their noise.

For this reason, Yui suggests Kou to cook and try different pastas.

Yui and Kou have a sweet cooking time together and then they both go to bed to sleep.

Yuma has no interest in a bedtime party. He just wants Yui to go into his arms without any noise so that he can sleep peacefully with Yui's good smell after a hard day's work.

Yui puffs her cheeks and begs again and again. Yuma also inevitably accepts.

Yui will be very happy. She has already prepared a vase and asks Yuma to take care of it before going to sleep.

They give fertilizer and water to the flower. And Yui asks Yuma to talk to the flower.

Yuma laughs at Yui's silly request, but Yui confides that talking and loving flowers makes them grow better.

Yui takes Yuma's hand and starts talking to the flower. Yuma, who seems to have embraced all the love in the world, listens to Yui's words with a smile.

Yui falls asleep after a while. Yuma kisses Yui and sleeps next to her.

Azusa doesn't care what he does. He just likes to spend time with his beloved Eve.

Yui and Azusa reminisce and Azusa tells Yui about his knives.

Azusa talks about his love for Yui and Yui blushes. Then they sleep while hugging each other.

Carla enjoys talking to Yui about demon culture and their art, and Yui listens eagerly.

Carla caresses Yui's cheek and tells her that he is proud of how much she is trying to learn about demon culture and history as his future queen.

Yui smiles and thanks Carla. After Yui falls asleep, Carla kisses her forehead and sleeps next to her.

Shin prepares a package of peanuts and suggests to Yui that they have a competition who can break and eat the most with their teeth.

Shin does it very quickly because of his strong teeth, while Yui can't even break just one.

Shin laughs at her and pats her head like a baby to comfort her. He then breaks one himself and gives it mouth to mouth while kissing Yui and smiling.

At first, Kino hugs Yui and they play video games together. But Yui is not very interested in it.

That's why Yui suggests Kino to eat chocolate and talk.

They share chocolates with different flavors and spend sweet times together.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

First time Noah goes to reader's bed in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare after her and Tony got together, so Tony's there to help comfort him too. Tony admiring how well she can calm down Noah and comfort him, while also doing his best to comfort him and even asking if he wants to sleep there in their room that night. Cuddle pile ensues.

Easing Noah’s nightmares - Christmas With You

A/N: I think I like this little family too much. My fluff loving heart is full 🥹🤍 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Single Mom! Reader

Warning: DAD MATERIAL TONY? PERFECT BOYFRIEND TONY?

Christmas With You Masterlist

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“Tony!”

“Wha—? Love you.” He mumbled, half asleep as he draped his arm around your middle, snuggling closer to you, deeming the conversation to be over.

“Stop snoring.” You rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as his face pressed up against your hair. You two had gone to bed hours before, though Tony’s snores kept waking you up.

“I don’t snore. You snore.” He murmured, throwing his leg over both of yours, locking you in before pressing his entire front against your back, making you chuckle at his childish behaviour.

“I will record you one of these days for proof, Mr. Stark.” Your voice was quiet yet playful as you got comfortable, thrumming your fingers against his arm.

“For your information, I only lightly snore when I’m tired, and that’s thanks to you, you really wore me out.” His voice caused you to blush, hitting him lightly as he chuckled before kissing the back your ear softly.

As you settled into his comfortable embrace, you couldn’t help but think how life had turned out this past year; meeting Tony Stark - someone who’d changed your life for the better, made you believe in love, take chances and build a life of your dreams. Happiness was just one of the few emotions you felt when you were together, which was constant now that you were living with him.

You were grateful that Noah had been eased into this relationship so flawlessly too. He was just as comfortable with Tony now as he was with you, even demanded bedtime stories from him on several occasions. It was a whole other conversation watching Tony with your son, he was just so good with him. Patient and thoughtful, he gave you all sorts of feels every time they interacted, ones that ended up with you dreaming about expanding your family.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you had stirred awake to find Noah tugging at your blanket as he stood near you, clutching Snuggles.

“I had a bad dream, Mama.” He whispered, on the verge of tears as you sat up, making Tony’s arm slide down, waking the man in the process too.

“It’s okay, baby. It was not real. Come here.” You opened your arms for him, but he hesitated, looking down at his pyjamas that were ruined.

“I—I wet the bed.”

His voice was so soft, almost reluctant as he watching Tony rub sleep from his eyes, asking if he was alright.

“It’s alright, Noah. We’ll get you cleaned, come on.” You picked him up and rubbed his back, knowing it calmed him down as you slowly walked out of your bedroom and into his.

Tony followed wordlessly, changing Noah’s bedsheets while you cleaned him and got him into a fresh pair of pjs. It wasn’t too frequent for Noah to have nightmares but when he did, they usually got bad, and he ended up wetting himself. Your heart swelled when Tony did his routine ‘checks’ to make sure there was no monster under Noah’s bed, reassuring him that him and Dum-E would get rid of them for him if they ever came back.

“Do you want to sleep in our bed, kid?” He offered, caressing his head which was laid on your chest as you hugged him close. You met Tony’s eyes as if to make sure you heard him right.

Noah nodded silently, holding his arms out for Tony to pick him up, a gesture that touched your heart. He usually clung to you but the fact that he trusted Tony enough to let him comfort him after a bad dream really took you by surprise. You watched Tony hold your son, his arms strong and solacing as Noah laid his head against his shoulder.

Once the three of you settled in your shared bed, you brought the blankets up to Noah’s chest to make sure he warm and secure. Tony lay on his side watching you comfort your son with a fond smile on his face. He always knew what a wonderful mother you were, he was in awe of you already, but moments like these made him want more. Noah was already a son to him, he’d wormed his way into his heart and he couldn’t wait to expand his family with you.

“Eyes closed, my little jelly bean. Sweet dreams. I love you.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead.

“I love you too, Mama.” He closed his eyes, keeping one arm around Snuggles while holding yours tight with the other.

“Good night, Noah.” Tony whispered, caressing the hair that fell on Noah’s forehead gently.

“Night, Dada.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Noah’s voice was as quiet as the night but you both heard him. Not stopping the tears that gathered in your eyes, you looked up at Tony who was blinking back his own tears. Reaching out, you interlaced your fingers with Tony’s, squeezing them before he kissed the back of your hand and then Noah’s forehead.

The moment would forever be etched in memory as you two watched your son drift off to sleep, your hearts full of love and minds with the beautiful possibilities of what was to follow.

[bleedingoptimism]

Steve only agreed to go out with Tommy after their parents set them up because he “owed” his dad for ruining a potential business partnership for him at a dinner party.

To the rest of the guests, the man had just tripped and embarrassed himself but he knew and Steve knew and Steve’s dad knew: Steve had tripped him. But the guy had groped his ass when he crossed him on his way to the bathroom. He had it coming.

And even if his father had agreed with him after Steve told him the truth, he still needed help landing another client since his most profitable opportunity turned out to be a big ol’ creep. A date with another client’s son. Young, rich, good-looking, a single dad. It didn’t sound that bad.

And so Steve met Tommy. 

At first, Tommy was… good. He was charming, cute, a praiser and a joker but the more Steve got to know the less he liked. After a while the compliments stopped and the commanding requests began. Get me this, pick this up, cook me, blow me, dress me, feed me, drive me, me, me, me.

But if Steve wanted or needed something? Tommy was sooo tired and busy. He hadn’t even made an effort to meet Steve’s friends yet. Plus he was always making Steve feel dumb and unimportant, saying his job was silly, even if Steve made almost as much money as him with fewer hours.

Telling him not to ‘worry his pretty head about it’ when Steve asked for clarifications or wouldn’t talk to him about work because Steve ‘wouldn’t get it’. He talked down on Steve all the time and offered him money to “buy himself something nice” in a degrading manner as if Steve was nothing more than arm candy for him.

The worst part was when he realized Tommy… wasn't funny. At all. All his jokes were based on making fun of other people. And he was the only one who laughed at them. He was no better than a bully. He… kind of sucked.

And Steve would’ve loved to never have to see him again. But the problem was he had fallen in love with Tommy’s daughter, Tarja. Because Tommy might have been a terrible boyfriend but at least he was a good enough father. So the weeks Tommy got Tarja, Steve spent most of his time with her. 

She was just a delight. Cute, smart, and actually funny. She had the most deadpan sarcastic humor a 6-year-old could manage and it cracked him up. She was also super creative and loved drawing, reading, bedtime tales, and coming up with stories of her own.

Her emotional maturity was impressive, better than her father’s actually, and one of Steve’s favorite things about her. He’d never forget the day he went to pick her up from school and she’d been upset. When Steve asked her how he could help she had calmly explained what had happened, how it made her feel, and what she could do about it… over ice cream, obviously. It made him wonder what kind of person her other dad was like because she had clearly not learned how to communicate like that from Tommy.

And the thing is, Steve had always wanted a kid, ever since he was young all he wanted was a family and even if Tommy wasn’t great he just couldn’t make himself leave the connection he felt with Tarja. And he couldn’t just come out to Tommy and say: ‘Hey I wanna break up, but I’d love to keep seeing your kid,’ that would land him at best a punch, at worst in jail.

There was also the fact that, no matter how much he tried to deflect, Tommy’s comments were starting to get to him. Maybe Tommy was as good as he’d get, maybe he was dumb and uninteresting and the only thing he had going for him was his looks, maybe this was his only chance for a family. So he stuck it out. Cherished the times when they were all together.

And then he met Eddie.

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[morganwrites12672]

1991 - Nine Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The first time she met Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 600+

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I plan to make this a series! It will have different parts made up of different years! It will follow and Dean and Reader as they grow up! @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles has been helping me with this project. It started as a small fic with a few parts and they encouraged me to turn into something more. I also would like to make one shots for this series!

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1991 - Nine Years Old

She remembered the first time she had met Dean Winchester vividly.

It had been a rather bland day in September whenever her father walked into her bedroom. She looked up from the lore book he had given her to read. She still thought that all of these stories were just stories. They were interesting to her, that was all.

"You're going to meet Johns boys tonight," Bobby had told her.

That has gotten her attention rather quickly. She knew that John was one of her father's friends from work. Another traveling salesman. The lie was enough to keep her from asking questions at such a young age. She believed everything her father told her.

She had no reason not to. She was too young to understand much. She didn't understand the weird looks her and her father received on the rare occasion that they went into town together. She didn't understand that it was unusual for her to be homeschooled. She didn't understand that her father was one of the towns outcasts, or how strange people thought he was.

The conversation with her father hadn't lasted long. He had excused himself rather quickly to go work on something. She might not know it yet, but the reason John was coming over wasn't good. There was a string of odd deaths in the next town over. The two men would leave all of the kids together while they hunted. Bobby had always hated leaving her alone by herself. And, he didn't want her alone with this hunt being so close to home. He would feel better about everything leaving her there with Dean and Sam.

She spent the rest of the day doing what she usually did; reading. Even at such a young age she read lore books. She did constantly have to ask her father to help her understand a word, or how to pronounce it. She practically had these books memorized though. They had been her bedtime stories.

Finally, that night, there was a knock on the door. She had been setting her light brown teddy bear on the bed whenever she had heard it. By the time she had walked downstairs a man was downstairs conversing with her father. She assumed that this was his friend from work; John. She noticed the two younger boys next to the man. One boy looked to be a few years older than her. The other one looked to be only 7 or 8.

She didn't have to be the first one to speak. Her father and John went outside to discuss the job (that she was being left in the dark about what it truly was). The two boys looked at her curiously before the older one spoke.

"I'm Dean, this is my brother Sammy." The younger boy frowned at the nickname but didn't speak against it. He seemed to be more shy than his older brother. She watched the two boys for a moment before giving them her name.

She was quiet for most of their visit. All three of the children were. Dean and Sam didn't want to accidentally tell her something she shouldn't know about (John had warned them that she didn't know about the Supernatural yet), and she had been nervous. It wasn't often that she got to see other kids her age.

Whenever her father came back inside and informed her that the boys wouldn't just be staying for a few hours, but a few days, she was shocked. And a bit confused. It wasn't rare for her father to leave on a 'business trip' for a couple of days. She'd never had him leave someone else with her. Usually she either stayed alone or with Gladys, the lady who owned the property next to them.

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A/N: Let me know what you guys think about this one!

[cheeseatlantic]

how do you think characters from cod would react to you asking to talk about folklore to them? (Including graves and Alejandro please)

yesyes ofc queen ❤️ xx

ghost

he liked robin hood growing up, so he told you the tale. when you piss him off he tells you about banshees and scares you shitless.

soap

once you ask, he will never stop, he got way too excited. he took scotland forever seriously, he went on for THREE HOURS, until you fell asleep. he didn’t notice and then kept going… until he fell asleep too!! you got the loch ness monster, unicorn and his personal favourite? selkies.

gaz

unfortunately, he creeps you the fuck out with the bogeyman… piss him off? bogeyman. kiss him? bogeyman. ON THE TOILET? BOGEYMAN. the only other folklore he knows is taylor swift’s folklore…

price

well… this peepaw knows everything from the arthurian legends to the black shuck. he was as happy as a dad reading his child a bedtime story, except it was folklore!

graves

graves was basically all for scaring you shitless with myths; just so he could comfort you. #toxicchivalry… but he also did tell you some cool shit about texan folklore, you listened to him for hours. maybe stared at his pretty eyes and wasn’t listening but still!

alejandro

like soap, he was so proud to tell you about everything. wrapped his arms around you, got you all snug before he started with la llorona, el chupacabra and a whole bunch of others!!

rudy

same as alejandro but was more gentle with it in the sense that he’d tell you something what he thought to be scary and then followed up with a “remember, mi amor! it’s fake, don’t be scared.”

könig (unfortunately because he’s austrian and we want the diversity)

könig was sort of happy to tell you and to share his culture with you!! it was sweet, really. he made you some traditional food, and then got you bundled up and comfortable before he started and didn’t stop until you fell into a nice, peaceful sleep.

horangi

horangi didn’t mind telling you, he was patient when it came to answering your questions about korean folklore and told you his favourite tales, even got his mom to tell you some extras which you loved (his mom sent over a huge thing of kimchi afterwards because she thought you started to embrace korean culture)

makarov

makarov, literally sat down with you, wicked grin as he started, scared you and then soothed you, so he’d be like. “Oh yeah, that creature will eat your teeth.” “But don’t worry, i’ll shoot them like I did with Soap if it tries anything, malysh.”

tysm for being my first req!! ilysm babybell MWAHHHH 💗 (pls try to eat/drink something for me or your favourite characters!! xx)

[tenebraewrites]

just like heaven / bill farrah x reader

thank you so much for reading my first lil fic ! this is a follow up that very much lives in my bill x reader universe - it's another one shot, but after this, i plan on fleshing out a full story <3  this one is rather long hehe i got a bit carried away

 also EXPLICIT!!!!!!!! warning for the contents below !!!

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    Sleep has evaded you for hours now - while Bill has drifted silently beside you, something about the motel room denies you peace. Perhaps it’s the mattress, a scientific marvel beneath your back -- it is both too hard and too soft, consisting of lumps that feel like small animals, trapped beneath thread. Or it’s the light that pours through the faded gray curtains that cover the window -- the motel sign proudly beams down, declaring both vacancy and twenty four operating hours. Bill always loathes the notion of continuous service; anything that spits in his face as wholly capitalist makes him angry. 

Laying on your side, the only comfort in a sleepless ocean has been Bill. His breathing is steady, his hands holding you gently around your middle.. Bill’s breath tickles the back of your neck - he always parts your hair so that he can inhale you. He’ll hold you, nuzzling and kissing in a parking lot, in a restaurant booth, or waiting for the gas to pump. You’ve never met anyone who loves the way you smell; certainly not when so often you smell like the scent of 7-11 soap and cigarettes.

You move slowly, feeling the mattress dip and squeak as you adjust so that you can lay face to face with Bill. You knew it was love when you first met him; your heart did a flip, an urgent warning that you were in trouble. But you knew it’d be the only love, when the smallest details about Bill made you sigh happily.

His bangs, cut roughly (Bill lovingly maintains his mullet, but his bangs are a haphazard afterthought) rest against his forehead - the sun always brings out a deluge of freckles across his skin. The sun has been beating down against your skin for days; you’re out in Nevada, hunting ghosts and getting lost in Bill.  He’s adorned his face with a few tattoos - you trace them now over and over in your head, cataloging his ink for when sleep finally comes.

Maybe it’s the heat of your gaze on his skin that stirs Bill from his slumber, or maybe it’s that he’s no longer holding you, that interrupts his rest. Bill’s eyes slowly part, seeking out your needy stare.

“Hey.” Bill’s slowly blinking you into focus, pulling you to his chest as he shakes off the last vestiges of sleep. You know he’s tired from driving; you’d like to protest, tell him to go back to sleep, but he’d never listen.

“Hi.” Your words are slightly muffled as you burrow into his neck, adopting his beloved ritual of nuzzling; you breathe him in, and all is right in the world. 

His hands rub your back, dipping beneath the worn out shirt you’re wearing so he can touch you - his fingers are warm, his calloused fingertips heavenly across your skin.  

“You can’t sleep.” Bill says, his voice quiet and neutral - it’s neither an accusation of annoyance, nor is it a question.

You nod into his shoulder, slotting one of your legs between his. There isn’t a good reason why you can’t sleep and there never has been. It’s a terrible dichotomy you exist in; you always long for sleep, but your body violently revolts against the notion at appropriate hours for rest. Your mother used to say you were lazy, then you’re just a teenager, then simply you’re hell-bent on always making things harder for yourself. Unfortunately, you’ve developed a sneaking suspicion she was correct with the last assertion. You’re no longer a teenager, and lazy -- Bill says it's a mindset meant to shame the working class for not bleeding themselves dry. Only your self-destructive tendencies remain. 

“You could read me a bedtime story.” You pull back, resting your head beside his on the pillow. He matches your smile with an equally toothy grin - you love when his face lights up and it’s only for you. 

Bill’s still stroking your back, his movements languid; but his expression has shifted. He’s wide awake now, and a tell tale smile has begun to spread across his features. It’s a sly and quiet expression you know well. The hands beneath your shirt gently roll you onto your back, as he moves to hover above you. His face is pressed against yours, his nose gently kissing the tip of yours; you’re both still for a moment, enjoying the moment.

“Maybe.” 

He kisses you, his lips soft and warm against yours. Your kisses are sweet and slow, as your arms wind across his back. Bill’s pressed against you, holding your bottom lip hostage until he earns a muted whimper. His hands are roaming beneath your shirt, inching the fabric up bit by bit, until common sense demands you discard it altogether. 

The shirt slips above your head, making every inch of your skin known to him, you’re laid utterly bare. Bill always gazes at you like it’s his first time seeing you naked; he pauses, his face marked with awe. A blush across your skin always follows, bringing him back to you - he kisses you again, before dipping his head. 

He takes your left nipple into his mouth, gently pulling and twisting it with his lips; each of these ministrations sending a jolt down your body. Bill knows how sensitive your breasts are, and so he takes great care to lavish each breast with attention. He licks your right nipple twice, before taking it between his lips; you moan contentedly, teasing his hair with your fingers. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, and though you’d never want to, it’d be impossible to deny how much you needed him.

“Bill.” Already you’re reduced to a status where his name is your only anchor, your only refuge. The fingers that were lightly tugging his hair, are now trying to push him away; to make him go to where you need him the most. But Bill adores teasing you, pushing and pulling you to the brink until you finally explode. He hums quietly, his mouth continuing to alternate between your breasts. 

You huff, tugging his hair. “You’re supposed to be getting me to sleep.”

In lieu of treating you to a verbal reply or rebuff, Bill simply lifts his head - his eyes are wide, calm. He pushes himself forward, giving you a quick kiss. Your hands shift to hold him once more, but he’s gone before you’ve finished moving - his lips cover the expanse of your stomach, your hips, the soft skin of your thighs. The day had been so long that you’d slipped into bed without bothering to put on underwear; you’re thankful now that Bill won’t have a slip of fabric to tease you with. 

Bill’s fingers part your folds gently, brushing gently across your clit to test your sensitivity - your hips raise involuntarily, eagerly anticipating the replacement of his tongue. But Bill pauses as he always does, raising his eyes to meet yours. A hot flash covers your skin when he looks up at you - you’ve never been able to look at anyone eating you out before. His eyes are so blue, so wonderfully aflame. 

“Yes?” Bill’s hands are stagnant, awaiting your reply.

“Yes. Please.” A year ago you wouldn’t have recognized the needy whine of your own voice; no one has ever made you need this so bad.

Bill doesn’t offer a verbal reply - he doesn’t need to. His tongue swipes against your clit, once, twice; he’s teasing you. Gripping your hips, Bill’s grounding you to the bed; you can plead, push, pull his hair all you like. You’re bent to the mercy of his pace, which is always grueling. 

He’s kissing every inch of you, alternating between artfully using his lips against where you’re most sensitive, and sweetly kissing your thighs. With your head propped up on the pillow, you are afforded a perfect view - his lips are wet, and you’re leaving a mess across the sheets. Attentively, Bill looks at you, as he suckles and laps at your clit - his gaze is as potent as anything he can do with his mouth. 

“Bill, Bill, Bill.” You’re sweating, your legs now propped up against his shoulders; toes beginning to curl, hips rotating in gentle circles, chasing your high. Bill has never demanded you moan his name or call him anything in particular; he gets off on whatever pleases you. But you know whimpering his name sends a flush down his neck, and if you were positioned differently, you’d see a rough outline in his boxers. 

His hands leave your hips to trail across your stomach, to envelope your skin in his touch. All of you desire Bill; he’d never accept such a thing, but every fiber of your being is his. There is never the slightest moment of melancholy spared for past lovers - no one could have reduced you to this. Bill’s pace has increased, no longer playful and teasing. His mouth never leaves you, and he works you with fervor. Bill had been almost shy the first time you’d had sex; you’d remarked on his racing heartbeat until he’d eaten you out, and you’d temporarily forgotten how to speak.

Your hips are moving against his mouth, as your hand anchors his mouth to your core; you’re panting, breaths coming in fast and hard. The pleasure is all encompassing, and you’ve begun to lose focus of anything that isn’t Bill and your building orgasm. Bill’s tongue has resumed its strokes against your clit, but he’s increased his pace; Bill always knows when you’re close. 

“Bill.” It’s a quiet declaration, squeaked out before you’re lost to the sensation. You close your eyes when you come, pleasure overtaking every inch of your body; it is a white hot flame, making you forget everything - only Bill and his mouth, unrelenting in its pace, remain. Your toes are locked in a tight curl as your hips grind against him, prolonging the electric pleasure that’s arched your back and made you dig your nails into his scalp. The motel and its thin walls have faded away- you’re vaguely aware of your strangled cry, and the rough way that you’re pulling his hair -- his teasing has made your orgasm last a lifetime. 

Only when you’re so overspent and sensitive touch becomes unbearable, do you open your eyes - squirming, you wiggle beneath Bill’s hold. His eyes meet your for a second, and there’s something wonderfully devilish and indignant in his gaze; he’s held you like this before, bringing you to the brink so many times you’ve forgotten your own name. 

When you find your voice, it is high pitched and breathless. But your request is pure, and your ardent intention breaks through the squeaky cadence. “Come here.” 

It’s a simple demand, and Bill is never one to deny you. Bill releases your hips, and pulls back, kissing your thighs gently. His kisses aren’t wanton, they’re sweet - tender expressions of love. You reach your arms out to him lazily, lacking the energy to pull him to you.

Bill presses a final kiss to your pelvic bone, before climbing back onto the bed - he’s gentle as he slides onto the mattress beside you, pulling you across his chest. You curl into his side, eager for the sensation of your skin against his. He kisses you sweetly, holding your chin like an anchor. You kiss him back eagerly, satisfied but never depleted of desire for him in any way. When a need for air and exhaustion finds you both, you pull back and rest your head against his chest. Sliding your leg across his, you’re aware of how hard he is. But Bill’s eyes are closed, a look of content across his face - he looks like he’s seconds away from falling asleep. 

He knows you’re studying him, and answers your gaze with a wry smile, his eyes still closed. “I love you.” 

You pause, the instinct to return the phrase disrupted by a lingering question. Your hand trails down his stomach, pausing to touch each tattoo, before resting at the base of his stomach. 

“I love you too, Bill.” 

One eye opens, squinting at you. Bill’s chest is rising at an accelerated pace, his peace once more disrupted. 

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep.” He begins, opening both eyes now. His gaze alternates between your hand, tenderly stroking his skin, and your eyes. 

“Sleep can wait.” 

[potionsprefect]

Achievements

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 957

Summary: Luke and Lily are eager to learn about their parents

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

“Mom says we’re not allowed in this room.” Luke said as Lily searched for the key.

“And since when did you listen to what Mom says?” Lily looked up from the cabinet.

“She said it was an important room! We shouldn’t go in there unless they said we could!”

“Oh lighten up Luke, since when did you become a goody two shoes?” Lily rolled her eyes.

“I’m not!” Luke huffed.

“Then help me search for the key!”

Luke rolled his eyes before he helped his sister. Both he and Lily had been eager to learn about their parents achievements since they were old enough to know what they did for a living. There was a room in their home dedicated to books, certificates and trophies. They often heard their parents talk about how they were running out of room and might have to build another shelf.

“Found it!” Lily said as she held up a key.

“What if Mom and Dad find out? You’ve made a mess of the drawer!” Luke said.

Lily looked at the drawer. He was right. The drawer was very messy but she just shrugged and grabbed Luke’s hand before dragging him to the room.

“Keep a look out.” Lily said as she unlocked the door but Luke didn’t need to look for long as Lily had unlocked the door.

“Why are you so interested in this room anyway?” Luke asked.

“Because I don’t get why we’ve not been allowed to look in here. I’m just intrigued.” Lily shrugged.

As she opened the door, her eyes widened. There was far more in here than she realised. Books and certificates adorned the walls but there was also pictures and pieces of paper on the desks.

“Wow.” Luke said.

“Wow indeed. What are you both doing in here?” A voice from behind them said.

Luke and Lily jumped and turned around. Victoria was stood behind them, arms folded and with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi Mom!” Lily said in an attempt to act like nothing had happened.

“I’ll ask my question again. What are you both doing in here?” Victoria came in and shut the door.

“We wanted to see what was so important that we’ve never been allowed in here.” Lily replied.

“We? I was forced to help you out!” Luke crossed his arms.

“You know you have to ask if you want to come in here.” Victoria said.

“But why?” Lily asked.

“Your Dad and I did not want things to get damaged or broken in here. And from remembering what you both were like when you were toddlers, that very well could’ve been the case.” Victoria said.

“We just wanted to know what was in here.” Luke said.

“Would you like me to show you?”

The twins nodded. For the next hour, Victoria showed them all the books that had been written by her and Ethan over the years. Lily tried to decipher the words but couldn’t understand any of them.

“And this here.” Victoria pulled out a paper. “Was my first research paper. I used to read these to you as an alternative to a bedtime story. You fell asleep right away.” She laughed.

“Did Dad do the same?” Luke asked.

“Your Dad started the trend. We found it a great way to get some extra sleep for us.”

“You can say that again.” A voice said.

Ethan was stood by the door, an amused look on his face.

“The twins were eager to see what was in this room.” Victoria laughed.

“It was always off bounds for a reason.”

“But it doesn’t have to be anymore right?” Luke asked.

“I guess not.” Ethan said.

“What’s this Dad?” Lily pointed to a trophy.

Victoria and Ethan shared a look. They couldn’t tell them yet. They weren’t old enough and they wouldn’t quite understand the significance. It was a trophy to celebrate the achievement of the cure during the Senator attack, the most prized possession out of everything in that room.

“It’s a special award. Probably the most special one in this room.” Ethan said.

“What was it given for?” Luke asked.

“You’re a bit too young to understand for now. But one day, we will tell you about it.” Victoria said.

“Why can’t we know about it?” Lily said.

“You can and you will. But not right now. I promise one day. I need to go and start dinner.” Victoria said as she left the room. Ethan knew how she was feeling.

“Sit down a second for me will you please.” Ethan instructed the twins to sit down on the chairs in the room.

“Is everything ok Dad?” Luke asked.

Ethan knelt down in front of the twins, a stern but compassionate look on his face.

“I know you’re both interested to learn about our jobs. This award was given after something terrible happened. For now, you’re too young to understand what happened. So I want you to make me a promise. I want you to not go searching for what this award means until you are old enough to remember. We want to be able to tell you ourselves and we don’t want you to find out what happened on the internet. Do you understand?” Ethan said.

Luke and Lily could grasp the severity of what their Dad was telling them and nodded. He pulled them in for a hug to which they reciprocated.

“Shall we go find Mom?” Ethan said.

The twins nodded and they ran out of the room. It was great that they were taking an interest but there were some things that were best kept from them for now.

One day they would find out. And they would learn why it was the greatest achievement of all.

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75 @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[hellfiresky]

Blast me like the droids!

Summary: You spent the afternoon in Fox’s quarters, attending a mind-numbing online meeting with the Galactic Unity Council whilst he grumbles over incomplete reports on his bed.

Pairing: Fox x GN!Reader (Platonic)

No warnings. And yes this fic was the result of an actual two and a half hour meeting with some government officials that I had to endure.

Pictures: Star Wars Outlaw (taken using camera mode by me) and Fox also by me.

One shot taglist: @orangez3st

“Just fucking blast me like the droids!” You ripped the headphones off and tossed them onto the desk, burying your head in your hands as a muffled groan escaped you.

Fox, laid on his stomach on the sofa across the room, barely looked up from his datapad. “You know, that can be arranged,” he deadpanned. You peeked through your fingers at the portable terminal on the desk. The online meeting - the two-hour-and-counting monstrosity - was still going. The head of the Galactic Unity Council continued droning on, repeating the same damn points about intersystem trade tariffs for the Outer Rim for the third time.

“I’m going to die here,” you let your head thunk down on the desk. “Right here. In this all white and grey hellhole. And you’re going to have to explain it to the others.”

“What? That I let you die of boredom?” Fox murmured, glued to his goddamn screen.

“That you let me suffer while you sat there scrolling HoloTube or whatever,” you bit back without lifting your head.

“I’m literally reading reports,” Fox waved his datapad.

“‘Reading reports’—” you glared at him. “—is that what they’re calling endless refreshes of nutshotscompilations on Coruddit now?”

“Bold of you to assume I have time for that.” He finally sat properly on that firm, supposedly ergonomic, sofa. Legs propped up on the sad excuse of a caf table that he probably got for free from the backroom of the Republic Military Base. “I save those for my break.”

“You’re on a break. I’m stuck here listening to a geriatric bureaucrat monologue about tariffs like it’s a bedtime story.” You waved your hands wildly at the screen, where the head of the Council was still rambling on. “He’s said the word ‘sustainable’ six times in one sentence. I’m going to explode.”

Fox finally put down his datapad and walked over your direction. He pressed his hands on the back of the chair and leaned down on your side to have a good look at the screen. You could see the corner of his upper lip lifted in disdain. “Riveting.”

If someone had been sitting across from the two of you, they’d have said you made the exact same facial expression. It was uncanny, honestly. You and Fox had spent enough time together that half the time, words weren’t even necessary. The best thing about your friendship was the telepathic understanding, especially when you went out to bars together. A quick side eye at a noisy table, and you’d both know exactly what the other was thinking. The arch of his brow, your pursed lips - it was like you shared a neural link. Or a single braincell.

It hadn’t always been that way. When you first started your new position at the Galactic Unity Council - which office was located dangerously close to the Senate Building - you hadn’t known him at all. Your job frequently brought you into proximity with Senate officials, which meant your route often overlapped with the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard. Fox was hard to miss, always accompanied by at least two fellow red-and-white-armoured troopers. At first, you just exchanged polite nods, the way you would with any stern law enforcement patrolling the district. But that changed after one particularly grueling day.

Your colleagues had invited you for after work drinks to the The Nebula Exchange - a bar that was mostly frequented by senators, diplomats, and their aides. The thought of talking about work over a glass of Ecumenopolitan made you want to scream. So instead, you opted for a small pub near the Federal hovertrain station, Feds Tap. The place screamed corrie haunt the moment you stepped inside. It was filled to the brim with clones wearing Coruscant Guard armour. And sitting quietly at the very far end of the bar, was Fox. You noticed how the warm ambient light caught on the silver streaks peppering his otherwise black hair. He was sitting alone, glued to his datapad, nursing a glass of stout. Every other seat in the place was full, the crowd loudly cheering for the Galactic Cup match on the holoscreen. Coruscant versus Corellia.

There was no other choice. You made your way to the far end, and sat across the stern-looking clone commander. “Mind if I join you?” you pointed a thumb over your shoulder. “Everywhere else looks like a disaster waiting to happen.”

He took a moment to size you up before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”

That was the beginning.

It turned out Fox had a very dry sense of humour that made him strangely likeable, and you - completely burnt out and fed up with the same old political nonsense - had just enough self-loathing jokes to make him laugh. You bonded over shared bitterness and a mutual understanding of bureaucracy’s absurdity. From there, it became a thing. Whenever work got too much, you’d find yourself at Feds Tap, and more often than not, so would Fox.

Now, standing behind you in his annoyingly minimalist quarters, Fox let out a long-suffering sigh. “You could just leave the meeting, you know. Pretend there’s a ‘connection issue.’”

“And lose my job?” you mumbled. “Unlike you, I can’t just disappear into the underworld when someone irritates me.”

“You overestimate how much of an escape that is,” he bent closer to scrutinise the council head’s face. “Maker, he looks like a walking tax evasion.”

You barked a laugh, quickly muffling it with your hand whilst anxiously checking the little mute icon on your terminal screen. Still on. Thank the stars. “Don’t make me laugh,” you whispered harshly.

“I make no promises.” He blew raspberries, and flopped on the bed. The next thing you knew, he kicked off his boots, one hit the floor loudly, the other narrowly missing the caf table. You looked over your shoulder to see him picking up his datapad again, holding it above his head, and started reading the reports aloud. “Fucking incomplete again,” his voice was getting louder with each passing sentence. “Maker, it’s like nobody down there knows how to count past ten. Oh, look! Another typo. Shocker. Are these even real words?!”

With hands pressed tightly over your headphones, you tried your best to ignore him as the head of the Galactic Unity Council droned on. 

“Did you know,” Fox suddenly began, “that in the lower levels, the average air duct has at least three different species of fungus growing in it? And one of them is probably sentient?”

“What the fuck?” You mouthed at him.

He grinned. “Or that some of the public fountains down there are basically just open sewers made out of painted brass? They’ve got the same water source as the trash compactors. Same water source, vod.”

“Ssh! I’m in a meeting. But… yikes.” You shuddered involuntarily. Meanwhile, Fox continued scrolling through his datapad. “Just thought you should know. Next time you’re feeling adventurous and decide to go down there to ‘explore', don’t drink the water. Or touch anything.”

You rolled your eyes, trying desperately to focus on the endless speech happening on your screen. Fox’s groaning, cursing, muttering, and general Fox-ness weren’t helping. He huffed loudly, and dropped the datapad onto his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said. “Sitting through this day in, day out. Bureaucracy is worse than chasing assassins. At least assassins know when to shut up. Also you can shoot them.”

You couldn’t help it. You let out a full belly laugh. Again.

“Mute still on?” he asked.

“Thankfully,” you swiped the screen to triple-check your settings.

“Good.” He crossed his arms behind his head. “Because this is comedy gold. You, suffering through this. Me, suffering through you suffering through this.”

“Fuck you!”

“Ah, shush! Alright. Here’s the deal. You survive this meeting, and I’ll—” he paused, absentmindedly tapping the screen of his datapad over and over again. “I’ll buy you dinner. From that place.”

Your head snapped up. “The Corellian diner with the red spotchka pasta?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“The one that’s way out in—”

“Yes.”

“With the selection of cocktails that costs more than your monthly BAS?”

Fox smirked. “If you survive the meeting.”

You slammed your headphones back on. “Deal.”

The meeting dragged on for another twenty minutes before it finally, mercifully ended. You yanked the headphones off and threw yourself beside Fox. “I’m never doing this again. Ever. I’m quitting. Joining a podracing crew or something.”

“Hmm.” A noncommittal hum came out of him, still scrolling the reports in his datapad. “The fuck are you reading?” you tilted your head to have a good look at his screen. “Read this.” Fox shoved his datapad to your hands. He rubbed his eyes and groaned to himself. 

You squinted at the tiny text on his screen. “Wait… what?”

“Yep. Senatorial apartment district. Apparently, some senator’s pet took a dive out of a penthouse window, landed on a speeder, and caused a fourteen-speeder pileup. And guess who got to clean it up? Us.”

You blinked. “A pet? What kind of pet?”

“A rancor.”

You bolted upright. “A rancor?!”

“Baby rancor,” he clarified. “Apparently it was ‘domesticated.’ Except it wasn’t. Took out the building’s railing and the senator’s neighbour’s balcony on its way down. Speeder owners are filing lawsuits, and the senator’s claiming the rancor was pushed.” You gawked at him, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what you were hearing. “Are these people fucking nuts crazy or what?”

“Yes.” He took his datapad back. “This is my life. Handling the fallout from their complete inability to function in society.”

Fox considered you one of his closest friends. No, he had never said that to you and probably never will. But it showed in the way he called your comlink on his worst days, not to say much of anything at first, but just to hear a familiar voice before launching into one of his long-winded rants about work. He enjoyed the silence, too. The way you could just sit together, doing your own thing. It was rare to find someone who didn’t feel the need to tiptoe around him because of his rank. 

There were too many things about his work that he couldn’t share with his brothers, not because he didn’t trust them, but because he didn’t want to burden them. A lot of it came down to the Chancellor. Fox despised reporting to Palpatine. The man was a nightmare, micromanaging when it suited him, and completely absent when it didn’t. “Work” wasn’t even the right word for it. It was more like one-handed servitude: Do as I say. Don’t ask questions. Just obey. And he obeyed. Not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. The Chancellor had a way of weaponising disobedience against the clones, making sure everyone knew that failure - no matter how small - was unacceptable. Fox often found himself covering for his men. If anyone had to suffer Palpatine’s wrath, it would be him, not them. That was why, on the nights when the weight became unbearable, your comlink would ring. Sometimes it was for drinks, sometimes for midnight snacks, whatever it took to distract himself from the endless demands and frustrations of his job.

“I can’t tell them this stuff,” he said once as he was eating a glowing popsicle he found deep in your freezer. He’d shown up unannounced, as usual, with a six-pack of cheap beer and a bag of crisps. “It wouldn’t help. They’ve got enough to worry about. It’d just make things worse.”

“It’s like... I can’t ever let my guard down with them, you know? They need to see me as the guy who’s got it together, who can handle it. But sometimes, I just—” He broke off, dismissing the thought. You didn’t push him further. He always said just enough, and that was fine. He knew you wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t try to fix it, and wouldn’t share it with anyone else. That was why he kept coming back. You let him talk about anything that came to mind. Anything.

“Dude,” you playfully kicked Fox’s shin from where you were sprawled like a starfish on his bed. “Hmm.” He didn’t even look up, still scrolling through what you assumed were more mind-numbing reports.

“You said we were going to get dinner at that Corellian place.”

“It’s 1630 hours,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, and if you factor in getting ready and the commute, we’d be there by 1800, approximately. Perfect timing for an early dinner.”

Fox breathed and looked at you with that annoyingly emotionless face of his. “Why do you talk like that? ‘Approximately’? You sound like Cody.”

“Which one is Cody again? But no, shut up, I’m serious,” you glared at him. “I’m hungry. And I know you’re in that weird new regiment where you eat all your meals at exactly the same time every day. Doesn’t this fall in your eating window or whatever?”

“Not weird regiment. It’s called intermittent fasting. It’s standard for maintaining discipline.”

“You literally just made my point.”

Fox finally turned off his datapad and put it inside the drawer of his bedside table. “Fine,” he stood up, stretching his arms above his head. You could hear the sound of his joints cracking. “But if we go now, you’re paying for the taxi. You know it’s rush hour.”

“Why don’t we take your GAR speeder?” you chirped, hopping off the bed and pulling on your shoes. 

“Absolutely not,” he immediately replied as he put on his codpiece and attached the kama to its slot, letting the fabric fall on his thighs. “That speeder is for official use only, not joyrides to Corellian restaurants.”

“Oh, come on. Aren’t you the Marshal Commander? You can bend the rules just a little, right? Tell them it’s… a personal recon mission to assess operational efficiency in non-standard civilian transportation zones. Or, uh, critical route evaluation for high-priority personnel.” You blurted out random things Fox had said to you before. A bunch of military jargon that sounded important but you had no idea what it all means.

“What are you even talking about? None of those words are in the reg manual,” he snatched a small pillow from his bed and lobbed it in your direction. The pillow smacked you on the shoulder. “Hey!” You yelped. He didn’t stop there, though. Nope. He completely broke his composure, and a laugh bubbled out of him as he walked over to whack your arm with the back of his hand. “I should put you in jail just for how bad that was.”

“Don’t you dare!” You grabbed the pillow and hurled it back. Too bad, the pillow sailed past him.

He snickered as he grabbed his vambraces and started fastening them to his lower arms. “Maker, you’re ridiculous.”

“Well, I learn from the best,” you pointed at him before you started rummaging through his desk drawers, digging past datapads, instant caf sachets, spare commlinks, and neatly organised flimsi files. Fox was unbothered. He ignored you entirely, focusing on getting his freshly washed and dried chestplate from the dresser. “If I get written up because of you, I’m putting you on every watchlist in the sector.”

“Too late!” you called out triumphantly, holding up the speeder key with a wide grin. The tiny red fox keychain attached to it jiggled as you shook it in the air. He turned just in time to see you bolt towards the door, “You’ve got five seconds to hand that over before I tackle you,” he warned.

“Oh my gosh, cop brutality,” You gasped dramatically.

“Ugh, whatever,” he snatched the key from your hand. “You’ll buy dessert,”

“That means I get to sit in the front seat,” you countered with a grin.

“That’s against the law,” he flicked your ear with his fingers.

“Hey!” you yelped, and tiptoed to tug on his hair. “You always let me anyway,” you added.

“Do I?” he asked as he elbowed you lightly.

“Fox, I swear to the Force—”

“Relax, I’m kidding.” His laugh echoed down the empty hall. Fox suddenly jogged ahead, and you ran to catch up.

[vilevenom]

Howdy, Anon! An idea for this prompt smacked me right in the face as soon as I read it. Aaaand I have a feeling it's, uh, not as fluffy as you may have been hoping. Still a JD & Bruce fic, buuuut less of an "Oh no! John Dory had a bad date! lol" and more of a "Oh no. John Dory had a bad date." Also, this is set pre-brozone breakup. Let's not mention the sheer amount of times I wrote "Bruce" instead of "Spruce" and had to go back and fix it I hope you enjoy!

John Dory crept into the pod, knowing full well he was much, much later than he had told his grandmother he would be. And after the night he'd had there was no way he wanted to deal with a confrontation with her. She had been upset enough with him when he had proposed the "Win a Date with BroZone" contest in the first place, especially without a sponsor to cover it. He didn't need to provide her with extra ammo over the whole thing by how late he'd gotten home.

He made sure the door shut as quietly as it could, then tip toed through the pod, doing his best to avoid toys and instruments scattered across the floor in the dark. He let out a near inaudible sigh of relief as he made it to the door of his bedroom, reaching for the knob, fully believing he had made it scot-free.

"About time you got home."

"Cupcakes!" John hissed, nearly jumping out of his skin at the voice suddenly to his right. He placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart, shooting a glare at Spruce who was stood in the darkened hallway, arms crossed over his chest, and a scowl on his face.

"Bitty B cried when you weren't home to tuck him in."

John rolled his eyes, shoving his bedroom door open. "It was one bedtime story. I'm sure he'll be fine," John grumbled, quickly ducking into his room and away from Spruce.

Spruce followed John Dory like a shadow, quickly shutting the bedroom door behind him in the hopes of keeping the rest of their brothers asleep. "Oh, no. You do not get to pretend like you weren't out until the middle of the night, making us worry. And you better believe that Grandma is going to have words with you in the morning. You've got to stop putting all of the band crap before your family!" Spruce growled, doing his best to keep his voice quiet, while also conveying to John Dory just how upset he was. Not only did he have to deal with a crying Branch, but Floyd had also been upset by John missing their bedtime routine, and Clay had just been angry.

"Come on, Spruce. Can't you lecture me in the morning? It's late," John grumbled, tugging his goggles off and tossing them aside, not bothering to turn the bedroom light on.

"No! You're going to listen to me, John Dory! This is getting ridiculous. First you start sequestering yourself in your room for hours on end to write, then you're forcing us to practice every minute we're not scheduled for a press conference or photo shoot, now you're out partying it up late into the night, making our brothers upset! It has to stop," Spruce snapped, flipping on the bedroom light as he spoke. He scowled when John quickly turned his back to him, his fur bristling as he stormed across the room. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," he snarled, grabbing John's shoulders to turn him around.

Spruce fully expected John to glare at him and give him some snotty remark about being manhandled. He was not expecting to find a bruise forming over his brother's cheek, and crusted blood covering a split in his lip. Spruce gaped while John looked at the floor, unshed tears brimming in his eyes.

"What happened?" Spruce asked, his tone distinctly softer as he directed John to sit on the edge of his bed.

John took in a deep breath, obviously trying to keep himself from sobbing, but it did nothing to stop the tears that slowly began to trail down over his cheeks. "The date went…badly."

"This looks like it went worse than 'badly', JD," Spruce murmured, sitting next to his brother and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Talk to me, bro. What happened?"

John sniffed loudly, quickly wiping this nose with the back of his hand. "You're going to say 'I told you so', and I really don't need that tonight, Spruce."

"I won't, I promise," Spruce said quickly, shaking his head. He had a feeling he knew exactly what John was referring to. After John had argued with Rosiepuff over the date contest, he'd gone to Spruce with the proposal, as he was the designated heart throb and had previous experience with fake dates with fans. Spruce had immediately refuted the idea, citing the debacle when 'Trolls Magazine' had held a similar contest, and the awkward ice cream date he'd gone on with one of their fans and a photographer. John was proposing they run the contest themselves, without someone to vet the entries, to boost popularity before their next tour. Spruce had argued that a date without a chaperone, even with John being seventeen, was a terrible idea. John thought he would be able to handle it. After all, how crazy could their fans be?

John took another deep breath, coughing quietly as he tried to choke back a sob. "You really promise?"

"I absolutely promise."

John blinked a couple of times, before finally letting out a low whine, burying his face in his hands. Spruce rubbed his back in comforting circles as his older brothers shoulders shook. After a moment he finally sat back up, gasping quietly for air. "I…It started off fine," he said quietly, gaze far away, "She looked older than I thought she'd be. Her contest entry said nineteen, but I think she was older. She brought me flowers, which I thought was weird, but sweet. We went for dinner. I took photos with a few fans who asked while we were out. She got mad. She said I should only be paying attention to her and telling the others to go away, because she won my time. I told her I couldn't just ignore our fans, that'd be rude. She was upset, but let it go. She seemed to get more agitated as the night went on, though. Finally, when I was walking her home- or, at least, what I think was her home…She pinned me up against the tree and kissed me. She was rough, and it hurt. She bit me when I tried to pull away. When I did finally manage to get her off of me, she hit me. I ran for it, and she chased me. I only got home so late because I wanted to make sure she wasn't following me anymore."

"John," Spruce breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. To think that one of their fans would do such a thing was disturbing, to say the least.

"I should've listened to you and Grandma," John whimpered, turning a tearful gaze onto Spruce, "I never should've put together this stupid contest. I never should've gone on that date without someone with me."

"Hey," Spruce murmured, "What happened wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" John scoffed, wiping at his eyes angrily, "I didn't listen to you or Grandma, I went out by myself to meet someone I didn't know, and then had to run around the tree for hours so she wouldn't follow me home! I think that qualifies it as being my fault." He let out a weak sob, covering his face again. "I was scared." The admittance was quiet, and Spruce likely only heard it because he was so close to John.

Spruce tugged John Dory bodily into a hug, his older brother practically falling into his lap. "It wasn't your fault. I should've gone with you, regardless of how I felt. I could've helped to keep you safe." John clutched at the back of Spruce's sleep shirt, the damn of his tears breaking as he wept quietly into Spruce's shoulder. "You're going to be okay, JD. It's going to be okay."

[littlehypnone]

Of Sunlight

WC: 3k

Relationship: Little Aeon and Caregiver Swiss (also Little Rain, CG Mountain and CG Aether)

Tags: Cuddles, Play Date, Fluff, Food, Slice of Life

Day in the life of little Aeon and caregiver Swiss

Notes: Commissioned by @everybodyshusband <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Aeon wakes up slowly; his senses tuning into his surroundings one by one. He wiggles in his bed and curls up more tightly around his favorite plushie—a little bat, just like him. He’s too sleepy to realize that he’s still regressed and where he is just yet, though; he chuffs and nuzzles his cheek into the warmth under him.

It’s another hour before Aeon’s eyes finally open. He yawns and stretches and rubs his eyes and feels something rumbling under his ear and tightening around him. The little ghoul feels silly when he realizes it’s Swiss! He remembers now that yesterday ended with a bedtime story and cuddles in the multi ghoul’s bed. He chirps happily as he cuddles closer to him.

“Good morning, buggy,” the vibration of Swiss’ gravely morning voice coming from his chest makes Aeon feel all warm and cozy—safe.

“Mmm, hi Swissy,” Aeon purrs. “‘S n–nice.”

“It is,” the other confirms, not pointing out that the quintessence ghoul is still little. Why would he? It’s not an issue in the slightest; he just wants his bug safe and happy. “I like having my cuddly buggy with me.”

Aeon giggles at the name, “An’ I l–like havin’ my warm Swissy wiv me.”

It takes another while for them to roll out of bed and start getting ready for the day. Swiss helps Aeon pick an outfit to match the weather, wash their face, brush their hair and soon enough they’re on their way down to the kitchen; their hands clasped together.

“What do you want for breakfast today?” Swiss asks as he is already rummaging through the cabinets. They’re always full of absolutely everything and even though the pack tried a system of each having an assigned shelf for their favorite food and snacks, it all blurred soon enough and now it’s just…chaos.

“Hmmm…” Aeon hums, thinking, “I fink the–the rice f–flakes.”

“With raisins and all?”

“Yes, please!”

“You’re such a polite little ghoul, buggy,” Swiss smiles at him and the quintessence ghoul blushes pale lilac. He loves when Swiss is all nice to him like that, it makes him feel so loved. “I’m on it.”

Aeon focuses on playing with his bat plushie by the table as the multi ghoul works on their breakfast. He can see Swiss stirring the pot with the slowly warming up milk, preparing the rice flakes and the raisins and setting up mugs for their drinks, coffee and hot chocolate.

In no time at all it’s all ready and Aeon claps excitedly when Swiss sets everything up in front of him. “You m–made a face!”

“That I did.” The multi ghoul smiles proudly as Aeon smiles at the raisins laid out on top of the milk in the shape of a crooked smiley face. “Enjoy it, buggy.”

Both of them eat their breakfast rather quickly and soon enough Aeon is slurping up the last bit of his hot chocolate. He looks up at Swiss and snorts out a laugh when he sees foam from his coffee sitting on his mustache. “Swissy! Your f–face!”

“Huh?” the multi ghoul pretends to be completely clueless. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Your m…m–m–mustache is white,” they keep on giggling and pointing at him despite struggling a little with the longer word. Swiss dramatically acts out having a revelation and finally wipes the foam off.

“Better?”

“Bet–ter,” Aeon confirms. The multi ghoul sends him a toothy grin and stands up to gather up the dishes. “Swissy, c–can we visit Aeth?”

“‘Course we can!” the multi ghoul assures, but after a moment he realizes there might be a hidden question in there. “Are you alright, though, buggy? Why do you want to visit him?”

“‘M okay, not h–hurt,” Aeon giggles at how Swiss’ brows furrowed in worry right away, “miss Aeth, ‘s all.”

“Okay, okay, you silly little creature.” The multi ghoul shakes his head with a smile. “Let’s go and from there we can go to visit Mounty in the greenhouse, too. I heard there’s a little lady in there with him today, maybe you two could play for a while?”

“Rainy?” Aeon gasps, already excited at the prospect of playing with his best friend.

“Yup! I’ll message Mounty and ask what their plans are, okay?”

The quintessence ghoul nods eagerly. Swiss goes back into the kitchen to dispose of the dirty dishes and grab his phone that he left on the counter. Aeon can see him typing up a quick message before he shoves it into his pocket and returns to the small ghoul.

“Do you want a ride?” Swiss winks with a grin as he points at his back with a thumb.

Aeon could never say no to a piggy back ride and so he smiles widely himself and nods. “Yes, p–please!”

“Alright, then, buggy, hop on,” the multi ghoul chuckles and crouches down to allow Aeon to climb on. He doesn’t get smaller when regressed, but he’s a slight ghoul anyway. He obliges and once he’s glued himself to Swiss’ back he starts purring immediately. “Ready? Off to see Aeth we go!”

The  infirmary is quite literally on the other side of the Abbey, so getting there takes them a small eternity, but Aeon couldn’t be happier about such a journey on Swiss’ back. He doesn’t mind it either; an adorable purring little backpack is a great companion.

“Do you want to surprise him, buggy?” Swiss asks once they finally get there, still outside the door.

“Yes!” the little ghoul cheers and scrambles to get off of the multi ghoul’s back. “Wanna su’pise Aeth!”

“Alright, let me check if I can see him,” Swiss giggles, cracking the door open just enough to take a look inside the main room of the infirmary. Aether is there with his back turned to the door and he seems to be taking inventory; rummaging through shelves and taking down notes. “Okay, buggy, if you sneak in quietly he won’t see you. You can go up and hug him, how’s that?”

Aeon nods with a wide grin. Swiss opens the door some more and lets him in.

He watches from a distance as the little ghoul does his best to creep up on Aether; he’s a little clumsy and the older quintessence ghoul most likely already heard him or felt his energy, but he’s nothing if not a good actor.

“Oh, hello there!” Aether laughs as Aeon gets to him and glues himself to his back, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “Didn’t see ya there, kid.”

“W–we came to visit ‘cause I m–missed you,” Aeon confesses, nuzzling their face against Aether’s shoulder.

“That’s nice of you, I’m always happy to see you,” he chuckles, turning around in Aeon’s arms to bring him close to his chest in a bear hug. “Who’s with you, kiddo?”

“Swissy!” The aforementioned comes in through the door with his signature grin plastered on his face. The older quintessence ghoul rolls his eyes at him with a smile on his own.

“Hi, spark,” Aether greets him and earns himself a peck on the cheek. “What have you two demons been up to today?”

“Nothing much yet,” Swiss shrugs. “Buggy was very sleepy, wasn’t he?”

“Yeahhh…” Aeon agrees. He still didn’t let go of Aether, but the other doesn’t seem to mind. “Bu’ we w–wanna go t–to Mounty an’ R–Rainy.”

“I’m sure they’d love to have you, kiddo. Do you wanna sit down for a moment?” The little ghoul nods into his chest and pulls away to take a hold of Aether’s hand instead. The other walks them to his little office and flops down onto a big chair before patting his lap in an invitation. Aeon, of course, takes it and curls up against the older ghoul in a cat-like manner. “There we go, all cozy.”

“How’s it in here today?” Swiss asks him, sitting on the edge of Aether’s desk.

“I’m not going to use the s-word,” he laughs, “but there haven’t been any incidents yet.”

“Gotcha.” The multi ghoul nods. A relative silence falls after that, interrupted only by the most adorable quiet purring coming from the little ghoul curled up in Aether’s lap. He and Swiss gesture and mouth to themselves above Aeon’s head about just how precious he is.

It’s a while before someone moves—the big ghouls think Aeon has fallen asleep. At some point a sibling of sin comes in needing Aether’s assistance, though, so Swiss and Aeon decide to get going.

“I’ll text Mountain to tell him we’re on our way,” Swiss tells the little ghoul.

Before they leave, Aether squeezes Aeon once again and gives him a few lollipops to share with Swiss, Rainy and Mountain. The little ghoul is overjoyed. He and Swiss leave the infirmary and the multi ghoul offers Aeon a piggy back ride again; he takes the offer, of course. A few minutes into their walk Swiss feels a vibration and hears a ping coming from his phone. He pauses and fishes it out to check the notification.

“Mountain asks if we can bring some snacks for lunch on our way,” he turns his head to look at Aeon as best as he can with him hanging off of his back. “What do you say?”

“Yes, snackies! Le’s go!”

“Alright, then,” Swiss giggles and turns in the ghouls’ den direction.

Aeon is so much happier after visiting Aether and the prospect of playing with his best friend; he’s kicking his legs and humming as the multi ghoul carries him down to the kitchen.

“Okay, what do we take?” Swiss asks when they reach the kitchen and he sits the little ghoul on the counter. “Definitely some Capri-Sun for you.”

“For Rainy t–too!” Aeon reminds him. “An’–an’ the crackers, Rainy loves the c–crackers.”

Swiss could just about melt at how caring, kind and considerate Aeon is, big or small.

“Capri-Sun and crackers for Rainy, got it,” he says as he throws them into a basket. “Something else you want?”

“Hm…” he considers for a second, “the–the ap’l sauce! For me an’ Mounty.”

Swiss and pulls some apple sauce packets from a cupboard.

“Ap’l s–sauce for Mounty ‘cause i’s green like h–him,” Aeon explains and the multi ghoul nods in acknowledgement, smiling.

“Anything else, buggy?”

“Somefink for y–you!” the little ghoul points out. “You like the c–cookies.”

“Oh, I really do like cookies, you’re right,” Swiss hums and gets a pack into their basket. “I think that’s all we need, hm?”

“Yes! Wanna p–play wiv Rainy now!”

“So excited, aren’t you?” Aeon nods; so excited indeed. “Alright, but I’m afraid you have to walk this time, I have to carry the basket.”

“Dat’s fine,” the little ghoul shrugs and hops off of the counter. “Le’s go!”

He’s out the door before Swiss even grabs the basket, laughing. He follows two steps behind Aeon until they’re outside and halfway down the way to the greenhouse.

“Can I r–run?” he asks, giving Swiss his best puppy eyes.

“Yeah, you can, buggy.”

“Wohooo!” He grins and turns on his heel right away.

“Just be careful!” Swiss calls after him. It’s not a huge distance to the greenhouse from there and the way is rather even so the multi ghoul doesn’t worry. He watches as the little ghoul runs with his tail swishing behind him and storms into Mountain’s greenhouse.

Swiss makes his way down slowly and with care to the snacks he’s carrying. When he gets inside he sees Mountain standing over and watching with a smile as the two little ghouls hug each other. Swiss grins and comes up to the earth ghoul to hug him, too.

“Hi, big guy. They’re so cute my heart hurts,” he chuckles.

“They really are,” Mountain agrees. “You should’ve seen them when Aeon just got here.”

“Ah, can’t miss it next time.” Rain and Aeon finally pull away and the little water ghoulette runs up to greet Swiss—one of her favorite caregivers—while Aeon goes to Mountain.

“Hey, princess,” the multi ghoul murmurs into Rain’s hair as she throws his arms around him.

Aeon all but climbs Mountain at the same time. “I g–got ap’l sauce for you!”

“Did you, now? That’s very nice, Aeon, thank you!” the earth ghoul giggles, holding him up under his legs after he wrapped them around his waist. The quintessence ghoul holds on tightly for a little while longer—just as Rain is holding onto Swiss—but eventually they all part.

“Alright, who’s hungry?” Swiss asks, holding up the basket they brought. “We’ve got snacks!”

“Yippee!” Rain cheers, clapping her hands as she sits on a big picnic blanket Mountain spread out in the middle of the greenhouse. Aeon grabs something from the basket before joining her.

“I have c–crackers and Capri-Sun f–for you, Rainy,” the quintessence ghoul hands them to her, both blushing slightly.

“It’s my favorite crackers!” Rain beams as she grabs the snacks and inspects them. “Thank you, Ae!”

“You’re wellc–come,” Aeon giggles. Swiss sets the basket between the two little ghoul’s and sits with Mountain a little to the side, giving Rain and Aeon some space for themselves.

The little quintessence ghoul grabs himself a juice, sticks the straw in and starts to slurp happily, but his brows furrow when he notices Rain struggling with opening it.

“D’you wan’ h–help, Rainy?” he offers shyly.

The little water ghoulette only nods and hands her Capri-Sun to Aeon for him to open. It really is tricky sometimes and no one is better skilled in it than him. He hands it back to her with a bright grin, so proud of himself and happy to help his friend.

“Thank you,” Rainy mumbles. After that it’s all a blur for her and Aeon, really. They share their snacks—Swiss and Mountain gasp when Rain gives Aeon one of her crackers; she rarely shares those, they’re special—and once the basket is empty, they jump up excited and full of energy to play. The caregivers keep an eye on them for the next few hours as they run around the greenhouse and outside of it, playing in so many creative ways. They play hide and seek and tag and some game without a name that is apparently based on hanging things off of their horns. They both have so much fun that day it feels like it’s going to be impossible to get them to their beds.

Mountain and Swiss only decide it’s time for Rain and Aeon’s day to end when both littles start yawning and rubbing their eyes. Their decision is only proven right when they don’t protest being picked up and carried back to the Abbey.

The dinner in the den is planned quite late today because of Aether’s long shift in the infirmary, which means Swiss and Mountain having two littles on their hands have to come up with something else themselves. They make it work; the earth ghoul takes Rain and Aeon to entertain them—and keep them from falling asleep—on the couch in the common room while Swiss makes them all grilled cheese and pours some juice into their sippy cups.

Both littles are exhausted after the long—but super fun—day they had, yawning every two minutes as Mountain does his best to distract them from the tiredness tugging down their eyelids.

The grilled cheese by Swiss—no one misses the joke potential there—is always delicious and even despite their compelling need to sleep, Aeon and Rain devour it like never before. When the plates are clean, Mountain picks Rain up and sets her on his hip and they both murmur the others’ goodnight. Swiss grabs Aeon, too, switches the common room lights off and carries the little quintessence ghoul to his bedroom.

“I’d let you skip the shower tonight if not for the dirt on your face,” Swiss remarks, swiping a gentle finger through the aforementioned mud on Aeon’s cheek.

“I c–can show’r, ‘s okay,” he assures the multi ghoul and he doesn’t doubt it.

“Alright,” he smiles, “I’ll prepare some cozy jammies for you and leave them by the tub, okay? Then I’ll wait here for you.”

“Mhm, ok–kay.”

“Off you go then.” Swiss ruffles his hair. “Just be careful, don’t slip, buggy.”

Aeon nods once again and disappears into the bathroom. As promised, the multi ghoul gets his jammies and once he hears the shower curtain being closed and the water being turned on, he steps into the bathroom and lays the clothes on a tray by the tub.

As he waits for the quintessence ghoul to be done, Swiss takes care of the nest; fluffing up and rearranging the pillows and blankets. He sits Aeon’s plushie atop it all—handling it with the care it deserves—changes into pajamas himself and waits. He emerges from the bathroom soon enough, with wet hair and a tired face.

“Really sleepy again, aren’t we, buggy?” Swiss asks, but not to tease. Aeon gets extremely cuddly and soft when he’s like this and the multi ghoul can never get enough of spending time with him.

“Mhm…’m real s’eepy,” he confirms before letting out yet another yawn.

“You’re adorable,” Swiss mutters, making Aeon smile softly. “Come on, bedtime.”

The little ghoul obliges, crawling into the nest and wiggling his body to bury himself under all the comforters. He grabs his plushie and brings it close to his face to rub it against his cheek. Swiss feels like he could melt into a puddle at the spot as he watches him.

He gets in after him and lays on his side—head propped up against his bent arm—letting the little ghoul choose if he wanted contact or not; and if he did, what kind. Of course it was easy to presume that Aeon would shuffle closer, but Swiss always gives him space to make a choice.

The little quintessence ghoul lays his head against Swiss’ arm and puts his face close to his chest—he loves being all small and safely tucked against the bigger ghoul. Swiss wraps his free arm around him and holds him close.

“C–can I get a bed st–story?” Aeon whispers after a minute; barely audible as he’s already falling asleep.

“Of course you can, buggy,” Swiss answers equally quietly. He leans down to kiss his forehead before starting the tale. “Once upon a time, deep in the woods, there was a tunnel. It wasn’t a normal tunnel, it was a magical one made of big trees…”

Aeon is fast asleep before Swiss even gets to introducing the main character.

[stevie-petey]

How about Steve and bug talking about what they think their future is gonna be like? When he comes and visits her at work and they just talk about random stuff. He just says something off handedly like " I hope my kids read like you do, I want them to be booksmart like you." " Do you wanna have kids?"

" oh yeah definitely I want six."

"Six?! I could probably only handle three, if my kids are anything like me they'll be leash kids I'm serious."

And it's just sweet, them talking about how they hope their life to be, not knowing that they're each other's future.

oooo YES !!!

enjoy <3

"how many kids would you want? ya know, assuming you actually do want kids in the future."

steves question causes you to drop the change youd been counting at the register. "im sorry, what?"

"kids?" he sees your bewilderment and frowns. "what, youve never thought about your future?"

"i mean, sure? but i havent given any thought about kids. im sixteen, steve."

"and im seventeen and know for a fact that i want my kids to be booksmart like you." steve responds, not even paying that much attention to you as he busies himself with a comic.

you stare at him in shock. god, steve harrington really does just say the most bizarre things so casually. hes thought about his kids? and about how he wants them to be like you?

sometimes, you really hate that he does this. because then he just leaves you there, always standing in shock, as he goes about his day as if this is all normal.

you take a deep breath and shake your head, you have a job to do. dimes and nickels need to be attended to. "can i ask what sparked this insane thought?"

steve holds up the comic hes reading. "see, these i like. but those books about war and peace? no thanks. but... i dont know. guess theyd be good for my kids, seeing as they made you so smart."

you laugh. "im not the genius you think i am. i still think spider-man is real."

"youre like, the top of your class. shush."

"so sassy for a man who daydreams about having kids." you tease, but something shifts behind steves eyes.

"it is weird, isnt it?" he ducks his head down. "sorry."

well, now you feel bad. sighing, you drop the change in your hand and walk over to steve. sure, its a bit weird, but also incredibly sweet that he already seems to know how he'll raise his kids in the future.

you sit next to him and pluck the comic out of his hands. "so, tell me. how many kids we talking?"

a smile returns to steves face. "definitely, like, six."

"six?" you choke on your spit. "and who is birthing these six fucking children?"

a pause, then a frown. "hm. ya know, i never thought about that."

"bless you," you pat steves knee and he laughs. "i think id like three or so. maybe more, but definitely at least three. i love having a sibling, and i love taking care of dustin and his friends. ive already got years of experience."

"three? weak. do better, y/n." steve pokes your side.

you slap his hand away. "hey, i know im a handful. so is dustin. with my luck, my children will be little mini dustins and that... is a very scary thought."

"im an only child-"

"shocking!"

"anyways, its lonely. so im having as many kids as i possibly can. itd be fun, and id take them out to play baseball and go to parks and build forts and-"

"read them bedtime stories so they become booksmart?"

steve snaps his fingers and smiles. "exactly! you get me, y/n."

you giggle. "i try."

and for the last hour of your shift, you and steve debate the hypotheticals of your futures. steve remains adamant that he becomes a housewife, and you declare that if even one of your kids turns out like dustin, then youre sending them to live with him.

its a good day.

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎