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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    To someone who knew Peter as an adult, his resemblance to the child currently sleeping against her side would be striking, though Felicia was proud to say Walt had her eyes; the chestnut curls, the little furrowed brows, like he was thinking too hard even in his dreams, were all his father’s.

    To someone who had known Peter as a baby, it must be unmistakable. May’s mouth falls open. “Oh,” she says. “Ms. Hardy—”

    “Felicia,” says Felicia, feeling awkward, and takes a step forward. “Sorry about how late it is.”

    “That’s alright,” says May, with the immediacy of the instinctively kind. Her eyes are still on little Walt—Felicia knows the feeling—and then she gives a little cough and looks up at Felicia. “I think we’re going to need some tea.”

    ----

    Written for PeterFeliciaWeek 2020 Day Six: Family.

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    01 May 2026

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    “Miles, y’know, it’s sweet of you to keeping checking in on me, it really is,” he said, “but it’s really not necessary –”

    He stopped, halfway done rolling off the couch, his jaw hanging open. It wasn’t Miles framed in the window but a small child – a little boy of about seven or eight years old, with messy brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

    “Who’s Miles?” the kid had the audacity to ask.

    --

    Three generations of Hardys show up at Peter's window.

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    01 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 1

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    Headcanons for Chairemi and a reader who likes theater.

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    29 Apr 2026

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    People don’t expect Karlach to be very observant.

    whumptober no. 12: “I haven’t slept in days, but who’s counting?” Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

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    26 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Karlach smiles at him as the sun begins to set, her eyes softening around the corners, a nervous look flickering over her features. And Astarion is already expecting what comes next, but it still feels like shards of ice blooming behind his ribs.

    “Do you think I can sleep in your tent tonight? Now that I can’t hurt you or set the damn thing on fire.” She asks with a breathy chuckle, an uncharacteristic anxiety making her shift on her feet, her bottom lip caught under her teeth. He has no disillusions on what her words could mean. She’s not likely looking to do much sleeping when she is free to touch him now.

     

    (Or, Karlach can freely touch the people she loves now. Astarion makes a few wrong assumptions.)

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    26 Apr 2026