#FLUFFITY FLUFF

[getawayfox]

Last prompt!🥺 @hdcandyheartsfest it’s been so fun! This is 190 words for “Honeymoon”.

Sending air kisses all the way to @crazybutgood 😘

“When was the last time you were on vacation?”

Silence. Draco is standing at the sink with his back to Harry, washing dishes after their dinner. He does it the Muggle way, says it helps him clear his mind. His fingers are gentle on a wine glass.

“Draco…”

“I’m thinking,” he says, sinking another glass into the water.

Harry slides his hands around his middle, kisses the back of his neck. Feels Draco relax a fraction.

“Not all of us have unlimited free time at our disposal, you know,” Draco tells the suds.

Harry works his hands up, rubs Draco’s shoulders gently. “Last month, you did double shifts because Padma was on her honeymoon. So don’t tell me that Healers don’t ever go on holidays.”

“Yes, well. Honeymoon’s different.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up. His hands pause their work on Draco’s back. “Let’s get married, then. Let’s do it right now and we can be on the beach tomorrow!”

Draco snorts. “You’d do anything to see me in a pair of swimming shorts.” He turns in the circle of Harry’s arms, kisses him, slow, lingering. “Holidays, then. Tell me where you want to go.”

[ussjellyfish]

Fluffity fluff letter (placeholder)

Thank you for making something for me! I'm so excited to see what you create.

I love getting gifts and I am going to be thrilled.

I will try to add some more specifics, but they are merely prompts and you should make what will bring you joy).

General likes

mission that is not a date is really quite like a date

gentle conversations working on a problem together

only one bed huddling together for warmth

mild hurt/comfort (headaches, little injuries, mild illnesses) the little things character normally wouldn't even want someone to notice that the other character notices.

low stakes adventures that give characters time to talk to each other

awkward dinner parties dress uniforms / fancy cocktail parties / diplomatic functions where everyone feels a little awkward

mutual pining

requited affection that they both are absolutely certain is not requited (but it is)

slice of life

little domestic moments

I know it's very niche, but I love fpreg if that interests you

trapped together

time loops

looking after each other

holding hands

DNWs

permanent character death (non canonical)

heavy angst

non con

A/B/O verse

anal sex

incest

character or pairing bashing

[assortedvillainvault]

I said I was gonna request you, and i'm finally here. Can I request more fluff Headcanons for Facilier, Headless horseman and Horned king?? 🥺 Thank uuu 💫💫 hope you're doing amazing btw <3

BUBBLY i'm so so sorry for the wait on this, I've done nothing but rotate this ask in my head for 12 months, please enjoy-!

FLUFF HEADCANNONS

Dr Faciler:

- This MAN-

- Smooooooth as butter in a slow warmed skillet in summer.

- He’s an elegant chaperone draped in shadow, a hand in the darkness, a gentlemanly escort through the city streets, he’s basically able to hear you through every dark nook and cranny in New Orleans and assistance for anything is only the bat of an eyelash at a dark alley away.

- There’s. There’s so many petnames. The way he purrs ‘Darlin’’ feels like some kind of sin.

- You better believe half of New Orleans owes him a favour or two, so when he decides to take you out on the town, you’re getting nothing but the best service. It may not be the kind of highfalootin’ places he feels you deserve, but hidden in alleyways and in cellars lives New Orleans most raucous, lively, swingin’ nightlife and you’ll both be dancing till your feet fall off.

- Even as you both go for a pleasant walk around town, his ceaseless fingers are dipping into pockets and swiping passersby to get you something nice.

- While you’ve grown used to the sensation of being watched from the darkness, Facilier started taking pains to steer you away from where the city borders the bayou after you told him you felt watched there too.

- Mama Odie has her ways of keeping tabs on you both – and the horrified look on Facilier’s face when she hollered across the river “Stand up straight!” and “Y/N better be eatin’ right!” and “I better see some grandbabies!” (regardless of gender, she has her ways) was priceless.

Headless Horseman:

- Though he can vocalise, it often hurts, so when you appeared with a book on sign language he couldn’t help but sweep you up into a tight embrace.

- You’ve gotten familiar with the signs for ‘hello’ and ‘come here’ and ‘I love you’, the last being something he takes great pride in making you blush with.

- If you don’t know how to ride, he’ll teach you, though you know for a fact his horse Alpatraum only tolerates it because the Horseman is there to supervise. You’re getting thrown otherwise.

- (since learning said horse has a severe weakness for sugar cubes you’ve been graduated from ‘annoyance’ to ‘my annoyance with snacks’. He’ll let you pet him eventually, don’t worry.)

- If you have your own horse, it’s romantic nighttime rides through the woods as far as the eye can see. But HH's favourite is when you smirk and dare him to catch you, taking off at a gallop and laughing as he races in pursuit, the horses hooves like thunder as he gives chase.

- He loves it when you get chilly, because it means he can wrap you up in his cloak and snuggle in the saddle.

- Lowkey loves it when you carve him new faces/heads for halloween, though does have a slight caveat that you please keep the design somewhat frightening. If he’s left with the hello kitty pumpkin again yes he’ll begrudgingly wear it because you worked hard on it but you’re getting stuck up a tree as penance.

The Horned King

- Tf do you mean fluff he’s cold he’s hard he’s ragged he is terror he is death whispered on the wind-

-If you kiss his hand he nearly pitches over.

- The longer you’re in his company, the more you can observe his mocking use of endearments become ever so slowly more sincere, until only he is allowed to call you sweet things – which becomes a rule enforced with ruthless efficiency in his castle.

-He enjoys walking and talking with you, which is good because you’re the only person on the goddamn planet that can convince this lich to leave his depression hole of a private tower and get him to experience a change of scenery. Even just around the parapets would be enough, and then he gets to offer you his arm for the uneven ground and have you lean on him and oh, yes absolutely dear we can make this a daily occurrence-

- His major love language is quality time – simply being in your presence is enough to soothe the hard edges of any day. His favourite thing is just the two of you existing in the same space, quietly doing your own thing, and maybe settling in for some idle handholding just to make things Perfect.

- As a sidenote – you know the thing? With the gentle handholding and the little thumb-stroke over the back of the hand? Yeah. Yeah. That.

- Because he struggles with actually directly verbalising soft feelings (he’s allergic to announcing he’s secretly made of bone shaped mush), he’s come up with the genius coping mechanism of ‘Acts of Service – gaslighting edition’.

- Example:

- “...Sire did you order the men to renovate my room??”

- “The castle requires upkeep, my dear.”

- “...but the renovations seem to comprise of. Just my room.”

- “...Perhaps once the men and Creeper prove themselves deserving of leakproof roofs and sufficient insulation I will order their quarters improved also. Now hush.”

Once again Bubbly I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you like these little bits!!

[serenaoffaerun]

Tenacity - Chapter 3 of the "Consequences" series

It's finally here!! Thank you all for your patience. Because of the physical letter writing I drew for Tav and Gale's back-and-forth, this took much longer than I anticipated. Plus, the story just kind of...ran away with itself... This chapter comes in at a word count over 8,000 and I don't know how that happened LOL.

Big thanks again to @alpydk who started off this series with what was supposed to be a one-off angst story, and allowed me to write my own sequel chapters to finish the story my own way. (Alphydk's chapter 2 can be found here.) As my first long-form writing in over a decade, it's been a fun challenge to take two characters I love so much and get them out of a position I wouldn't have put them in in the first place. 💜

Without making you all endure any more of my "propensity towards verbosity," I present chapter 3: Tenacity (complete with hand-written letters!)

Summary: After agreeing to try to re-establish their friendship/relationship by writing letters back and forth, Tav and Gale set out on their journey of communicating, listening, and healing. You better believe they're both going to hold on for dear life.

Word Count: 8,289 (I'm not sorry.)

CW: References to depression, alcoholism

Tags: GalexTav, angst/fluff, pre-established (albeit rocky) relationship, future smut? (no spoilers...), brief mention of infertility (in a positive way??), depresso espresso, communication, healing, Tara's getting ALL the tuna.

[I'm sure I left some out, I'll come back and add to it once I get this on AO3 - coming soon!!]

Screenshot: Taken from my own gameplay. Please do not re-post as your own.

NOTE: For those who don't want to read Tav's mediocre (but improving) handwriting or Gale's flowy cursive, the text version is printed below each letter (including doodle descriptions!)

9/2 4:45PM Pacific - EDIT FOR MORE NOTES:

My underlines went away when I copy/pasta'd from GoogleDocs, and now I realize that you can't underline because of links, so they're bolded and italicized instead.

REGARDING BHAALSPAWN INFERTILITY - this is NOT canon to BG3/DnD/Forgotten Realms. I totally made this up to fit my literary needs. 😉

Alpydk's chapter 1: Consequences

Chapter 2: Acquiescence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tav assessed herself before she even opened her eyes. Between the wine and the crying, she was probably the most dehydrated person in all of Faerûn. The pounding headache she was used to. She'd made blackout curtains for a reason, after all. But the soul-wrenching nausea, that was new.

Being blissfully infertile, she knew there was no risk of pregnancy. One of her permanent "gifts" as Bhaal's former Chosen was the ability to be as promiscuous as she pleased without fear of pregnancy in order to weasel her way into the hearts, minds, and pants of any of her previous victims. Not that she'd needed that ability since the Nautiloid, or especially her subsequent severing from said god. But this was no ordinary nausea anyway. It was coming from somewhere much more complex.

Among the growing list of sensations Tav noticed from her downward-facing zombie position on the couch, she found two long-lost friends: the physical feeling of being simultaneously sated but also achingly empty in her core, and...hope. Surprisingly enough, she realized it was the latter that brought on the nausea.

Crippling anxiety, overwhelming depression, stabbing guilt, these are feelings she was familiar with and knew how to handle: with denial and alcohol. Just ball it up and shove it in the "future ulcer" pocket by the stomach and cover it up with a bottle of wine or two.

Hope, on the other hand, is a fickle bitch. It introduces the possibility of a better future. The idea that things could get better. Then comes the uncertainty.

‘Desirable things in life are never guaranteed,’ she told herself. ‘You can always lose them. Don't get TOO comfortable! You might still have to live the rest of your life without the man you truly believe is your soulmate.’

Tav had NEVER believed in the idea of a ‘soulmate’ before. That was even more laughable than ‘love at first sight.’ But she’d come to believe it now.

‘And you fucked it up, didn't you? You let yourself have the worst lapse in judgment, then you doubled down on it by screaming and being a hurtful wretch. You did this. You did this and you don’t deserve forgiveness, you don’t deserve mercy. No one else will ever fill the hole in your heart, so you’re going to die alone and unloved. That’s what you deserve.’  

The words from the voice in her head kept playing on a loop for the last six months and they wouldn’t shut up. Drowning them out with wine and sleep had become her modus operandi. There’d been nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for. It was the way things were going to be, she’d accepted it. Especially in the last few months after Waterdeep. She couldn’t have her heart broken again if she didn’t expect anything.

But now, new words were taking up space in her brain. His words.

‘…there was a time that we’d also brought out the best in each other, once. I refuse to believe we can’t find our way back there again.’

‘Fuck.’ Those words had stolen her breath. Given her reason to think that there was a chance. That maybe he would give her the mercy she knew she didn’t deserve. Gale was just that kind of man.

If that were truly the case, though, why did he shut her out so quickly in the first place without getting to even talk about things. Why did he go straight to the biting comments and yelling instead of showing any kind of signs of forgiveness being a possibility.

‘Because you ripped out his heart that was already broken and threw it on the ground with all the remains of any self-confidence he had left after Mystra, you inconsiderate, unfaithful monster. It’s a wonder he’s still alive.’

These were the new conversations Tav now had running back and forth in her head and that’s where the source of the nausea was seated. In the unknown future where happiness still existed. Along the path that could go to life-long depression and loneliness or a blissful existence with the man who completed her, and she wouldn’t know which way she’d end up traveling until she got there. It was terrifying.

‘I refuse to believe we can’t find our way back there again.’

Face still mashed in the couch pillow, she balled up her fist and slammed it down into the cushion. Depression wasn’t going to win today. Or any other day, for that matter, at least not like it had been. She would not allow herself to be swept up in the waves of self-loathing and doubt to the point of being non-functional. Not anymore.

She took a deep breath and sat up, eyes still closed. There was a warmth on her face that she knew would be the late-morning sun coming in through the living room window. As she cracked her eyes open, she winced as the light seared into her brain and fired off pain signals. Slowly, she stood up, walked across the room, and felt around for the blackout curtains.

Medicine. Shower. Food. In that order.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Looking around the room later that day, Tav felt pretty proud of herself. Once she got herself cleaned, fed, and a bit more clear-headed, she opened the curtains again and opened all the windows. Her little depression hole needed a good airing out.

Starting with all the trash, she got rid of the wine bottles, the old food, even the bin filled with dirt and burned clothing. After washing off surfaces and sweeping floors, she put all the books back on the shelf, keeping a box full of scrolls and a quill pulled out on her desk. One sandwich and two sinks full of dishes later, it was nearing night time, but she had one more task ahead of her: the letter.

She’d been chewing over words in her head all day, but she still had no idea where to start. How do you even begin a letter like this? ‘Hi, Gale’? ‘Dear Gale,’? ‘Esteemed Professor Dekarios,’? If the greeting was this difficult, how would she even move on to the rest of the letter? She knew for damn sure that she wasn’t quite ready to be fully emotionally vulnerable, especially with him (even though he’s the only one she should ideally be emotionally vulnerable with…).

‘Welp, might as well just start,’ she said to herself as she sighed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hi Gale,  [in the top right hand corner was a little swirly doodle with some flowers and leaves. Next to it was written ‘I don’t have fancy paper, so I tried to do something cute?]

I’m having trouble starting this letter, so I figured maybe just admitting that is as good of a place as any. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what you want to hear, I don’t know what will help or what will just hurt… Here’s what I do know:

-          I’m sorry. [there are tear stains on the paper here]

-          There’s no excuse for what I did.

-          I don’t even know if I know the reason for what I did.

-          I don’t feel like I deserve your patience, your forgiveness, your mercy, anything, really. Your anger is totally justifiable.

-          I don’t know who I was that night or in the months following.

Except, I do. I’d reverted back to the person abomination I walked away from. The hateful, murderous, evil, wretched thing I said I’d never be again. Yet, I can’t claim that I wasn’t in my right mind at the time either. I never lost consciousness. I was aware of the decisions I was making. I just don’t understand why I made them in the first place, other than I’d lost hope. I’d stopped trusting you. I’d assumed you were going to leave me and go back to Mystra or pursue godhood where you’d no longer be…you. [Next to this is a small sketch of a broken heart.]

Here's what else I know:

-          You didn’t deserve that.

-          I don’t deserve you.

[Below this was another item that was heavily crossed out, but you can make out the words ‘I still’.]

(this letter is a mess, I’m sorry. I’m just…flustered)

[On the right side of the paper, there was a list of four items outlined in a rectangle, above which was written ‘Good things’ – a question mark had followed this, but it was crossed out with an X. The four items are:]

-          I took a shower today.

-          I cleaned my house for the first time in weeks today.

-          I’m going to stop drinking for a while.

-          I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed.

It’s not ‘the letter of a lifetime,’ but it’s a start. I hope you’re well and that your students aren’t giving you too much of a hassle. Can’t be as bad as slaying a whole camp of goblins, right? [Here there was a small doodle of a goblin head, X’s for eyes and tongue sticking out, laying in a pool of blood next to a sword.]

I look forward to hearing from you. Take care of yourself, please.

-Tav

P.S. I’m working on my handwriting. I’m sorry if any of this is illegible. Not really a subject that was covered in “Bhaalspawn University.”

[At the bottom of the letter was drawn a curvy vine with leaves, flowers, and flower buds.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gale swallowed thickly as he held the letter in his trembling hands.

‘She did it. She actually wrote, and it wasn’t full of anger and insults. It was a real, honest-to-the-gods attempt at talking.’

His eyes shimmered as he re-read two lines over and over again:

-          You didn’t deserve that.

-          I don’t deserve you.

His heart ached as he pondered the fact that she thought so little of herself. It made him remember his inner monologue after the debacle with Mystra and the orb. All Gale told himself for a year was that he’d made mistakes so huge that no one should have to ever bear the burden of his presence again. Anyone who showed any affection towards him, platonic or otherwise, was a fool who was wasting their time. They’d just end up being let down by this depressed shadow of a former Archmage. Knowing that Tav was the one now who truly felt she wasn’t deserving of forgiveness or mercy brought tears to his eyes.

He felt a bit lighter, however, at the implication that she even cared whether or not she was worthy of him. Not only cared, but was taking bolder steps forward. She’d apologized, she’d wished him well, she’s taking care of herself… Then it dawned on him that she’d gotten so low that a task as mundane as taking a shower was to be celebrated on a list of positive things.

Oh, did he remember that pit of despair well. He’d spent a year down at the bottom of it. Cut off from all outside contact, forgetting (or refusing) to eat, going days, even a week or more without bathing because he didn’t have anyone to see anyway. No point in expending the energy.

Now, however, Gale was at least teaching. That had kept him going. Even if he didn’t interact with many people outside of Blackstaff Academy, he was still getting dressed, going to a place with other people, and teaching Faerûn’s youth to harness and control the Weave.

But what of Tav? How often was she seeing others? It seems she had relocated after all. The return address is listed in Daggerford, a town not far south of Waterdeep full of retired adventurers, artisans, craftsmen, and farmers. A relatively quiet place compared to Baldur’s Gate, but still a city with plenty of opportunities. (And only a three-, maybe four-day travel from Gale. That would explain how easily she ended up in Waterdeep in the marketplace on that cold, rainy day…).

He remembered her telling everyone how much of a hero she’d been at the reunion party. What happened to her adventuring? Would she even be home enough for their letter-writing to be consistent? She’d made no mention of her activities, that was something he’d want to follow up on. As much as it would have previously brought him satisfaction to see her put in her place for everything she’d said, cut off from others and alone, now it just caused an ache in his chest.

The threads of his bitterness and rage had already begun unraveling. He’d been letting the truth sink in since the reunion: Tav had acted reckless and lashed out because she was scared. Scared of losing him. The thought of him abandoning her for Mystra or for godhood drove her to seek pleasure in someone else. Yet he hadn’t bothered to get to the root of the problem at the time. All he knew was that he had his heart broken. He had been betrayed. He had been ‘abandoned.’

He sighed heavily as the pangs of grief and remorse started to take hold. What a fool he’d been. A self-centered, arrogant, quick-tempered fool. But he shook those thoughts out of his head. This wasn’t the time to keep dwelling on what he had or hadn’t done in the past. Where the ball of anger had resided in his chest, just as roiling and hungry as the Netherese orb had been, he felt the tension had begun to break apart. There was still much healing to do, but now there was a little room for the patience and understanding he’d wished he’d displayed before.

He re-read the letter again, chuckling lightly at her doodles and scratches. Her handwriting had much improved, she gave herself too little credit. It was good to see she still had her silly sense of humor as well. She hadn’t been completely robbed of her beautiful qualities.

Draining the last sip of wine in his cup, he arose from his spot on the balcony and walked inside to sit at his desk. One thing nagged at him before he could start writing his response, though. Underneath the bottom list where she said she didn’t deserve him, she’d written something and then furiously scratched it out. He thought he might know what it said, but didn’t want to get carried away if he was wrong. Holding the letter carefully in front of the lit candle on his desk, he stared at the scratches, trying to piece together the words underneath. His breath caught when his eyes brought them together:

‘I still’

I still… Still what? I still hear the voice of the Dark Urge? I still won’t forgive you?

No. Given the context of what was said and the direction they were going, it had to mean only one thing. He would only allow himself to think it was one thing.

‘I still love you.’

Hoping with everything he had that it was true, he took another deep breath and pulled out a scroll from his desk drawer. It was his turn now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dear Tav, [In small writing to the right of the greeting, it says (my ‘fancy paper’ is at the academy) with a winking face doodle.]

Sometimes I think I’d prefer a good goblin massacre to a room full of hormonal teenage wizards learning to control a firebolt spell, but each day is a new adventure, after all! [After this sentence, Gale had doodled a flame, his head/hair with wisps of smoke, and in small writing with an arrow pointing to the drawings, (I tried).]

Thank you for your thoughts, and especially for your apology. I can’t in good conscience say that everything is forgotten, but I fully believe we are on the right path forward.

I would also like to apologize, because you deserve it. You are so much more deserving than you think you are of kindness, understanding and, yes, when I am able, forgiveness. I understand, likely better than anyone else you might know, how strongly self-loathing can take hold.

Which is why I want to tell you that I’m proud of you. I don’t know what you’ve been up to in recent months. I heard you telling the others about some adventuring opportunities, but I gather from your letter that self-care had gone by the wayside. I’m proud and happy to hear that you’re starting to focus on yourself. Yes, I agree with you: showering, cleaning, limiting alcohol intake, and even being tired enough to go to bed are all good things. I hope you continue being kind to yourself.

Admittedly, I’d fallen into a similar rut. While I get plenty of social interaction at the academy, my extra-curricular life has been…non-existent. I come home to my tower, I usually remember to eat, I grade papers, stay up entirely too late researching, and then attempt to get enough sleep to repeat that schedule ad nauseum. The cleanliness of my home, and myself, had been sorely neglected. But as you are focusing on self-improvement, I shall endeavor to do likewise.

Speaking of self-improvement, that’s where the letter-writing idea came from. Rather, through Tara’s efforts to help me during my year of isolation. She’d suggested I do some journalling to write out my thoughts and emotions regarding Mystra. Not only to get them to stop rolling around in my head, but to be able to articulate them. It did help, quite immeasurably, in fact. That’s why I’m so thankful you’ve agreed to this in the first place. I feel like it will serve us well. [A filled-in purple heart was drawn here.]

Actually, I can’t tell you how many letters I started writing to you in the last six months. I really did try. It just always felt…wrong, somehow. Like it wasn’t the right time, or my words weren’t sincere, or they’d fall on deaf ears. But I’m so glad we’re ‘talking’ now. I’ve missed you, Tav… [A filled-in but broken purple heart was drawn here.]

Tell me what you’ve been up to! Tell me your thoughts. Tell me any and everything you want to. I’ll be waiting to take it all in.

Yours,

Gale

[To the left on the bottom, Gale had drawn an open book with an ink pot and a quill. In the middle on the bottom, Tara had been drawn, wings outstretched, lying down, eyes closed, with a small note: (Tara’s sleeping on my desk and she’s adorable!). On the right under his signature, Gale drew a wand with sparkling stars and a curved line of weave making a flourish.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dear Gale – [Here, she had drawn a wand with stars similar to the one he’d put by his name in his letter]

Thank you for saying that you’ve wanted to talk this whole time. That makes me feel so much better. I never put quill to parchment, but I started countless letters in my head. Like you said, it just never felt right. [After this, Tav drew a scroll, an ink pot, and a quill.]

This does feel like the right path at the right time, but to be honest, Gale…I’m scared. I’m scared to put everything on the table again. With how much I got we got hurt last time we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable with each other, I can’t go through that again. Nor do I want you to go through it again. [Tav had drawn two filled in broken hearts after this paragraph.]

It humbles me to think you feel I’m deserving of good things. Truly. I don’t feel like I am, so I suppose it’s good that someone in this world does. Your encouragement in taking care of myself is unexpected, but ultimately not surprising. That’s just who you are. I’m thankful to hear that you’re taking it upon yourself to improve as well. [Here, Tav had drawn some grapes and cheese on a plate, and to the right of it, a broom and dust pan.]

I fully understand, however, that you can’t forgive me, at least not yet. (I wouldn’t forgive me either.) Hopefully I can begin to earn it over time. I’m not going to sit here and defend my actions with trying to find solace in Mizora’s…experience. It wasn’t even fulfilling, if it makes you feel any better. (It won’t, I know you). It was just tricks of the mind and a devil’s words of promises for things I didn’t even desire. (Perhaps the ‘old me’ would have.) I regretted it immediately, yet it has marked me forever.

But I know that how it left me afterwards is not the point. The point is why I let myself go along with it in the first place. I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last months, especially since the reunion. Let me preface this by saying that I am not shifting the blame. I still made the decision to give in. However, after days and weeks of your near-obsession with the Crown of Karsus, I could see that look in your eyes. You couldn’t stop thinking about the power it could offer. Power that we know all too well would only corrupt you and change you. Then, your meeting with Mystra, introducing her back into your life with her deal to get rid of the orb for the crown… I could feel you slipping away from me.

[On the left side by the words Crown of Karsus, Tav had drawn the crown with a big ‘X’ through it. Near where Mystra is mentioned, she drew a scared ‘Mystra,’ identified as ‘witch bitch,’ being threatened by Tav with a dagger.’]

What I should have done was keep talking to you, seeking reassurance. I should have spat in Mizora’s face and told her to get the fuck out. [In this area, Tav drew herself spitting in Mizora’s face.] I should have sought solace in your embrace, in your words, in your love… But one thing I need you to understand: I was brought up my whole life to be let down. Every success came with a defeat. Every win came with a loss. Every gift came with a sacrifice. You were the most important gift I will ever have in this world or the next. I was positive I was going to lose it, so…I don’t know. I think maybe I wanted to push it from myself first before it was taken outside of my control? Mizora approaching me with her “offer”… She knew exactly what she was doing: giving me an “out” that she knew I would take because I was at my most vulnerable.

For all my accolades being a “Hero of Baldur’s Gate” and savior to many, I clearly didn’t have the strength to stand up to her temptations. I let her use the fact that I have major trust issues to weasel her way into my deepest fears and exploit them. I didn’t have a chance. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but I hope it at least explains them.

I’m running out of parchment. You asked what I’ve been up to. If it’s of any comfort, things are going well enough. I’m eating mostly regularly, I’m keeping up with the chores, and I’m even starting to finally organize some garden space in the yard. I’m trying to spend some time outside every day, and I’ve replaced the wine with various teas. They’re small steps, but they’re steps.

I don’t know if I’ve gotten us closer to any kind of resolution, but hopefully my words can fill in some of the gaps. I look forward to hearing your response.

Thank you, by the way, for giving me something to look forward to again.

I’ve missed you too. Very much so.

Humbly yours,

Tav

[At the bottom left of the page, she drew a cup of tea]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dearest Tav, [to the right of the greeting, it says in smaller writing (I apologize for the condition of this letter. It was rather difficult to write.) The letter is littered with smudges where tears had fallen and letter had been re-written over them.]

As I wrote my last letter and have been pondering your response, it weighs on me just how grave a mistake I also made. The blame for our downfall does not fully rest with you. (Let me finish…)

Feeling like you’re not worthy, like you made too big of a mistake to recover from; you know how familiar I am with those thoughts. Looking back, this means I should have been the one who was there for you the most. Yet I wasn’t. I was the furthest one away.

I agree with you that my anger was justified. I’d felt like I’d been told I wasn’t enough for you, which is exactly what I feared from the beginning. In my mind, you had openly told the entire world that Gale Dekarios, fallen Archmage of Waterdeep, scorned by Mystra herself, could not, in fact, make you or anyone else happy. You had to go find your pleasure elsewhere.

Where my mistake lies is in never stopping to think how much you had to have been hurting in order to find solace in Mizora in the first place. I don’t think I even gave you the chance to confirm you hadn’t been possessed, quite frankly. It’s no wonder your defenses went up immediately. My reaction, while potentially understandable, was absolutely awful.

I am so sorry that I never gave you a chance to talk things through before letting my hurt and rage take over. What I should have done was walk away and screamed into the void instead of at you before hearing any kind of explanation. I suppose I figured there would never be one good enough. Never did I think until recently that I could have possibly had something to do with you feeling pushed in that direction. I should have been more reassuring. I should have given you no reason to doubt my love for you and my dedication to you.

The possibilities that came with the crown had taken over my waking thoughts, and even infiltrated my dreams. Providing an eternal life without conflicts for both you and I sounded like the perfect solution, and I became hyper-focused. You had tried telling me that you were scared, that you didn’t want me to lose my humanity. I just still thought I was smarter and had this whole grand plan all figured out and you would realize it eventually.

[Before the next paragraph is drawn an infinity symbol, a heart nestled into the loops on either side.]

But I didn’t do enough to put your mind at ease. I didn’t help you understand that I wouldn’t have actually left had it come down to choosing between you and the crown. I never, never would have left you, Tav. As I shouted rather rudely before, I only ever truly wanted you. I assumed you knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, so I didn’t spend any time reinforcing it. I let my focus drift too far. Then, I left you scared and alone afterwards with no chance to explain. I, the ex-Chosen and ex-lover of a goddess, from whom he should have learned humility after his hubris, the man to whom you showed so much kindness and understanding and support when anyone else would have run in the other direction, I couldn’t even show a fraction of that back to you.

Taviela, my heart, I am so, so incredibly sorry that I wasn’t there for you. When you pulled me from that portal and later heard my harrowing tale of foolishness and desperation, you stood by me. You took care of me and encouraged me, and I threw that back in your face at the first opportunity. It will be a long time before I can forgive myself for that. But I humbly, honestly, and hopefully ask if you could ever forgive me. I understand if you cannot, but know that I will spend the rest of my life proving myself to you.

Please keep telling me your thoughts, Tav. I want to hear them. I need to hear them.

Repentantly yours,

Gale

P.S. I’m far too emotional at the moment to do many little doodles, but yours warm my heart. Please keep doing them. [A filled in heart was drawn here. He had also drawn a simple version of the wand and stars under his name.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My Dearest Gale, [Across the top of the page was a wand, a wavy line of weave, and small stars.]

I’ve been staring at this parchment for at least an hour, but I haven’t been able to write anything until now. I’m sobbing at your words. Your insight about everything I put you through, the weight of what happened after all your hurts and insecurities from Mystra and the orb, the fear of being inadequate to me… That weight is almost too much to bear. I’ve berated myself for months now for hurting you, but the full impact never hit me until I read it in your words. I want to fall on my knees and cry at your feet and beg for mercy. But how could you possibly ever forgive me? I’m sorrier than you will ever know for allowing you causing you to feel that way again.

Also, to think that you are taking any of this upon yourself so strongly, I really don’t know what to say about that either. I still feel like this is all due to my deficiencies. My weaknesses. My fuck-ups. But I can understand where you’re coming from, wanting to take some responsibility. All I’ll say is that there is nothing to forgive anymore. I hold no more ill will towards you. We both acted like children throwing tantrums, but we were each already pushed to our limits and didn’t stop to think about, well, anything, really.  [Tav had drawn 5 filled in hearts here, along with writing (I don’t know what else to doodle here because I’m also emotional).]

It feels cheap to keep coming back to my upbringing, but it’s an unfortunate reality where I’m concerned. Everything was always a bitter fight of either words or daggers. There was no real “communication” to speak of. There were no “feelings” shared. It was all cruel lessons with harsh punishments. ‘Be a bitch, or get walked over’ was something I told myself a lot. I never truly learned to stop and step back and give things time to breathe. Putting myself in another person’s shoes is something I’ve forced myself to learn, especially during our adventures.

I have a confession to make. When I (literally) ran into you in Waterdeep a few months ago, it wasn’t just happenstance. I’d come there with a purpose. The downward spiral had begun weeks prior and I was nearing rock bottom. I came to look for you. To see if you were possibly even half as miserable as I was without you. I was certain you would be, and that it would give me a reason to approach you. We would be on common ground and might actually be able to talk. [On the right side of the page, Tav had drawn an open book sitting in a puddle of water in the rain. On the pages of the book it said ‘I’m sorry about the books.’]

But then I saw you. You were in the marketplace, smiling, making small talk with the merchants, even laughing with them. You looked full of life. You looked like you were doing just fine – without me. My heart dropped into my shoes and I’d considered just walking away, never letting you see I was even there. But something in me snapped. I apparently just had to get in a couple more digs before I walked away forever. That was childish and unacceptable and I’m sorry I put you in that position. (I don’t blame you one bit for the Hold Person spell, for the record. I deserved it.) [Tav had drawn the symbol for the Hold Person spell here, along with Tav approves.]

Please forgive me, but I’m emotionally spent. I think I’ll wrap this up to send in the morning, go sit on the back porch with a cup of tea, and just think for a while.

Still yours,

Tav

[Along the left side of the bottom of the page, Tav drew a small flower garden. On the right side, a cup of tea.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My Darling Taviela, [On the right side of the top of the page was carefully drawn an eternity symbol. Inside each side was a heart – a G written in the one on the left, a T written in the one on the right. Next to it, Gale wrote:] (I’ve been doodling this a lot lately.)

My heart aches for you, for us both. You’re right. There’s nothing to forgive anymore. We were both stretched so far beyond our limits, no wonder we broke down. We both have acted out of turn, we both have put ourselves through the wringer, and we both built impossibly high walls around ourselves. I’m happy to say that I believe we can push those walls down now. I want to move forward in whatever way we can, even if that ends up being as friends (though judging by your comments, it doesn’t sound like that will be the case, but please correct me if I’m reading the situation incorrectly).

I have a confession for you, in light of your revelations regarding our “run-in” in the marketplace. It was all an act to save face out in public. The laughter, the ‘life’ you say you saw in me, the light-hearted interactions – they were all a façade. I was miserable without you, however angry I was. After that interaction, it got even worse. I felt awful immediately, leaving you standing there shivering in the rain. [Gale had drawn a hand getting smacked by a ruler with words in a bubble outlined in sharp angles: BAD WIZARD!] I couldn’t believe that, even though there was some provocation, that I’d still reverted to such a childish response. I sank further into my depressive state. I almost didn’t come to the reunion with our companions either, actually. It felt like more of an effort to get myself put together than I was capable of. Fortunately, Tara snapped me out of it.

Speaking of Tara, I’ve been working on getting her to be more understanding. I’m sure you have noticed that her protectiveness of me overrides any kind of empathetic nature towards anyone who has caused me even a lick of hurt. But she’s come a long way in understanding both sides of our…predicament. I’ll keep at it, for both of our sakes. [A trail of small paw prints was drawn after this.]

I’m pleased to say that I’ve been keeping up with the cleaning, [on the right side of the page, Gale doodled a robed hand holding a sparking wand next to two balls of dust that look like rabbits. Underneath was written, (dust bunnies).] I feel like I finally have a handle on my students and my lesson-planning, and I’ve found joy in cooking meals again. Too much time is being spent grading sub-par assignments in the evenings, I’ll admit, but it comes with the territory. My heart has been all the lighter in the last couple of weeks, and it’s all thanks to you: your words, your patience, and willingness to work on…well, us.

What have you been up to lately? Any more adventuring opportunities coming your way? Are you doing any traveling? I wonder if there’s any chance our paths might cross in the near future.

I’ll admit, my mind has been wandering to thoughts of seeing you again. I miss the warmth of your embrace, the sparkle in your smile, the feeling of home when I look into your eyes – I feel like a part of me has been missing since our falling out.

I was actually thinking… What would you say to coming back to Waterdeep for a proper visit?

Take care of yourself, my darling [a filled-in heart was drawn here]

Gale (no fancy drawing in my name this time. Just me, missing you.) [above this, Gale had drawn a side profile of himself from the chest up, looking down, eyes closed, a tear falling from his eye.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The letters had been going back and forth at a regular, weekly pace. It was about six weeks after the reunion, which already seemed like forever ago. They had come so far, and his words made her realize that she missed him more than she knew was possible.

However, when Tav saw the last question in Gale’s letter, she froze. Her chest tightened and her breath quickened. She got dizzy, her hands shook, and her mind raced, tears threatening to overflow onto her cheeks. She was having a panic attack.

She threw the letter in her top desk drawer, slammed it shut, ran down the hall, and pulled the lever for her shower without bothering to warm the water first. Fully clothed, she stood underneath the cold deluge until her breathing slowed and she could process her thoughts.

The nausea was back. She sat on the floor on a towel and just let the water drip off her. Tucking her knees up to her chin, she stared at the wall and focused on her breathing. She wanted nothing more than for Gale to walk in the room right now, pick her up, and hold her in his lap, caressing her hair and whispering comforting words to her until she felt better. But as much as she wanted to feel his arms around her, to smell his scent, to run her fingers through his hair and more, she was absolutely terrified.

All she could think of as she started rocking back and forth was that she was going to end up hurting him again. She cried and cried until she resigned herself to lying down on the floor and crying herself to sleep, shivering in her damp clothes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week went by and there was no response from Tav. Gale tried to brush it off, attempting to convince himself that perhaps she had gotten a chance to do some traveling, and was running behind sending her letter.

Nine days went by and his resolve started to falter. He replayed every word in his head that he’d written in his last letter. Was he moving ahead too fast? Did he assume too much? Did he push her too far? He ached to see her, to hear her voice, and to comfort her. But he could NOT let himself fuck things up again…

On the tenth day, he sent just a short message in hurried writing, requested for the utmost urgent delivery.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tav,

I’m truly, deeply sorry if I’m pushing you too far. You don’t have to answer the last question. We can continue just writing if that’s what makes you comfortable. I’ll do whatever you need, but I cannot, I will not lose you again.

Please, talk to me, my love.

Gale [A filled in heart was drawn after his name.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sleep never found him that night. He let his brain run through every worst-case scenario it could come up with. Tears were still crawling down his face every so often as he saw the faintest colors of the dawn coming to greet the eleventh day. Thank the gods he had the next couple of days off for Midsummer…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the afternoon of the twelfth day, Tav’s response arrived. Gale didn’t even go back inside or shut the door. He ripped open the envelope and tried to steady his breathing as his shaky hands held her letter. He let himself take a deep breath and fall back against his door frame as he read:

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My precious Gale,

I am so very sorry for the delayed response and for making you worry. I don’t know what came over me, but when I saw you asking to see each other again…I panicked. I had a full-on panic attack, after which, I slept for days. I lost all track of what day it was or how much time had gone by. I kept picking up my quill and the words just wouldn’t come. I’m so sorry. Your words in the message I received today snapped me back out of it. Thank you for checking on me. [A filled-in heart was drawn here.]

Gale, I can’t bear the thought of hurting you again. I’m not saying that I don’t want to see you. Believe me, nothing would make me happier. My dreams of getting to be near you, to hold you again, to be held by you, they are my greatest source of comfort. But we haven’t spent any time together in person since the reunion, and we spent months before that acting like completely different people.

What if we can’t change, Gale? What if seeing each other brings out all the anger and spite again? I can’t forgive myself, even if you have. I don’t know what to say – I can’t lose you again either, I won’t survive it. And I fear that I will become upset by something and fall back into my old ways of dealing with arguments: with juvenile pettiness and venomous words. I’m so scared…

In fact, I’m going to deflect now so I don’t dissolve into another panic attack.

To answer your other questions – honestly, adventuring hasn’t happened in a while. I was being truthful at the reunion when I said I’d been adventuring and helping people. But coming back from Waterdeep is when I started to shut everyone out. My house descended into chaotic messes that I didn’t have the energy to clean, I stopped eating regularly, I was drinking at least a bottle of wine a day, and I slept all the time. I have enough money set aside that I can get away with not working for quite a while, but that won’t last forever.

The gardening is going well now though! I haven’t killed so much as a tomato plant! I’m growing flowers and selling bundles here and there. I’m also growing my own vegetables and some fruits, though I haven’t begun selling those yet. I’m getting the itch to start baking, however… I’ve found a great deal of fulfillment in creating (growing) some kind of life now instead of dwelling on the memories of taking it. [Along the left side of the page, she drew a tomato plant crawling up the side. Along the right, she drew a plate of danishes and a cup of tea.]

I’m so sorry again for worrying you. I just froze because I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll get this sent to you as quickly as I can, but please tell me your thoughts. I’m hoping your insight can be of some comfort.

With all my heart,

Your Tav

[At the bottom of the letter, Tav drew the same symbol Gale had been doodling on everything he could: the eternity symbol with the hearts in the middle, one with a G, one with a T. Next to it, she wrote:] (I tried… Yours looks much nicer.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My sweet Taviela, [Their infinity symbol with hearts and their initials was on the top right.]

Thank you for explaining the reason for the delay. I completely understand, and I’m sorry to have caused you to panic. If I may offer some encouragement, however, perhaps I can help quiet your heart.

Neither of us are under anywhere near the amount of pressure and stress that we were at the time back in Baldur’s Gate. We are taking care of ourselves now as individuals, fully independent of others, and neither is a crutch for the other. This bodes well for quelling any fears of being too dependent on each other for our own good.

We’ve seen what damage can be done by careless words and actions, and we’ve walked back from that ledge – together. Now we’ll be more aware of the warning signs should we become frustrated with each other again. We’ve talked about what we can do to avoid arguments in the future, like walking away for a breather, should we need to. Lest you have any unrealistic expectations, please remember that we will become frustrated with each other and we will likely have some arguments. That’s only natural for any two beings that have a close relationship. But we have some experience now and wisdom gained. I truly believe that we can be better for each other. We can change. Together. [A filled in heart is drawn here along the left side of the page.]

If you are comfortable thinking about the possibility of visiting, I have a proposition for you. Some simple guidelines that will help keep us in check as we try spending time together again, under completely different circumstances.

-          I will get you set up in a lovely room at The Yawning Portal for one week. The bartender owes me a favor for clearing out some riffraff a few weeks ago. Then you can have a place you feel comfortable retreating to without feeling trapped in my tower, should you wish to get some space.

-          So as to not put too much pressure on either of us too quickly, we can have a date each day, but we don’t spend the entire day together (at least not every day). It may be midsummer, but I still have regular responsibilities with the academy that I need to see to. Besides, that will give us time to individually reflect on our time together and how we’re feeling.

-          At the end of the week, we can talk about how things have gone and what direction we should go at that point. We won’t pressure each other, and we’ll agree that we won’t be disappointed if one person needs more time than the other. Above all, we need to make sure our friendship stays in tact.

So, what do you say? Look! I even got Tara’s stamp of approval! [On the side of the page is an ink pawprint.] (Do you have any idea how much convincing it took to get her to put her paw in ink? I owe her tuna for weeks…)

I won’t pressure you, but if you’re amenable to this plan, we can do this as soon as you’d like – even next week. Having said all that, if you still want to take things slower and keep writing letters for now, I will fully support that decision and be delighted to keep doing so.

If you will allow me, however, I would like to make one last plea: I want to see you, Taviela. I need to see you. My heart aches for you and my arms feel so painfully empty without you in them. I long to curl my fingers into your hair, to hear your contended sighs, to be lit up inside by your laughter, and, when you’re ready, to make love to you and cover you in affectionate, healing kisses until every hurtful word we’ve ever exchanged is erased from memory itself.

I know you’re scared, my darling. But I believe in us. I believe things will be different this time around. I hope and pray to every god and goddess who will listen that you can find it in your heart to take the risk.

Come here to me, my love, and we can keep walking our way forward - together. [A filled in heart is drawn here.]

I eagerly await your reply, whatever it may be.

Yours always,

Gale [A doodle of a wand surrounded by stars is by his name.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tav’s hands trembled. Gods, she missed him so much it physically hurt. Especially now that she knew how much he was missing her as well. Sitting at her desk, she re-read his last full paragraph with tears flooding her vision and heart filling her chest, not to mention a familiar heat between her thighs. She knew at that moment that her desire and her renewed trust in Gale Dekarios FINALLY outweighed her fears. She didn’t even need to think about her response. It was short and sweet:   

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gale, my love, [Their eternity/hearts/initials symbol was drawn on the top right.]

I’ll set out tomorrow by horse from Daggerford and will arrive at the Yawning Portal on Sunday evening around dinner time. I sincerely hope your arms will be waiting for me, because I’ll be rushing into them the moment I see you. [A filled-in heart was drawn in.]

Just don’t be holding a stack of books this time… [ Tav had drawn a doodle of a winking face here.]

Yours always,

Tav

P.S. I doubt we’ll be waiting long for those healing kisses… I know we’re going to space out our time together, but stay with me the first night? Help me “settle in” to Waterdeep? [Tav sketched a set of lip prints in the bottom right.]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tears fell from Gale’s eyes, but happy ones this time. He could tell his cheeks were flushed too from her “P.S.”… He laughed at her jab about the books, then folded up the letter and brought it to his lips, kissing the edge she would have folded with her soft hands.

He had planning to do. 

[puppysirie0-0]

Can I request an angst Aleksander Morozova fix where is wife just head there son and it was a really hard birth and all he can remember is her scream and cry while clutching his hand. She’s asleep and the baby wakes up, at first Aleksander is a bit apprehensive to hold him but doesn’t want his wife to wake up. So he hold the baby and when he sees that the baby has Y/n’s eyes he just falls in love. Sorry if this was long. Hopping you have a wonderful day ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Husband!Aleksander Morozova x Wife!Reader

Warnings: There is none, it just a BIG OL' FLUFFY FLUFFY BEAR

When Aleks heard about the baby he was scared but also delighted. He knew exactly what NOT to do, but he didn't know what TO do. And not to mention the state of the world. It was no place to raise a child. But nontheless, he was elated to be starting a family with you, his wife.

Aleksander was by your side when your water broke. He stayed by your side as you were in labor. He watched you cry and scream. Listened as you yelled bloody murder for your child to come into the world. He wiped your tears and swiped the sweat off your forehead. Held your hand as you squeezed it so hard it felt it would fall off from the lack of circulation.

Once the baby was delivered he almost felt disappointment. His wife had been in pain and not only could he not help her but he was part of the cause.

You pass out after the baby was cleaned and fed. You held your daughter in your arms but Aleks was yet to. But the baby starts wailing right after you fell asleep and Aleksander knew he could at least help with this.

He walked over to the cradle and held out his hand. He was trying to muster the nerve to go up and lift the baby. You had already decided a name, Luna. He walked over and created shadows to amuse the child, but she just continued crying.

He picks her up, just like the nurses had. Dealing special attention to her head and trying his best to support her. He looks down at her as she stops crying. He had nothing but a loose tunic on, having abandoned his kefta and other layers while you were in labor. The baby is flush against he exposed chest as he holds her.

He continues to stare down at her before he notices her eyes. She had the same eyes as you, a light grey. He had poured pools upon pools of love into eyes just like those and this time was no different. As soon he saw the familiar eyes on Luna's cherub face, his heart had melted.

You woke up in the morning to see Aleks napping with Luna on his chest. Luna laid there in the silence of the early morning to see your husband. You admired the two, your two favorite beings in the same room as you. You were exhausted but you were happy. You were irrecoverably and irreversibly happy. No one would take this from you, No one at all.

∾ ▩ °º❤️º°  ▩ ∾

A/N

Thank you so much for the ask, I absolutely loved writing this! Have a great evening to anyone still awake, and amazing day to anyone getting up. Again, my inbox and messages are always open if you want to send in a request or just talk. Love y'all, mwah!

[mylittleredgirl]

the fluff fic fest is back!

i have a lot to atone for given how many thousands of words of angst i wrote last year leading up to a single fluffy scene, so i'm both taking another crack at it and spreading the word!

dreamwidth community with all the details: fluffityfluffexchange.dreamwidth.org

typical fic exchange requirements of 1000 word minimum fic or original art on unlined paper. they take a broad view of fluff, including angstifluff and smut tropes.

nominations are open now!! (a great part of this exchange is that nominations will continue to be open through sign-ups, but i learned last year it's good to seed the ground early so more people will use your pairings & tags...)

sign-ups: march 26-april 2

assignments due: may 26

works revealed: may 31

creators revealed: june 7

tagset for nominations: here!!

refer to the community for all instructions, but short version is: you can use / and & relationships, and instead of using the canon relationship tags, you add a (fandom or abbreviation) disambiguation at the end of each one -- e.g. fox mulder/dana scully (xf) or margaret houlihan & hawkeye pierce (mash tv).

additional tags: nominate specific or vague tropes you'd like to see! (e.g. "character a thinks something bad happened to character b but actually they were just picking up mcdonalds" or "hurt/comfort fluff")

edit: i am NOT the creator or mod of this event!! check out the dreamwidth for the mod info ☺️

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

@salzrand - my pen slipped 😂❤️

[ch0co-ch1ps]

so.. I randomly thought of a Drabble since I legit have no readers so <;/3 yeah.

Just thinking about.. Dad!Kuroo who would spoil his two year old daughter with stuffed animals..

Dad!Kuroo who loves his daughter so much, when she was born. He cried nonstop at the hospital.. the water works keep comin’..

Dad!Kuroo who shares memories with his daughter, using a memory book? i legitimately do not have a clue what they’re called.. (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ and a year book; both the parents.

[honeysucklepink]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff, Klaine Valentines Challenge Summary:

From sunrise to midnight, read Kurt and Blaine's first Valentine's Day as husbands through Blaine's eyes.

[marquisguyun]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū & Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū Characters: Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū, Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū Additional Tags: Sharing a Bed, Fluff, Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū and Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū are Not the Same Person, Platonic Cuddling, Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū & Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū are Siblings Summary:

While visiting his brother in the Bamboo House, Shen Yuan doesn't want to walk home in the rain.

[hopepaigeturner]

🎄 Giftmas Day 2: Handmade Gifts

The first Christmas for the Crane family, where old and new traditions meet.

OR

Eloise and the kids' first christmas. Tooth rotting fluff.

*~*~*~*

“Merry Christmas,” Eloise whispered.

“With you it is,” Phillip whispered back, his arm pulled her into him and she curled, taking solace in the heat of his naked body and his soft smile.

Over the years and ballrooms, many gentlemen had smiled at her—or more precisely they smirked, or titled their lips with suave and arrogance. Phillip never did so.

“I do not think even my presence can transform something as special as Christmas.”

“Oh, my darling,” his callused hand tilted her chin up, “you transform everything.”

No other gentlemen had ever kissed her, but she knew they would not feel as good as Phillip’s kisses. The first one was always soft, drawing sweetness from her very roots when all her life she had been told she was as coarse as summer soil. The second was always a little more heated as she started to participate, their hands curling around each other. The third, a tipping point, a lazy tangle of tongues that, in the moments she lost, no longer felt like a surrender but an acquiesce.

Phillip rolled over, hand skimming from her waist to her bottom,

“Merry, merry, Christmas indeed,” he gravelled into her mouth, nipping her lip. Eloise gasped and chased his lips back, kissing with a ferocity that made him moan.

“I feel we should make some new traditions,” Eloise whispered.

“Why Lady—"

“Father!”

Suddenly the doors burst open.

Phillip cursed and rolled away from Eloise to face their children.

“What are you doing here?” he cried, and Eloise knew it was not anger that flushed his cheeks.

Their bright smiles drained away.

“We wanted to surprise you…” Oliver said, ever so quietly, “Eloise told me that…that…she used to climb into bed with her mummy and daddy…”

“Oh,” Eloise put her hand over her mouth and turned to Phillip. “We did. It was the only day we were allowed into their bedchambers—unless we had nightmares. We would choose one present to open,” her voice softened as it walked through golden memories, “Eventually all eight of us would be there, although the elder ones typically allowed the younger to come into bed. It was a tradition.”

“We brought presents as well.” Amanda held up, “one for you father and one for Eloise.”

Philip did not speak, and Eloise waited.

Philip had improved in leaps and bounds from the hesitant father she had first met, always making time in the day for his children. But Eloise knew that it took time to undo habits…years rather than months.

Philip sat up and patted the bedsheets.

“Come on then, hop up.”

Oliver and Amanda squealed with delight and scrabbled up the bed, launching themselves onto their father. Philip laughed, his booming laugh that always filled a room with its emotion. However…

“I want to sit next to father.”

“No, I want to.”

“But I—”

“Your father can sit in the middle with each of you on either side.”

The twins huffed but, as usual, they obeyed and soon all four of them were squished together in a huddle, arms overlapping.

“Now, what are these wonderful presents you have brought?”

The twins lit up again and handed one haphazardly wrapped present to Eloise and one to Philip.

“Open them together!”

Quickly they tore off the wrapping paper and Philip hooted.

“This is brilliant.” He held up two little snowmen with twigs for arms and seed-covered lard for their bodies.

The twins preened under his praise.

“Mrs Austen said we could give it to the birds.”

“We could hang it outside your greenhouse.”

“Then you could have lots of birds to keep you company.”

“That would…” Philip swallowed thickly, only years of supressing his emotions enabled him to keep his tears at bay. “Thank you.” He kissed both their heads. “Darling, what…”

Eloise had not moved since opening her present, a present laid gently down on her lap.

It was a painting. A painting of a night sky with stars, trees and snowflakes made from potato prints. Then four little figures; the tall one being Philip, the one with frizzy hair being Amanda, the one with a little paintbrush in his hand was Oliver, and then there was Eloise. Eloise whose little blob of a hand held Philip’s hand. Beneath Amanda had written, in the loopy handwriting her governess always chastised her for: The Crane Family 1824. Amanda, Oliver, Father and Mama Crane.

Eloise had never been able to suppress her emotions. She looked up with tears rolling down her face.

“Do you not like it?” Amanda asked, voice trembling.

“No, no,” Eloise wiped away the tears. “I love it. Come here,” she leant over and crushed Amanda to her. Then shifted to take Oliver in her embrace. “I love it, I love you, I love you all so very, very much.”

“I like this—can we do this every year?” Oliver asked, looking up at her with shining eyes.

“Ofcourse we can,” Eloise replied. All three of them looked over to Philip.

Ofcourse,” he kissed the children’s foreheads lovingly, then looked up at Eloise with that lovely, gentle smile, “After all, it is about time we made some new traditions.”

[tabbi-mysteries]

Secret Santa here again! I could definitely see Shinichi or Makoto being the worst at gift-giving. And now I’m laughing at the thought of Genta giving someone an eel bowl 😆

Next question: on a scale of 1-10 with 1 being no fluff and 10 being so much fluff that it gives you a toothache, how much fluff do you prefer in fics centered around any of your ships?

I just used the word fluff way too many times.

Fluff.

- Secret Santa

10! I adore fluff!!!

Well actually most things in fics are great, I also enjoy angst but oh do I love fluff! Cheesy lines! Romantic cliches! Somehow all of the things I find myself rolling my eyes at in general become sooo good when it's in fanfic/fanart of ships I like XD

[burningaurora]

Day 6 - [Podfic] Falling For You, Like Snow On a Christmas Night by @engie-ivy

One-shot | Length: 11:06 | Rating: G

Remus is new in Godric’s Hollow, and Euphemia Potter seems to have already decided he's perfect for her second son. Remus soon finds himself falling for the young man, much too soon. It might just be a Holiday flirtation, after all.

Listen on: AO3 | Streaming

[serenaoffaerun]

WIP Wednesday!

Here's a little fluffy Gale and Tav snippet from the upcoming chapter 4 of the "Consequences" series! Hoping to have this fully out by the weekend, but who could say. It's a shitty Fibromyalgia week...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She pulled back just enough to look into his warm, chocolate-colored eyes. Her smile shone brighter than the sunrise when she saw that same spark that she'd fallen in love with a year ago. Smiling just as brightly with tears of joy streaming down his face, Gale chuckled lightly and brushed the hair out of her eyes. The pure love and adoration that his gaze poured out for her in that moment was only rivaled by the waves of relief he felt that she was actually here. Unable to speak, Tav closed her eyes, still grinning like a Cheshire cat, and nuzzled into the palm of his hand caressing the side of her face.

For having one of the most "practiced tongues" in all of Waterdeep, Gale also found himself unable to form words. Instead, he leaned in, placed a long, firm kiss to her forehead, then pulled her into his chest. He buried his face into her hair and they sat like that a few moments longer.

[mylittleredgirl]

all my boops seem to be erroring out now so i apologize for all the unreturned cartoon slaps and thanks everyone for a fun day! congrats and paw salutes to those of you who earned the third badge; i both admire and fear your dedication. 😻🫡

[wh1sp3rr]

sickly sweet romance of u & jay

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“jay,” you softly say.

your legs are stretched long on the soft beige duvet cover, blanket pulled up to jason’s chest, it riding just by your waist with you sat up straight. you look out the window, prickly raindrops sound as they hit the double panned glass, moonlight bathing your skin blue.

he’s breathing softly, body facing you so you watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his eyes stay shut in rest. he doesn’t hear you yet the sleepy sight of him makes you warm inside: hot and in love. you bite the inner part of your bottom lip and rake your fingers through his hair so to rouse him, he always did like when you did that. “jason.” you whisper shout, a little more playful than before and stroke his jawline quickly from ear to chin.

“mm?” he monosyllabically hums, still half-asleep. his mouth hardly moves but his eyebrows curiously wrinkle.

you drop down to his level and watch him like a puppy, eyes big and pupils wide, you just have to kiss his nose. “come on, baby. wake upp,” you slightly whine.

he doesn’t answer but smacks his lips a little and his entire expression creases briefly then reverts back to his sleepy, frozen self. he reaches for your face, feels around to grab your cheek since he refuses to open his eyes and awake from sleep, and cups your cheek. you smile, knowing this was his way of letting you know he was listening, even if he maybe wasn’t. you kiss his inner palm: the fatty part below his thumb— peck his wrist and then slide on top of him, kissing his cheek and his temple and near his eyes and by his jaw but not his lips, not yet.

with each kiss jason gains a little bit more consciousness, a little more happier and charmed by your excessive showering of affection he so tenderly loves. he groans, breathes out deeply and plants his hands on your hips, eyes squinting open, “alright. you’ve got my attention now.” he announces.

you smile and giggle, “so you’ll only listen to me if i’m kissing you?” your laugh reverberates through the thin cotton of your top into jason’s chest—deep in his bones, with your hearts only layers of skin, flesh and muscle away from touching.

he shakes the insinuation off, “nah baby, it’s not even like that.” he wraps his arms around your waist, belts them up real tight and pulls you in—hugs and rests in the little crook of your neck, breathes in the foggy remnants of today’s earlier perfume, kisses your cheek. loud smooch. “just tired.” he stays nestled in that tiny space by your neck.

you pout. want to whine at the fact that jay’s defo not gonna wake up and you’ll have to go do something on your own. you get that sleep is important to him and whatever it is that he does that requires him to come home absurdly late smelling a lot like blood and cigarettes but still it was only midnight on a friday, basically 8pm on any other day.

“you smell nice,” his lips tickle your neck and you shyly half-smile at the compliment.

“thank you.” softly you say.

“why you still up? you ain’t tired yet?” he asks, lips tickling your neck more.

“jason,” you whine a bit, roll your eyes too, even in the thick bluey darkness, “it’s only midnight. i’m surprised you even went to bed.”

“i’m tired, honey.” he rubs his face into your crook like a sleepy child, “and it was a slow night tonight. figured i deserved a break.” you can feel him slightly move his hands whilst he talks, nod a small yes to yourself even though you still weren’t quite sure what it was that he did.

“i still don’t really get what your job is.” you state, wanting him to elaborate.

he strokes your hair and gently says, “later, baby. later.”

you pout.

“don’t pout.”

you drop your jaw and pull back to see his face, “how’d you know i was doing that?”

“cuz i know my girl.” you smile down bashfully: sincerely. he picks your head up by kissing you. sweetly at first but, like always, a little nippy and sort of wild.

he pulls away before anything escalates and his voice sort of drops to this low, honeyed kind of hum, “you know i trust you with my life, right?” he cups your face.

you smile and hold the hand that’s on your cheek and kiss it as confirmation, “and you with mine.” you retaliate, a little hopeful for if he’ll finally share his secret with you. he rubs his thumb, a soft movement on your cheekbone.

“the shit i do—what i do…it’s not safe or i guess you could say, not conventional.” he searches between your eyes for any sort of understanding, hoping you get his meaning.

“i figured.” you calmly respond. “so what is it?” you push him.

he sighs. or maybe groans. whatever it was, he quickly looks down with such a look of torn you’d never seen. it makes you worry a bit—startle you. you had prepared for the worst: hitman, supplier, even a villain’s ally, training yourself to being accepting given if it were someone with fairer moral value. maybe someone like poison ivy or…

“red hood.” he dissyllabically says, with no real discernible tone, though he looks straight ahead at you and stares.

“is…” you wanna ask him if that’s who he works for but if there’s anything the people of gotham know, it’s that the red hood works alone. so you swallow that obsolete question and instead present with: “i kind of already knew.”

he looks up at you, wide eyed and ready to hear more.

“well i didn’t know know, i just knew that it was something ‘unconventional’. i was pretty convinced you were a hitman, it always made sense to me that’d if given the opportunity you’d be a good shot.” you flirt sweetly but still genuine. jay smiles softly, his eyes grow curious, his head somewhat tilted.

“what gave it away?”

you point at the few bits of dirty laundry behind him thrown over a chair, “you come in with a lot of blood.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he even makes the expressions the brows as if he’s said it, but no sound comes out.

you see it as an opportunity to kiss him, gently let him know you’re still there, and to not let him drift off into despair. “i’m glad you told me.

he takes your hand and places it flat on his chest, palm desperately close to his heart: it drums. “thought you’d dump me.”

you smile and kiss his nose, “not a chance.”

a silence briefly erupts and the two of you just stare at each other, moonlight glazing each one of your doubled reflections in the other’s pair of eyes: an utter warmth of transparency and trust and bond that’ll never grow old.

“i…” you start, jason’s ears immediately prick up, attentive to hear anything you’ll say. “are you still sleepy?”

benignly: “less now.” he pauses, “why? what do you wanna do?”

“just talk,” the duvet cover’s fabric echoes as you move to slide your arm down, propping yourself up with your upright elbow, chin in palm. “tell me about one of your days.” you slowly blink, madly in love.

“when i’m out fighting?” he asks, heart swelling at how loving you’re being, someday he’ll marry you he thinks.

“anything.” you slow, gentle voice lulls.

his thumb trills your knuckles back and forth before he begins: “alright.”

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