#to domestic/slice-of-life fluff

[sayakxmi]

Imagining Dave and Jade furniture shopping for their new house, and Dave wanders off a little as Jade still looks at these pretty LED lights, contemplating purchase, only for him to return quickly, excited in a somewhat mischievous way, and then he proceeds to drag her to show her the single ugliest rug she had seen in her entire life. "It's horrendous," she tells him. "We're putting it in the living room."

They buy the LEDs, too.

[caelanglang]

when they started to fall, it never stopped : skk

[late-nightfalls]

Think about Bruce Wayne trying to do his little girl's hair before she goes to school.

The girl wanted a pretty braid or she wouldn't go to school, no way!

Bruce has no idea how to do this. He's in trouble!

Alfred is not participating! He can't!

Alfred can only watch from afar as Batman faces one of his biggest challenges: Brushing his daughter's hair.

"Boss Bruce, maybe you should ask for help"

"Negative"

He asked for help shortly afterwards.

[hitlikehammers]

safe under you

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar husbands, writing vows, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day nineteen: Love is the comfort of quiet moments  (@tboygareth)

the rockstar husbands are back on their soft-sleepy-romantic bullshit idk ♥️ maybe I'll get around to writing the ACTUAL VOWS next time

“You’re so quiet.”

Which meant Eddie should have heard his husband approaching but: as it stands he really, really didn’t, and he jumps hard when Steve whispers from behind his shoulder over the back of the couch.

Steve laughs at the glare Eddie shoots him—a half-hearted one at best but there—as he reaches to start rubbing at the crook of his neck, up and down on either side and the glaring goes away instantly because: Steve Harrington?

Has magical hands.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs close to Eddie’s ear and Eddie hums a little as he gathers himself from going immediately-boneless under Steve’s touch, the kneading of his palm against Eddie’s strained muscles because he’s been down here…not too long, he doesn’t think. They’d gone to bed together at normal time, and he’d fallen asleep, too; he’d just been restless when he woke up, and knew it was the kind of thing he wouldn’t get more rest out of unless he did something about it, so he’d kissed Steve’s head and rolled out of bed, regretful for it but hopeful, too, that if he gave in to the nagging at the back of his head, he’d quiet it enough to be able to slip back in next to his beloved, and lean against the mattress just so, so that Steve’s arms could curl around him as they always did: soft and sweet and waiting to hold him.

Eddie just hasn’t…managed to get there, yet.

“Writing,” Eddie sighs, and then whines a little as Steve’s hands leave their place on his shoulders, and he turns to look because where’s Steve going, Steve shouldn’t go anywhere, Steve should stay right—

Here.

And look at that: Steve’s plopping himself down on the sofa next to Eddie, a little too far but then he’s scooting further, and Eddie opens his mouth to protest but then Steve’s dropping down, draping his body over Eddie’s lap and laying against him, looking up at him with still-half-sleepy eyes and just…

He’s just so fucking beautiful, y’know?

“You’re never quiet when you’re writing,” Steve says, head tilted up, eyes closed as he leans back against the armrest where Eddie’s got his notebook, his face so soft. His mouth so soft—

“Campaign, you mumble to yourself,” Steve continues on, his voice syrupy, still only half-committed to waking; “lyrics, you hum if you don’t have a guitar,” and then he reaches down toward Eddie’s knee and taps rhythmic there:

“And you drum your fingers,” and Steve smiles as his fingers dance for a few languid moments before he eases his lashes open and meets Eddie’s gaze, because Eddie’s gaze has been on his since he settled in his lap.

Because: duh.

“Looks like it’s hard, too,” Steve sucks his lower lip between his teeth, face still soft but mouth quirked just a little downward, still a little dream-soaked and Eddie love that part, but: never the downturn of that mouth.

“Hmm?” Eddie rumbles low so Steve’ll maybe feel it a little where he’s pressed; the little hazy giggle Steve lets out as he nuzzles into Eddie’s middle just that tiny bit: he felt.

Eddie likes to think he’s never been so in love, but he doesn’t…he doesn’t believe he’s ever not loved Steve with all of his everything.

He’s just wholly convinced that his everything grows with ever moment beside this man, every heartbeat lived together: it stretches him wider, broader every day for the singular purpose of holding the all of his love ever-bigger.

“Whatever you’re working on,” Steve murmurs, just short of sleep-slurred; “you’ve got this,” and he reaches, bats a little around Eddie’s face before he lands between his eyebrows and smooths the skin there which, okay, fine, had been all wrinkled-up.

“Means you’re concentrating too hard,” Steve comments sagely, patting Eddie’s cheek a little blind as he settles wholly back in Eddie’s lap.

“This happens to be very important,” Eddie counters with a tiny flick to Steve’s ear, which is met with a little squeak that warms his insides so delicate, so thorough and full.

“Doubtful,” Steve manages to scoff, like he’s tipping closer to wakefulness but not there yet; “not important enough to make you,” and Steve’s the one flicking now, light at Eddie’s forearm in emphasis:

“Quiet and frowny.”

He’s so…he’s fucking edible he’s so adorable, that’s what he is—Jesus.

“Not frowny,” Eddie lets a little at Steve’s hair, all tousled from the bed; “invested.”

Steve purses his lips and tries—fails, but tries—to peek at the notebook on level with his temple.

“What’s got you so invested, then?” he finally gives up trying to turn and read where Eddie’s hasn’t even bothered trying to hide, not least because there is nothing there, and just asks. And Eddie could dodge it. Steve would respect it if he did.

But he…he doesn’t. Generally speaking he doesn’t hide anything from Steve. Big or small. Their life is a shared thing from top to bottom and Eddie loves that about them so fucking fierce, so. He just sighs and admit it.

“My vows.”

Because that’s what’s been keeping him up, that’s what drove him out of the soft joy of their bed, that’s what amounted to scribbles and cross-outs alone on the page in front of him and it should be this hard, Eddie’s a decent enough lyricist, not to mention most of his songs all this time are for, or inspired by, or just about, generally, all-encompassingly: Steve. It’s always Steve.

Which makes it that much more unbearable that he can’t seem to fucking write his goddamn vows.

Then, though, just then; the most unexpected thing happens. Or starts.

Steve starts shaking against him and there a half-second he’s worried—does it hurt his sweetheart, that he can’t get the words down, does it make him sad, is he cryi—

No.

No: it only takes half-a-second for the anxiety to fade and the sound to register alongside the trembling: Beautiful. Radiant. Still wholly unexpected.

Steve’s laughing.

“That’s silly,” Steve finally tells him, looking up at him with genuine north in his eyes and yes, he’s still a little sleepy-drunk, but the feeling is wholly present and…

Eddie isn’t sure what to do with it—wants to just wrap himself inside it and savor but: his vows…laughable?

Silly?

“What?”

“You’ve already made your vows,” Steve grins up at him, all brightness; “like, three times,” and, okay.

Okay, that’s not exactly wrong, though he could probably try to argue that it was more three proposals’ worth of vows, and are those actually vows, if it’s just a proposal—

“Proposals fucking count,” Steve waves his wrist definitively and…Eddie isn’t sure if he said any of that out loud?

Then: probably wouldn’t make a difference either way. They know each other.

“The first one was legitimately with the twisty-tie from a loaf of Home Pride,” Eddie points out because: because that…that’s probably not as important—

“Mmhmm,” Steve hums, and lifts his left hand: there’s a simple ring on his left hand, pricey for their budget when they’d gathered their family and committed to always in front of them under a temperate Indiana summer’s sky, bonfire and barbecue lively in the background: but that ring wasn’t smooth; it had a long-worn-bare stick of metal wrapped around it and soldered, one that used to be covered in bright paper to stick out against a plastic bread bag:

“I remember well,” and Steve sounds so soft, so blissfully taken in by the memory of that first time Eddie had proposed and, fuck.

Fuck, the butterflies never go away, do they? That effervescent joy stays fresh and vivacious forever.

Thank fuck; he wants no less of this; for them. The love they have deserves no less.

“Still want to melt down the Ring Pop,” Steve says as he plays with his ring; “make it match,” and that’d been the second time: Steve had bought Eddie a ring at a ren faire, and Eddie’d been beside himself to reciprocate, immediately, because Steve deserved no less, and that was how the bum-end of a long-licked Ring Pop came to live eternally on Steve’s keys.

To be eyed for melting into a full-hoop shape for years, now, but Eddie kinda thinks it’s loved and treasured plenty, just as it already is.

“I love you so fucking much,” Steve tells him, apropos of nothing, and that’s…that’s kind of exactly how they work, yeah. They just love.

So fucking much.

Eddie’s pulse kinda skips with it, bounces like pigtails hopscotching along, all unbridled glee. He draws Steve hand to his lips, kisses his knuckles.

“Aren’t you,” Eddie swallows as he lifts his blank notebook and shakes it around a little: “aren’t you stressing over them?”

Because it doesn’t sound like he is, and that’s…sure, they’ve done this before, if not with a license in hand like they will this time. But Steve’s always been more prone to worry over stuff like this. So while Eddie doesn’t want the man he loves to be anxious, he is…kinda wondering, is all.

“Not writing any,” Steve shrugs and lets the motion turn him a little against Eddie’s lap, to look up more straight-on.

“You know I’m not great with words,” Steve tells him simply; “like, planning them out, I’ll fuck it up in the moment and then I’ll just be more flustered.”

And, yeah: okay. That’s a fair point.

Then there’s a hand slipping up his jaw, and crawling his cheek, and turning him down to look at Steve closer:

“Figured I can just look at you, and I’ll,” Steve’s pupils get bigger as he exhales, as he takes in Eddie’s face and beams at him, strokes his cheekbone with his thumb.

“The most important things are always right there,” Steve breathes warm: “so I’ll just say what’s already waiting.”

And shit. The man says he’s bad at words.

“You’re the light of life, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, contorting himself to lean and Steve sees, arches up to press their lips as Eddie mouths against him: “the song in my soul,” and fuck: he means it so many times over he could never count it, could never pin a number to it. It’s too vast.

“See, look at you,” Steve taps his cheek playfully, but so soaked up with love; “you’ve already got all your words, so,” and then he lets his hand slide off Eddie’ face, and he sits up just to grab at Eddie’s legs, swing them up onto the couch and settles himself between them, tugging Eddie from the calves further down until he’s propping himself up by his palms.

“C’mon,” Steve coaxes, and uses his back to ease Eddie down and: oh. Oh, he wants them laid out on the cushions.

And well: Eddie could, would, will only ever oblige, if the question is do you want to lay down with your husband thrice-almost-four-times-over?

Because again: duh. If they were really in the market for silly ideas.

Steve sighs so happily, so airy and bright even as Eddie reaches to flick the light off, and wraps his arms to rest around Steve, sure and close where he holds him to his chest, folds him in where he already nuzzles deeper and:

It’s how safe my heart feels under the weight of your head.

Well, fuck him.

Maybe he does know his vows already.

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

♥️

divider credit here

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #5: Way of the House Husband AU

I was struck with inspiration: Way of the House Husband but make it Dead on Main (or any other ship you feel like you can make work). One partner is a highly dangerous and powerful figure and the other is just some guy and they’re in love and living a beautiful domestic life even if past annoyances pop up to bother them. The best part is it works both ways for these two. Like imagine Jason’s at the grocery store and runs into a rouge or a gang member or someone from the BatFam but just ignores them. Or Danny wakes up to find one of his rouges at his doorstep for whatever reason and just closes his door and sends them packing. Their both uninterested in returning to a life of crime/crime fighting and just want to live as a happy, peaceful, “normal” couple.

[wangxianficrecs]

A Glimpse of Past Glory by masked

🔒 A Glimpse of Past Glory

by masked (@hamburgergod)

T, 1k, Wangxian

Summary: The condition is that they can’t use their cultivation since the ghost was a non-cultivator and wants a normal sword duel. This was all fine and well until they realized that none of them could win against him, lasting no more than few blows before having their swords and dignity flung out of their hands. “It’d be easier to just eliminate him,” Lan Jingyi mutters. “Otherwise we’ll be here forever.” “Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui scolds. Lan Jingyi is right, of course, but the whole point of elimination is that it’s the absolute last resort. Although it’s not within their own ability to liberate this ghost, there’s… Lan Sizhui glances at Wei Wuxian, standing idly by while he picks at under his fingernails. - A glimpse of Wei Wuxian and the Gusu Lan disciples on a night-hunt. Kay's comments: Short and sweet, the juniors are getting a glimpse at Wei Wuxian's amazing swordfighting-skills and of course, Wangxian are working dilligently towards Wei Wuxian growing a new golden core. Excerpt: Finally, Lan Jingyi’s voice projects over all of them, asking the one big question on their combined minds. “Why did you ever stop using your sword?” he questions. “Demonic cultivation might be useful and convenient, but—but you’re so good! You’re obviously skilled with the sword! Not cultivating with it is such a waste!” Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. He opens his mouth, and everyone quietens to hear his response better. What was the real reason for Wei Wuxian to abandon the way of the sword and start the era of Yiling Laozu’s demonic cultivation when he was already so powerful? “I,” Wei Wuxian answers, “hate sweating.”

pov alternating, post-canon, established relationship, bamf wei wuxian, swordfighting, short & sweet, fluff, domestic fluff, slice of life

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[todorokis-girl]

A cozy afternoon for a busy hero - Hawks

@chantelleyy The fanfic you wanted, I hope it's a little sweet and comforting. You didn't really specify what you wanted, so I made it simple

masterlist

The city buzzed as the sun set, casting warm hues across the skyline. Y/n stood by the large window in her high-rise apartment, nestled in a quiet corner of the bustling metropolis. Her eyes traced the city lights flickering to life, and she couldn't help but smile as she thought of Keigo Takami, known to the world as Hawks. To her, he was just Keigo, the man who made her laugh and filled her days with unexpected joy.

The familiar rustle of feathers broke her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Keigo swoop in through the open balcony door, his wings folding neatly behind him. His amber eyes locked onto hers, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey," he greeted, crossing the room with his usual confident strides. He pulled her into a warm embrace, and Y/n breathed in the comforting scent of him—a mix of his cologne and the crisp air.

"Hey, yourself," she replied, her voice muffled against his chest. Pulling back slightly, she looked up at him with a fond smile. "Rough day?"

Keigo sighed, his expression softening. "Yeah, but being here with you makes it all better."

They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the rare peace. Keigo gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, his touch a silent promise of love and reassurance.

"I'm starving," he declared suddenly, breaking the quiet. "How about we cook something together?"

Y/n's face lit up. "Sounds perfect. What do you have in mind?"

Keigo shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. "Whatever we can find in the kitchen. Let's get creative."

They moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and pantry. Y/n grabbed some vegetables while Keigo found pasta and a few other ingredients. They laughed and chatted as they cooked, Keigo occasionally stealing kisses and making funny faces to keep Y/n entertained.

"You're not helping," she giggled as he snuck a piece of carrot from the chopping board.

"I'm moral support," he retorted, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Once their impromptu meal was ready, they set the table and sat down to eat. The aroma of the homemade pasta filled the room, and they savored each bite, enjoying the simple pleasure of a meal shared together.

"This is really good," Keigo said between bites, looking genuinely impressed.

"Not bad for a couple of amateurs," Y/n replied with a grin. "Maybe we missed our calling as chefs."

Keigo chuckled. "Who knows? We might have a future in it."

After dinner, they cleaned up the kitchen together, their movements synchronized in the comfortable routine they had established. With the dishes done, they settled on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over their legs.

Keigo grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through channels until they found a movie they both liked. As the film played, Y/n snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, his fingers absentmindedly playing with her hair.

"I love these moments," Y/n whispered, her voice soft and content.

"Me too," Keigo replied, his voice equally gentle. "It's nice to just be together, without any of the craziness."

They watched the movie in comfortable silence, the warmth of their shared presence making the small apartment feel like the coziest place in the world. When the credits rolled, Keigo glanced down at Y/n, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"Ready for bed?" he asked softly.

She nodded, yawning. "Yeah, I am."

They got up and made their way to the bedroom. Y/n changed into her pajamas while Keigo quickly checked his phone for any urgent messages. Once they were both ready, they climbed into bed, the familiar comfort of the sheets and each other easing them into a state of relaxation.

Keigo pulled Y/n close, his wings draping over them like a protective canopy. "Goodnight, Y/n," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"Goodnight, Keigo," she murmured back, her eyes already closing.

As they drifted off to sleep, the sounds of the city outside faded into the background, leaving only the steady rhythm of their breathing and the quiet assurance of their love. In the simplicity of their home, a feathered hero and his beloved found solace in each other's arms, their hearts forever entwined.

[purpleenma]

Made this sketch for my dear @spongynova that I love so much 💜

Please click for better quality because Tumblr is murdering the poor sketch.

*Some background info under the cut.

If you have ever read the official Star Trek cookbook, there's a recipe that's called "Captain Kirk's plomeek soup" and I've always hc that Jim worked on that recipe to adapt it better specifically to Spock's taste.

So I drew the triumvirate here about to try out Jim's version of the recipe, helping out with the chores. Jim is confident in his recipe but Bones likes to jokingly tease him even if the doctor knows full well he'd eat whatever Jim prepares regardless, but he's also thrilled this idea will make Jim eat more vegetables xD Spock is a bit nervous about the changes but deep inside he's also expectant and honoured that Jim took the time to make something thinking of him.

And yes, Jim wears a novelty apron, he has several, some with more femcoded bodies. He chooses which one to wear based on vibes.

I really had a lot of fun sketching this, I might shade it in the future or maybe add some fast colouring, but it will have to wait because I have to keep taking things off my pile of To Dos xD

[secretidentie]

I JUST NEED EARLY 30's CLARK AND BRUCE LIVING THEIR BEST LIFE IN A CONDO TOGETHER 😭😭😭IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR????

[cheeseceli]

Sweet night

Pairing: Taehyun × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, short drabble

Summary: you fall in love as easily as you fall asleep (or even easier)

Warnings: none

A/n: this is like super short but I thought it was cute, so here it is!!

You were surprised by how soft Taehyun's touch was.

Of course, you've always pictured him as a gentleman and you were right when it came to that. He was always kind and loving towards you. However, this was a whole new level.

The difference from right now to his usual touch was the fact that he was asleep. His eyes closed and his mind lost in a dream that made him smile a bit for hours now, but he was still touching you. With his arms around your waist and his face close to your neck. You've never felt safer.

He had no idea, but he was touching you with the ultimate care. His cuddle was strong enough to make you feel protected from all the danger in the world, but also soft enough to make you feel comforted. It felt warm and cozy. It felt exactly what love should feel like.

And in that moment you realised he'd probably never know, but he loved you better than anyone else even when he wasn't conscious. And in that moment you didn't realise just yet, but he was only smiling because he was dreaming of you.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: even after all

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @enchanthings

Taglist: @yuyubeans

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Make Yourself at Home by happyaspie

No Archive Warning Apply | Rated G | chapter 5/6 | Irondad. May Parker and Tony Stark Friendship | Platonic Relationships | Found Family | Reverse Trope

Summary: In most stories, Peter tends to make himself at home in Tony's penthouse. They have sleepovers and movie nights, and Peter has everything he needs right there.

Instead, I present to you: Tony gradually finding a second home within the walls of the Parkers' apartment.

[5 Times Tony made an excuse to visit the Parkers' home. And one time the Parkers made an excuse to visit Tony's]

[Excerpt Below the Cut]

The first time Tony showed up at the Parkers’ apartment, it was an impulsive decision. The formally rogue, semi-forgiven Avengers had moved back into the tower and within a week he’d needed a reprieve. Upon that realization, Peter and May’s faces had popped into his head. He didn't oppose it. He simply took off without so much as a text to announce his pending arrival. Although he did have the foresight to buy a bottle of wine before showing up on their doorstep. It was no Romanée-Conti, but he supposed the tiny corner store could only offer so much. With little debate, he’d snagged the priciest moscato off the shelf, paid a whopping twelve dollars and trekked his way up to the Parkers’ front door.

May cracked the door open, just wide enough to see into the hall. “Tony?” she questioned, then rapidly shut the door. The sound of the security chain being released could be heard on the other side. Less than a second later, the door reopened. May stood there for a moment, her eyebrows bunched together in a way that made it look like she was mentally assessing the situation. “Peter left for patrol about an hour ago. Was he- did he forget you two had plans?”

With his hands tucked neatly behind his back, Tony rocked casually onto his heels. “Nope. Just thought I’d stop by.” He brought the bottle of wine to his front, held up forward and smiled. “I bought wine.”

May’s expression shifted as she accepted the bottle of cheap wine. She still looked thoroughly bewildered, but amusement was starting to shine through. “I- Okay.” She blinked, took a few steps back, and held the door wide open. “I’ll grab some cups.”

Tony took that as an invitation and entered the quaint entryway. May led him though the small open living area. He glanced around, debating where to sit. There is a round wooden table with mismatched chairs on one side of the room and a well-loved brown couch on the other. “Table?” he asked, as May disappeared into the narrow galley kitchen.

“Sure! I'll be right there.”

[continue reading on AO3]

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie dads and their daughter Ella. She is 10 and walks home from school and is home alone for 15 minutes while Robin is on her way home from work. She has to call Eddie at the shop to let him know she got home safe. Then Eddie texts Steve and lets him know because Steve can’t answer the phone at the salon.

One day she gets home and calls her dad like usual on his personal phone and lets him know she is home safe the door is locked and she had a good day. Eddie tells her he can’t wait to hear about the rest of her day at dinner. She hangs up puts her stuff away and heads to the kitchen. She always has a snack after school but aunt Robin usually makes her eat something healthy. She tries to call Eddie again on his phone, its only been 5 minutes but he doesn’t answer. She tries again and nothing. Then she calls Aunty Robin but she doesn’t answer either. She resorts to calling the mechanic shop.

“Wayne’s garage, this is Connie how can I help you?”

“Um…hi. I need to ask my daddy a question.”

“Ah hah um okay, and who is your daddy dear.”

“Um..Eddie?…he is my daddy, my papa is Steve. Grandpa Wayne works here too.”

“Oh okay I know who you’re talking about. Let me go get him, one second dear.”

A few moments pass and then Eddie’s frantic voice comes across the line. “Baby are you okay? Are you safe? Aunty Robin said you called her too.”

“I’m fine daddy, I just need to ask you a question.” She huffed.

“Baby.” Eddie let out a long breath. “You scared me! Why where you calling everyone like that?”

“Can I have a popsicle?”

…”what?” Eddie chuckled.

“Can I have a popsicle…please?”

“Yea, you know what sure honey. But we have to talk about a better way to ask next time okay?”

“Ok…so I can have the popsicle?”

Eddie full on laughed this time, “yeah go ahead have a popsicle honey.”

Later that night they talk to Ella about emergencies and a better way to ask next time while she has another popsicle. Steve says she can’t have another tomorrow but Eddie shakes his head and winks at her.

[up-to-some-good]

Early Days

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic - Slice of Life (360 words)

CW: mention of child abuse

Sirius had never been a morning person. When he was a child, before Hogwarts, his mother would punish him for arriving at breakfast late, one lash across his knuckles for every minute he was late. Sometimes, he'd stay up all night just to avoid the punishment.

For his first few years at school, James would wake him up. He was gentle at first, shaking his friend awake, but eventually he resorted to dumping water on him and stealing his blankets when Sirius was too stubborn.

The last few years at Hogwarts were much better. Remus would wake him up slowly, pressing kisses into his hair and whispering gently to him. Remus was patient enough to give him time to wake up and got up early enough on his own to make sure Sirius wouldn't be late.

Now, things were different. Sirius took the late shifts at St Mungo's, so he could sleep in later during the week. He'd wake up slowly, an hour after Remus had left for work, and go through his routine at his own pace. He'd clean up the flat before work and prepare dinner, leaving it under a stasis charm for Remus to come home to.

Weekends were his favourite. Days like today, when he'd wake up to the mid-morning sun streaming through their window, the smell of coffee coming from the bedside table. Remus was already awake, perpetually an early riser, reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of tea. They'd spend an hour or so in bed together, Sirius dozing on Remus's lap while he finished reading the paper.

Eventually, they'd get up and make breakfast together. Or, at least, they'd start together until Sirius took over to ensure the food would be edible. Remus would watch him cook from the kitchen table, enjoying Sirius's gentle singing as he worked.

They'd eat together and go through the rest of their morning the same way, bumping hips as they brushed their teeth in their tiny bathroom. They'd make it out of the house by noon at the earliest, most days.

It was the same every weekend, consistent and boring and repetitive. It was perfect.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Home to me

by 42hrb

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, The Party (Stranger Things), Dustin Henderson Additional Tags: Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slice of Life, Friendship, Growing Old Together, Domestic Fluff, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Lives, Happy Ending, because they deserve a happy ending Words: 6,316 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Steve Harrington was not worried about Eddie Munson. Eddie was a grown-ass adult man with a high school diploma who had done a pretty huge part in saving the world only 6 months before, why should Steve be worried? Except maybe he was a little bit worried. He hung the phone up after his third attempt at calling Eddie with a huff.

[steddieunderdogfics]

For the ~300 hits fic, this one is really cute and absolutely deserves more attention!! 🦝🫶

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54862822

made of brick & stone | built on laughter

literaldisneyprincess

made of brick & stone | built on laughter by literaldisneyprincess

Rating: General audiences

3,395 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Animals, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DIY, Fluff

Summary:

It all starts with a raccoon. Well, that depends where you want to start from, really. But this particular part of their life, this starts with a raccoon. In which Steve and Eddie rescue critters, renovate a farm, and love each other through it all.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with ~300 hits.

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[aidaran-alha]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Explicit When they’d been told to go forth and reproduce, the humans had really paid attention, Aziraphale decided, looking at how crowded the market was. Under the rays of the sun, listening to their chatter, he could almost forget for a moment that this was his life now. That it was a punishment rather than just another assignment.

It could be worse, he thought. He could have been dragged to Hell for real. The redhead demon could have just let him go there, making him someone else’s problem. What was it with Crawley and defying every single rule? Why was he protecting him?

Whatever the reason for that was, Aziraphale found himself wishing Crawley would never stop being himself.

“So, what do we do here?” Aziraphale nervously asked the demon.

“Mm? Oh, I was thinking petty theft.”

“You what ?”

“Y’know, just enough to keep them happy downstairs,” Crawley flashed an amused smile, “so that they don’t come to bug us. You make some people angry, send some reports back home ‘bout it, everybody is happy.”

“Except those you bugged up here.”

“Ah, but isn’t that the point of it?” Continue reading here: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54816064/chapters/139458214#workskin Summary:

God was watching when Aziraphale ate the ox rib. When he conspired against Her and tricked her angels. When he lied to Heaven.

And falling should be bad, the worst thing to ever happen to him. Except that it's not. Crawley seems to want nothing but to protect him from Hell, to keep him close as he learns the ropes of being a demon assigned to Earth.

Maybe a side of their own is not such a bad and lonely thing after all.

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