#child apron craft

[justgarb]

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Its armor and weapons or massive bling - there's no in between with this kid. She finally approves of the dress.

Tunic is linen from armstreet. Dress is made from bargain bin knit fabic with a fulled appearance to conceal the weave. Panel is cotton with brocaded trim, and beads are plastic so I won't regret if they break. Is it a bit overboard? Yeah, but if it gets her to play then cool beans. Now I need to make something for the wife to complete a full family outfit in norse theme. I look forward to being finished so we can maybe pay a visit to to the land of liripipes next

[axelsagewrites]

Hello,

Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.

Ivar the Boneless*Shy

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 2081

Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff

Masterlist here

As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.

It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.

Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.

You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.

“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.

Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”

Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.

“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.

“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”

Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.

“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.

“What are you doing?”

“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.

“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”

“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.

For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.

“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.

“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”

“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.

“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”

“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.

“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”

“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.

 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.

-

The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”

-

Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.

He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.

Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”

With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.

-

You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.

“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.

He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”

“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.

None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.

“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”

“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”

“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.

-

While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.

“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.

Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.

“How have you been- “

“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”

A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.

“And now?”

You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.

“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”

Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”

“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.

“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”

He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.

-

For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.

You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.

“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”

“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.

“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,”

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[elizabethsnuts]

Birthday Surprise

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Emily and JJ help you and Jack put together a surprise birthday for your dad.

———

The kitchen was an absolute mess, with flour all around the counter, frosting sticking to every surface in the form of child handprints, and the very obvious one too many failed cracked eggs that you insisted you needed to crack.

You stood in the kitchen with Jack, JJ and Emily, the four of you very busy making a big birthday surprise for Hotch when he came back from work. You watched as JJ stirred the icing with her spoon, mesmerised as it moved around the bowl and smoothed out.

“I try?” You asked JJ with excitement in your voice, you loved being a big helper in the surprise birthday for your daddy.

JJ nodded and smiled. “Of course you can, honey.” She picked you up, setting you on the stepping stool so you could reach the counter and stir the icing.

Jack was helping Emily with the streamers and balloons, he was having the best time throwing them all everywhere while Emily did the hard work blowing the balloons up.

Emily looked over at Jack and smiled. “Hey, bud, why don’t you go and work on the banner? It needs its finishing touches!”

Jack nodded quickly in agreement. “Yeah! I’ll put more of N/Ns glitter!”

You quickly looked up at JJ when you heard the word glitter. You loved glitter, you had glitter covering you from your recent arts and crafts on the banner. “Glitter?” You asked with a smirky smile.

JJ laughed slightly, taking in the mess of you. The little apron covered in flour, your cute little face with icing smeared on it, and of course the glitter in your hair, your face and your clothes. “I don’t think we need any more glitter, I think we’ve got enough.”

You just sighed and continued stirring the icing. “Glitter.” No one could tell if you liked glitter because it was shiny and pretty or if you just loved making messes, the guess was usually both.

Eventually, the cake was done and Emily and JJ had to keep you away from the kitchen before you could dip your little fingers into it, they knew you wouldn’t be able to resist that urge.

“Cake lonely.” You pointed to the cake sitting in the kitchen, you wanted a way in there.

Emily shook her head and laughed. “The cake is not lonely, it’s got the icing and all the toppings there for friends. Your dad will be home soon and look! We’ve finished everything on time!” Emily smiled and ruffled your now glitter-free hair.

“Y/N you can’t eat the cake until Daddy gets home!” Jack laughed and chucked his stuffed bear at you which earned a laugh from your little mouth.

When Hotch arrived home, he definitely did get surprised. You all popped up in excitement, yelling Happy Birthday, the house littered with streamers and balloons, and a big banner that said ‘Happy Birthday Daddy!’ in big bold letters, hung from the ceiling.

“Happy birthday Daddy!” You squealed loudly and ran over, hugging him tight and showing him a card you’d made just for him. “For you, for you!”

Aaron smiled a little wider at the sight of the surprise. “You guys surprised me so well!” He chuckled and looked at your card. It was covered in paint, pen drawings, random buttons and tape but most of all, glitter. “Wow Y/N this is just an absolutely gorgeous card you’ve made for me.”

You smiled widely and nodded. “Daddy, you like, you like?” You jumped up and down excitedly, you were so excited to give him your card.

“Do I like it? Y/N I love it! I’m going to keep it for forever.” Aaron smiled and hugged you tightly.

By the time the cake rolled around, you were jumping around the place. You needed that cake in your belly right at that moment. You watched your daddy closely as he cut the cake and got the first slice.

You took this as your cue to get some now as Aaron had taken some. You quickly realised you couldn’t have the knife so you resorted to your hands, grabbing a chunk and shoving it in your mouth.

“Good cake!” You cheered and jumped around the house. Aaron knew the sugar rush he’d have to deal with later but he’d just enjoy the moment now.

Aaron hugged both you and Jack close, grateful for his two loving children. With Haley not around anymore, he couldn’t be more appreciative of Emily and JJ who stepped up and made sure that you and Jack could give him the best birthday ever.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. They're celebrating Christmas as a family with their children. ( idk if they celebrated it back then) Just something fluff and cute. Maybe a tradition was born. You decide what it was. Thanks!! :))

A Bridgerton Christmas

benedict bridgerton x fem wife reader

The Bridgerton household was alight with festive cheer. The grand estate was adorned with garlands of holly and ivy, while the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked gingerbread wafted through the halls. Snow had blanketed the grounds outside, transforming the landscape into a winter wonderland. Inside, warmth radiated from every corner, courtesy of the roaring fireplaces and the love that permeated the air.

Benedict Bridgerton, ever the artist, had spent the morning with his children, helping them craft intricate paper snowflakes and ornaments to hang on the tree. Each child’s creation was unique, a testament to the imagination and creativity that Benedict so cherished in them. Y/N, his beloved wife, had been bustling about the kitchen, overseeing the preparation of the Christmas feast with the help of the household staff. She wore an apron over her elegant dress, a slight smudge of flour on her cheek only adding to her radiant charm.

As the afternoon sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered grounds, Benedict gathered the children in the drawing room. Their laughter and excitement filled the space as they eagerly awaited the evening’s festivities. Y/N joined them shortly, her smile lighting up the room as she carried a tray of hot cocoa, each mug topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“Who’s ready to decorate the tree?” Benedict asked, his eyes twinkling with joy.

A chorus of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the children, and they all scrambled to their feet, rushing towards the towering evergreen that stood in the corner of the room. The tree was already adorned with twinkling lights and a few cherished ornaments, but it awaited the special touch of the Bridgerton family.

One by one, they hung their handcrafted decorations, each child carefully selecting the perfect branch for their creation. Benedict lifted the youngest, a giggling little girl, so she could place her star at the very top of the tree. Y/N stood back, admiring the scene, her heart swelling with love and pride.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered, slipping her hand into Benedict’s.

“It is,” he agreed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “But not as beautiful as you.”

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as they watched their children. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, the spirit of Christmas infusing every moment with magic.

Once the tree was complete, the family gathered around the fireplace. Benedict took out his sketchbook, capturing the scene with swift, sure strokes. The children were transfixed, watching their father bring their Christmas to life on the page.

“Papa, can you tell us a story?” one of the older children asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Benedict smiled, closing his sketchbook. “Of course. Let’s see… how about the story of our very first Christmas together?”

The children settled in, leaning against their parents as Benedict began his tale. He spoke of their courtship, the way he had fallen in love with Y/N’s laughter and kindness. He recounted the snowy evening he had proposed, the joy they had felt as they planned their future together. And finally, he told them about their first Christmas as husband and wife, a day filled with love and laughter, setting the foundation for all the joyous celebrations to come.

As Benedict spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a tear slip down her cheek. The story was a reminder of how far they had come, of the love that had only grown stronger with each passing year.

When the story ended, the children were filled with questions, eager to hear more about their parents’ adventures. But Y/N stood, a playful smile on her lips.

“I think it’s time for a new tradition,” she announced, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Benedict raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what might that be, my love?”

Y/N beckoned the children to follow her, leading them to the kitchen. There, on the counter, were bowls of cookie dough, sprinkles, and icing in every color imaginable.

“We’re going to make Christmas cookies,” she declared. “Each of you will make one for Santa, and one to hang on the tree.”

The children’s faces lit up with excitement, and they eagerly set to work, rolling out dough and cutting it into festive shapes. Benedict joined in, his artistic flair evident in the intricate designs he crafted. Laughter and chatter filled the kitchen as flour dusted the air and icing smudged fingers.

As the cookies baked, filling the house with their delicious aroma, Benedict pulled Y/N into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“This is perfect,” he murmured. “You’re perfect.”

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart full. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, watching their children create memories that would last a lifetime. And in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter, a new Bridgerton Christmas tradition was born one that would be cherished for generations to come.

As the evening wore on and the children’s excitement showed no signs of waning, they began clamoring to open their presents. Y/N, now noticeably tired, rubbed her swollen belly and sank into a nearby armchair. She was glowing with the anticipation of their newest family member, but the day’s festivities had taken their toll.

“Mama, can we open our presents now?” one of the children asked, eyes wide with eagerness.

Y/N smiled wearily. “I think it’s time, but I need to sit down for a moment.”

Benedict, noticing her fatigue, quickly stepped in. “All right, everyone. Let’s gather around the tree and open our presents together, but let’s make sure we’re gentle and don’t overwhelm Mama. She needs to rest.”

The children, sensing the importance of their father’s words, nodded solemnly and moved to sit in a semi-circle around the tree. Benedict helped Y/N to a more comfortable position, placing a pillow behind her back and kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, my love,” she whispered, her hand resting on her belly.

“Anything for you,” he replied softly.

The children began to unwrap their gifts, their eyes lighting up with each new discovery. Benedict and Y/N watched, their hearts full as they shared glances of mutual adoration and pride. Each child took turns showing off their new treasures, the room filled with exclamations of joy and wonder.

As the last present was opened and the children began to settle down, Y/N felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Benedict wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“This has been a perfect Christmas,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling. “And it’s only going to get better.”

In the glow of the firelight, with their children nestled around them and the promise of new life on the horizon, the Bridgertons embraced the magic of Christmas, cherishing each moment and the traditions they had begun together.

like and comment :)

[deliciousangelfestival]

I have a cute one for you! Ok so Bucky’s fiancée (the reader) gives Bucky an early Christmas present when he comes home from a mission and the present is the reader’s way of telling Bucky that she’s pregnant with hers and Bucky’s first child

Take your time and have an amazing day/night!🩵

Thank you for the fluff request. I love it 😭💖💖💖. I hope you like it.🥰🎄🎄🎄🎁🎁🎁

****************

Unexpected Present, Unfolding Future

Character: Bucky x fiancee!Reader

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The wind howled like a banshee outside, whipping snowflakes against Bucky's face as he trudged up the porch steps. His shoulders hunched, mirroring the weight of the world on his weary soul. All he craved was a hot meal, a warm bed, and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

As he fumbled with his keys, the door swung open, revealing Y/N in a festive apron, a mischievous grin splitting her face. Like a siren song, the aroma of cinnamon and gingerbread cookies lured him inside.

"Merry Christmas, my hero!" she chimed, holding out a small, suspiciously lopsided box. "Early Christmas gift for the soldier who finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching. "Early Christmas, huh? Didn't know the holiday came early for soldiers who can't tell a gingerbread man from a landmine."

Y/N gasped, mocking, clutching her pearls. "How dare you insult my culinary prowess! These cookies are works of art, even if they do resemble abstract reindeer."

Bucky chuckled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He took the box, his fingers tracing the uneven wrapping job. Inside, nestled on a bed of red tissue paper, lay a pair of baby shoes knitted in the brightest blue yarn he'd ever seen. They looked like they were crafted by a squirrel with a crochet addiction.

Silence descended, broken only by the crackling fire. Then, Bucky's face broke into a grin that could rival the sun. He swept Y/N up in his arms, twirling her around until they were both dizzy and laughing.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he teased, his voice filled with disbelief and pure joy.

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling like fairy lights. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Maybe I just really like tiny shoes."

Bucky stared at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a feeling unlike anything he'd ever known. He was going to be a father. A wave of protectiveness washed over him, so fierce and new it took his breath away.

He held Y/N close, his metal arm gently cradling her growing belly. The warmth of the fireplace, the aroma of questionable cookies, the sound of her laughter – it all felt like coming home.

"This is the best Christmas present I could ever ask for," Bucky whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Even if the shoes look like a toddler yeti made them."

Y/N swatted him playfully. "Hey! I put a lot of effort into those abominations. And besides, who says our child can't have a unique fashion sense?"

Bucky chuckled, a true, heartfelt laugh that echoed through the room. "Of course, my love. If they want to wear mismatched socks and walk around like a tiny yeti, who am I to argue?"

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of laughter, carols, and questionable hot cocoa that tasted suspiciously like gingerbread and burnt sugar. Bucky held the tiny baby shoes in his palm, staring at them with a reverence he didn't know he possessed.

He imagined the little feet that would fill them, the first steps, the first words. He imagined a future filled with bedtime stories, epic pillow fights, and late-night talks about everything and nothing.

As they drifted off to sleep that night, nestled together under a mountain of mismatched blankets, Bucky knew this was only the beginning of their greatest adventure.

The world outside might be cold and chaotic, but inside their little apartment, it was warm, safe, and with the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and the occasional sartorial disaster.

As Bucky held Y/N close and felt the tiny life growing within her, he knew he would spend the rest of his life protecting them with all his heart and a healthy dose of humor. After all, a little laughter goes a long way, significantly when raising a future child together.

Author Note : Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

[minimomoe]

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Four: Apple Cider

“Rina, you lied to me. You make it sound like you teach the spawns of satan but all these kids look absolutely adorable.”

“They are spawns of satan,” Rina hisses quietly, making sure no other teachers can hear her. You shake your head in disbelief. “Of course they are on their best behavior now. Nobody wants ISS.”

“Well I think that they are adorable. I mean, there’s mini Princess Tiana and tiny Jack Sparrow. That’s a crossover I never thought I would see,” You point at the kids who came dressed up for the fall festival. There were different booths open, from games, to food, to arts and crafts, and apparently the school had a special surprise as the finale. 

“I guess they’re not all bad,” Rina grumbles. 

Three kids walked up to Reyna’s booth, their costumes bringing a bright smile to her face. The child in the middle looked familiar to you but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“And what can I get the vampire queen, Frankenstein, and the werewolf today? I have caramel brownie bites, mini cinnamon rolls, and peppermint bark. Oh, and I also have apple cider,” you display. 

“I’m Frankenstein’s monster. Mary Shelley never gave the monster a name,” says the kid in the middle. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You’ve read Frankenstein already? I didn’t have to read that until high school,” you blink. The little kid just shrugs his shoulders.

“How much do we have to pay you? I would like some brownie bites,” says the vampire queen. She has a hand held mirror and checks her fangs in it. 

“It’s all free. Just let me know what you want.”

“Then I want one of everything and some cider!” Says the werewolf.

“Yuji, leave some for other people.”

“What? She said it’s free,” Yuji looks back at you and you nod your head. “See Nobara!”

“Fine. I’d like to have a brownie bite and peppermint bark then. What about you, Megumi?”

Megumi was about to order until he read your apron. It was the same flourish of cursive letters that he had seen on the boxes his dad brought home. His eyes narrow suspiciously, pointing his finger at your clothes. 

“Are you the owner of Love Bites?”

You chuckle nervously. “Yes…why?”

“And you’re dressed like a witch?”

“The Wicked Witch of the West, yes.”

“Megumi, you might be right. She really did curse your dad,” Yuji says with a mouth full of brownies. Megumi scowls at him, but his face looks so much like his father that you had to hold back a laugh. 

“So you’re Toji’s son? It’s lovely to meet you. I promise, I did not curse your dad to be a slave to my baked goods.”

“Yeah. You haven’t given him your cookie yet,” Rina whispers in your ear, making you smack her arm. 

“My dad was eating a jelly donut once, your jelly donut. He has never eaten those before. The jelly fell on his pants, and he just stared at it for a really long time. I think the sugar is rotting his brain since he keeps on going back to buy more.” 

You snort but you couldn’t get mad at the child. He says everything so matter-of-factly you almost felt compelled to agree with him. “How about you taste one of my treats and you can come to your own conclusion?”

Megumi narrows his eyes again, but the pretty lady didn’t set off any alarms in his head. He takes a caramel brownie bite and takes his time to really chew it. You, Rina, Yuji, and Nobara stand in anticipation as you await Megumi’s verdict. After what seemed to be ages Megumi swallows and looks back to you. You lean in close when he opens his mouth to sigh.

“I don’t hate it.”

You turn and high five Rina while Nobara hands Yuji a one dollar bill. “I told you he would like her eventually,” he smirks. Nobara shakes her head in despair and clings to Megumi’s shoulder. “What happened to your cold heart? I just lost money because you want to be nice.”

“I may be a hater but I won’t be a liar,” Megumi grumbles, taking a cup of apple cider to wash down the snack. 

“I’m glad that you liked it,” you swell, and Megumi really couldn’t get himself to dislike the mystery baker lady like he had planned to. 

“Megumi, there you are!” Huffed Toji. He was in his customary black suit, except his hair was pushed back and you couldn’t help but to stare. Toji’s eyes bounced between Megumi and Reyna, and then to you and Rina, then back to Megumi. He nods to you before turning his attention back to his kid.

“The fireworks are about to start,” Toji said carefully. “Let’s go get a good spot.”

Megumi could tell the nervous look in his father’s eyes as he looked at you like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Frankenstein’s monster turned to look at you. “Do you want to come with us?”

You start to decline but Rina jumps in. “I’ll take it from here. I’m not a fan of fireworks and I see them every year. Go, have some fun,” she winks. 

You look at Toji and he looks hopeful. He sees her wearing the earmuffs and beanie that he had bought you a week before and he smiles . Not a wide, opened mouth smile, but you have studied his facial expressions long enough to know that he was beyond happy and you blush, following them to an open spot on the field. The kids trail in front of the two adults and whisper among themselves.

“Megumi, your dad should be holding her hand. Why isn’t he doing that?” Nobara hisses.

“He’s a slowpoke that’s why. Why do you even care?”

“She’s pretty and she can bake. We’d be dumb not to like her,” Yuji answers. Megumi scowls at them but before he can answer the fireworks start.

When everyone’s attention is focused on the glittering light show Megumi looks back at his dad, and sees that you are standing much closer to him than before. He squints, noticing that you have your pinkies entwined together before fully enclosing each other’s hands, and when Toji’s eyes fall on his son’s, he gives a father a sharp nod before turning back to listen to his friends try to shout louder than the fireworks. 

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

II. Sharlotka

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: Tartaglia comes over to learn how to make apple cake. But is that really why he's in your bakery?

⋆｡°✩wc: 2.5k

⋆｡°✩warnings: fluff

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist

The dreaded moment had come. The day that you told Tartaglia you’d teach him how to make your apple cake, to get him to leave you be just two days ago. 

Though really, you concluded that he wasn’t necessarily a nuisance. You may or may not have realized you have the tiniest, little, minuscule crush on the guy. The night before, you could feel how hot your face was once Tartaglia left the shop, and how you were ever-so-slightly flustered the rest of the shift.

It was nothing, you tried to convince yourself. All that happened was that you’ve seen him twice, he has some bizarre interest in you, and he’s just a pretty boy. Archons, you feel like a middle schooler, saying you kind of “like-liked” him, but you wouldn’t even go that far.

The first stage is denial.

You took some extra time to prepare during your morning routine, even donning a nicer outfit than usual. It's not that you look bad most days, you just decided to put in more effort. Even Ivan commented how nice you look you felt yourself getting sick.

This isn't you! You're business and success-oriented, wanting to be the strong and independent woman that you grew up reading stories of, like the one that ruled your nation. But, even the Tsaritsa has her harbingers.

You continue to stay in the mindset that this wasn’t going to be anything serious, you barely even know the guy so it’s not like this is going to become an actual thing. It goes against what you want.

What you’re pretty sure you want.

It’s 6:50, 10 minutes until closing time, and you take one final look at yourself before rushing downstairs to your bakery.

“Ivan!” You yell as you get to the first floor, “Do not turn anything off, I’m making some stuff after closing.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed, as he just shut off the oven for the day, “Sorry.”

“It's fine, just take all the tips and scram,” You say jokingly.

“What are you up to?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed, “Are you expecting someone?”

“You’re getting nosey,” You remark as you put your apron on, “But, yes.”

You say the latter phrase more deadpan than the other, and that sets Ivan off, apparently.

“If this person gives you any trouble, just know I can wield a frying pan better than the Captain can wield a sword,” He exclaims in a jokingly prideful, yet brotherly tone.

His bold statement shocks you, “I’m pretty sure you could get put on a watchlist for saying that... but thanks.”

You shoo him out before 7, giving you a few minutes to yourself before anyone else was going to be around. You gather the needed ingredients and set out all your tools so you don’t have to fish them out as you go, and to keep your mind off of what disaster may ensue.

The knot in your stomach is too big to ignore now, and you want to hit yourself with how childish you were being. This isn’t you, you have to be possessed or something, you don’t

“Well, Ms. Y/N, you look nice,” You jerk your head up at the sudden voice.

You look ahead to see Tartaglia, the anxious knot in your stomach growing bigger by the millisecond. He isn’t in his usual get-up, but a grey button-up covered by an oxblood-colored scarf and black pants. His hair is slightly tousled, and his eyes appear brighter than usual. He’s so damn handsome, and this time you can’t just blame it on your bakery’s lights, not with your new-found revelation on this little crush you have.

“Hi,” you spit out as a result of your brain short-circuiting as it ran out of witty remarks.

He makes his way closer to you, this time instead of standing across from you, he comes around to where you are.

“So this is your domain of expertise, where you hone and master your craft,” He says, sparking a dismayed look on your face, unimpressed at his phraseology.

“Yes. Now, first, I want you to dice these apples,” You brush off his odd statement and hand him three red apples from your baking counter, “Then, you need to integrate the apples with this cinnamon mixture.”

“We are getting right to work, aren’t we?” He says as he takes the apples, “It’s like you want me out here as fast as possible, hmm.”

You chuckle as you get him a cutting knife, “You catch on really quickly.”

He laughs back at that, and your cheeks heat up further at his laugh.

“I’m going to mix all the powder now. Flour, baking powder, the good stuff,” You say as you move your ingredients closer to his working space.

You begin to tell him what you’re all pouring into separate bowls, meanwhile explaining to him exactly what you’re doing.

“So now, you are going to manually beat these eggs for a few minutes,” You speak up as you hand him a whisk. He gladly takes it and begins working, which shocks you. Most people would be reluctant to mix something for 7 minutes straight, but he was oddly compliant. Odd, or, you just can’t take the hint.

“You must have strong arms to be doing this for a living,” He remarks with a chuckle as he whisks the contents of the bowl efficiently.

“I do,” You say as you flex your biceps and forearms, half-joking.

You observe his actions, noticing that even through his shirt, you can see his arm muscles flex with each stir he makes. You suppose a toy maker could have built that much mass in their profession, but you’re too hypnotized focused on his actions to think much of it.

“Done! What do I do next?” You look up at his face, which dons a smile as he hands you the bowl, which was mixed well. And somehow, his cheek had a smidgen of flour on it. 

“You uhm have flour on your face,” You say as you point toward his left cheek, wondering how it could’ve possibly gotten there. He begins rubbing his hand on his face, but seems to be missing the small part of flour on him. 

“Did I get it?” You shake your head in disappointment. “Can you just get it for me?” He asks, causing you to sigh exasperatedly. You grab his face to pull it down with one hand, and you softly brush off the flour on his cheek.

While you're focused on his cheek, he is brazenly looking down at your face with a smile, almost waiting for you to look back at him. But as soon as you got your hand off his face, you went back to working on the cake.

“Right, So next we’re going to lay a layer of the batter down, then a layer of the apples, and repeat,” You bring the cake pan in front of you, “So you pour yours then I’ll put mine on top of it.” 

He begins to pour a thin layer of the batter, and you then put a layer of apples on top of it. The process repeats for a while in a focused silence, and before you know it, you’ve placed your final layer.

“Do you want the honor of putting this in the oven?” You turn to him with the pan in your hand.  

“Absolutely,” He takes the pan from you with a smile, and proceeds to place the pan in the oven. You turn around to begin cleaning up the space when you hear a hiss coming from Tartaglia. 

“Are you okay?” You ask with an undisguised worriment in your voice, quickly turning around to look at him.

“I must’ve burnt my hand on the oven rack,” He brushes off with a chuckle.

“You didn’t use the mitt? The oven mitt right next to you?” You scold him, not hiding your concern. 

You close the door to the oven and start a timer for 60 minutes, then rush over to the sink. You wet a nearby washcloth and bring it to him. You hold it on his burn, firm yet gentle, with a disappointed look on your face. 

“Idiot,” You murmur, “You need to be more careful.”

He chuckles while looking at you while tending to him. You don’t find anything laughable about his recklessness, so you look up at him to express your disagreement with his mood.

As you dab down on his hand, you notice how he has two scars on his right hand alone. One sprawls across the back of his palm, and is lengthy, yet skinny. The other is so long that it disappears into his long-sleeve shirt, yet is thick in width. You don’t know him well enough to ask about it, but it does bother you how much care, or lack thereof, he put toward himself.

“Now we wait 60 minutes for it to bake,” You speak up, still focused on the burn spot on his hand. You take the washcloth off after a while, and go toward the main area of the bakery toward the stools in front of a counter, where you take a seat, “Are you going to stand for an entire hour?”

He follows you and plops down on the stool to the right of you, staring ahead at the wall. 

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend?” He sings in a jokingly nosey tone.

“No, that’s not my boyfriend,” You scoff, “ That’s my friend from Inazuma. He taught me a few Inazuman recipes.” 

“Ah,” He sounds almost satisfied with the answer you gave him.

“You’re pretty good at some of the techniques,” You look at him through the sides of your eyes, “Do you bake often?” 

“I like to help around at home,” He answers, “My skills are nowhere near yours, and that's no small feat.”

“Thanks,” You respond sarcastically at his brag. 

“What’s your favorite thing you make?” He asks, which actually causes you to think.

“To make or to eat?” You look at him.

“Both,” He says, with his eyes not leaving your face and form.

“To make, probably just plain cake, it’s not difficult and many customers enjoy it,” You gaze back at the oven, “I don’t know what’s my favorite to eat, I prefer to eat what others make for me.” 

Tartaglia beams up at you, “Next time I’ll bring my favorite for you, my mother makes it so perfectly.” 

“Next time? You’re bold,” You respond with a laugh as he still looks at you in adoration.

You cut the small talk and replace it with silence, as much silence as Tartaglia would allow, and fiddle with a decorative fake glaze lily in front of you. He just taps his finger on the counter top, almost impatiently. 

You suddenly stand and make your way to the oven. You take a toothpick and check how baked the cake was, and you must’ve wasted a substantial amount of time, because the cake is almost completely cooked. You, unlike someone else you know, put on your oven mitt and set it down on the counter to cool.

You turn around to tell Tartaglia, but he’s already right behind you. A gasp of shock lets out, considering how stealthily he must’ve gotten right behind you. 

“You are so " 

“You’re so pretty.”

That got you to shut up. He smiles at how stiff you got from his sudden words as if that wasn’t a completely normal response to what he just said. And the way he said it so endearingly, without a hint of his usual teasing tone, sent a heat wave throughout your entire body. But, like everything else, you shut it down for your protection.

“If that’s your way of taking this cake home, you already have it. Share it with Teucer, and Tonya, and "

“No, Y/N, that’s my way of telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman in Snezhnaya. Or all of Tevyat, for that matter,” He responds with a serious, and slightly frustrated, tone.

“What?” Your voice becomes smaller, almost timid, at his sudden designation. 

“You’re not serious, are you?” He asks, then pauses for a moment, “Y/N, why am I here tonight?”

“You wanted to learn how to make a cake,” You respond.

“You are so difficult, Лисичка, it was never about the damn apple cake!” He cries. By then, the two of you were just an inch away from each other, your exchange of exclamations causing you to get closer and closer. Your eyes narrow at his, physically questioning his statement. 

“ just need to ” He cuts off his statement by placing his hands on your face and bringing it closer to his, before connecting his lips to yours.

Oh.

You return the favor though, and kiss him back. While still pressed together, he takes one of his hands and places it on your back, pushing you even closer to his body. He keeps kissing you, and you keep reciprocating, and that exchange continues. It continues while he walks forward, takes you with him, and presses you up against the closed oven.

He takes his hand out from your back and returns it to your face, caressing your soft cheek with his thumb. Your hand finds itself on the back of Tartaglia’s head, holding onto his thick hair as the other finds itself braced on his chest. 

If you weren’t so lost in the moment, you would’ve freaked out at how toned his abdomen felt through his shirt, but you were too gone to focus on that detail. You let go for a moment, trying to get a breath of air.

He pulls away as well, not for long, and huffs out a breath of air as if he had won some sort of battle. You suppose he had, you didn’t play easy until you let him kiss you so abruptly, but you didn’t care right now. He begins peppering your face completely, from your cheeks to your nose to your forehead, before finding your lips once again and pressing his to yours yet again. You let out a quaint whimper, which he chuckles at through his mouth before you begin to guide him down a small hallway.

To hell with the plans you have. Fuck the loneliness and the walls you’ve built around you for the sake of business. This can’t hurt you too badly.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” You ask out of breath. He nods his head like an excited child, which you smirk at before grabbing his wrist and running upstairs hand in hand.

The cake could wait to be iced in the morning.

⋆｡°✩a/n: can you tell I hate writing slow burn >:))) I just cannot keep them apart!! Thank y’all for reading :) also! I finally learned how to work my inbox so if you have any comments, ideas, or just wanna chat, please feel free!

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings

[stardust-poet]

Will solace x reader

°•~《☆》~•°

A/n: tbh this is inspired by a solangelo fic with the light-turning-o (which I still think is a cool trope thingy)

Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, not proof read, really short.

Enjoy!

°•~《☆》~•°

The images kept flashing in your mind. All the blood, guts, gore. The blood on your hands, all over the surgical apron you were wearing at the time.

You could still feel the young demigods blood dirtying your hands, though there was nothing there anymore. You had washed your hands so many times that they felt raw.

You had just lost a patient. Four young demigods came into camp badly injured, and only three made it out alive. The fourth demigod was your patient, and you were torn to pieces.

How could you have done this? It was all your fault, really. You weren't even a child of apollo! What were you thinking, working in the infirmary with the cabin seven kids. It was stupid. And it was all your fault.

Holding your knees to your chest, choking back sobs in your cabins bathroom, was all you felt like doing for the rest of your limited days. Until you heard a faint knock on the bathroom door.

"Y/n? You in there?" You heard the voice call, and you immediately recognized the faint southern accent. William Solace.

"Yeah, I'm–I'm fine." You choked out, believing your own lie.

"I don't believe you." He said.

After years of working in the infirmary, you knew he could spot any lie. you could hear him rattle the doorknob, trying to get in.

"Let me in, please." Will said, a pleading tone laced within his voice.

You shook your head to yourself.

"Nuh uh. I-i dont.. I don't want you to see me like this." You whispered on the verge of tears again.

"Y/n, please let me in. I only wanna help." He mumbled, and you could hear him sliding down with his back against the door, sitting down.

"I don't want your help. I fucked up, I have to deal with this on my own."

It was stupid logic, and you knew it, but it was the only thing you could think of. Maybe it would get him to go away.

It didn't.

"If you don't want me to see you, I'll turn off the light." Will whispered. It didn't make much sense to him, but it worked in your head.

You didn't say anything, but you didn't protest.

After a few long seconds, you unlocked the door, praying Will would keep his word.

As soon as the door cracked open, Will reached out his hand to flick off the light switch. You saw his shadowy, masculine figure slip into the room, sitting beside you.

The silence was deafening, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Maybe it was having another human being next to you in the dark that made you feel safe.

Or maybe it was how warmth practically radiated off of Will, making you feel like you were lying out in the sun.

After a while, Will reached out to hold your shaky hand.

His own hand was rough and calloused, but it had a gentleness to it. With him being head of the infirmary, you weren't surprised about them being calloused.

But the gentleness felt special. It felt like it was crafted only for you to feel. You knew that wasn't true. You knew Will had to have the same softness with his patients

Will still didn't say anything, and you didn't either. You didn't wanna talk this out anytime soon.

So, sitting here in the darkness with a mini sunshine by your side would have to do. For now.

☆

Taglist:

@thementallyillapollochild @daonedaonlyskh

Let me know if you want to be added, or removed :)

[spotsandsocks]

Let me stay by your fire (for nothing warms me like you do) 4.5K M to E

A little birthday gift for @alyxmastershipper Ryan my lovely I hope you have a lovely day Let me stay by your fire (for nothing warms me like you do)

Big birthday hug 🥰

The sound of the anvil is loud; again and again metal on metal reverberates through the air. It’s a pattern that’s strong and sure, power and control combined just like the man inside. The man he’s come to see. The noise is almost loud enough to drown out the hammering of his own heart. 

Almost.

It’s been a month since he’s been here. A month since he’s seen them. Him.

The Knight waits; he’s known as the bravest man in the Kingdom, he’s fought battles and terrors most men would run from but the four walls of the Smith’s home are the most terrifying thing he’s ever seen. 

It’s just a building but it makes him want things, things he’d never thought he could have. He looks and he aches. It’s all he wants, a place to hang up his sword, a place to call home, people to call his, but does he have a chance? Does he dare try?  Buck knows he’s about to face his last battle, one between his fear and his hope. It’s the biggest challenge he’s ever faced.

The noise continues to echo and with each heavy clang the picture inside his head becomes clearer. Buck can easily imagine the scene inside the forge.  The man's arms, thick and strong, will be working tirelessly to lift the hammer and bring it down over and over again. All the strength he has in those muscles coiled then released to bend metal to his will but that’s not all Eddie uses his strength for. Buck’s seen those arms used to protect; to hold his child close, wrap him up and keep him safe, the action so gentle and tender that it hurts his heart to watch. He wonders if he’ll ever know how those arms feel wrapped around him.

The image inside his head shines brightly; untidy strands of brown hair damp with sweat sticking to his forehead, a tunic stretched tight over muscles visible even under the thick leather apron he’ll be wearing. Buck knows that the dark eyes that make his heart trip will be intense and focused on the fire and whatever miracle of metal he’s crafting.

The blacksmith is extremely skilled at his craft, it’s why Buck originally sought him out. The Diaz forge was well spoken of and he’d needed someone skilled to repair his armour. When he arrived he’d found so much more than he’d been looking for. After that first visit he returned again and then again and then again. Buck has spent considerable time and effort finding reasons that meant he had to visit the forge. It’s been years now. Eddie’s made new pieces of armour for him, he’s responsible for the sword that hangs on hip and several knives hidden on his body. One that saved his life once.  Eddie’s become very familiar with Buck’s horse, he’s had her reshod here so many times. He’s even had him make smaller items like the jewelry he’s sent to his sister. Eddie had been particularly pleased to be challenged  with something new and Buck smiles at the memory of the shy but proud twist of Eddie’s lips when the blacksmith had presented him with the bracelet he’d created out of two old spoons twisted and polished into something more beautiful and remarkable than the everyday item it had started as. 

His horse stirs restlessly beneath him, she’s waited too long now and is familiar enough with this place to know rest, water and apples await her.

He’s not even sure why he’s hesitant to go closer. They’ve known each other long enough that he doesn’t need an excuse to visit anymore, he's a family friend, a regular visitor. He knows he’s welcome. He’s not really a guest anymore at Eddie’s but it’s different today. He’s finished with his duty, he’s left his comrades behind him and he wants a new kind of life. He wants to come home. He wants to stay.

He really hopes he can.

Last time he was here he learnt something about himself. He should have already known of course, and maybe a part of him had.  It really shouldn’t have been the blinding revelation it had been but now he knows the truth he has to do something about it.

The moment of clarity that changed everything has been replayed in his head and dreams every night since he left here.

It had been just Eddie and him up late, talking in front of the fire. It had been simple, familiar; a mug of ale passed from one hand to another, fingers that brushed, eyes that held his, soft and warm with crinkles at the corner. Nothing new there. 

The moment had centred on lips that curved softly and the thought had appeared unexpected and startling. Four words followed by four more. 

I could kiss you. 

I want to kiss you. 

And Buck understood with blinding painful clarity that he didn’t keep returning to this place  because Eddie  was good at his job or that he had become his best friend or that Christopher was the cutest kid ever. 

No in that moment wrapped in the light from the dying fire, the warmth coming from the hearth and Eddie’s eyes  Buck had  known  the truth; he was in love, had always been, desperately, hopelessly, permanently. 

Lost in each other's gaze Buck easily accepted that he’d never felt love like this before and that he wouldn’t again. 

The fire cracked and the moment broke. Leaving a Knight and a Smith staring at the floor, cheeks red, hearts racing.

He’d left the next morning because Eddie could never be his, he’ll marry again one day, find someone to share his life with and be Christopher’s mother. Buck is his friend, that’s all. He knows that - except for the hope. He’s been fighting it and despite his victories and valor he’s losing the most important battle he’s ever faced.

So here he is. Maybe willing to try.

He  could have stayed away longer, tried to let the feelings die  but he’d missed them too much and he just wasn’t strong enough. Sir Buck searches for his last scrap of courage, aware that heartbreak might await him but he knows he’ll take what he can for as long as he can and when his heart finally does break he’ll still be grateful for the time he’s had here.

Buck dismounts and leads his horse towards the forge and the warmth he longs for but knows can’t ever really be his. 

continue on Ao3

[bruciemilf]

Very soft No Capes AU in which the batkids have a little fantasy club. Dick and Kon are very serious founders. Jason does the writing and scripting, " Cause he's a nerd!"

" I'm NOT! I'm just very passionate about the intricate symbol of love that goes into personal creation,"

" Stop talking like that. No 5 year old sounds like that. "

" This one does! Now stay still, Harv. Tim's almost finished,"

Harvey's getting the right side of his face painted with Damian and Kon hanging off his back, -- this is good child care, he supposes, thought he laughs a little,

" Murray wants you guys to know he doesn't look like that."

"He signed creative rights away!"

"Yeah, Harv," Ivy's actually in the middle of signing hers, green crayon pigment smudged on her fingers, " We signed a contract. Hey, -- wait, let me see that script again, I would not fu-fricking say that,"

Harley just wants to know who she needs to bribe so Wild Card and Crimson Thorn end up together,

" Dickie, I love ya, but I do NOT wanna spend more time around Jack than I need to and its a reach at this point,--"

"Jester!"

" Yeah, Jester, -- And I wouldn't laugh, Ed, you're such a Redditor in this,"

Kon frowns, " What's a redditor? Dad doesn't let me get it. He says it's for dark, confused souls."

Clark, very brightly, " And that's why I got casted as Super Lad and they didn't!"

Talia, who just came to pick Damian and Jon up for their trip at the craft store since Selina just CAN'T allow Feline to walk around in a blanket dress, asks how the Knight is coming along, " Baba would like to re audition,"

Dick crosses his arms, glaring when Jason copies him as ALWAYS,

" There's no one scary enough for the Knight yet."

Jason stomps his foot, " He's not scary, Dickie! He's brave and kind and punches real hard!"

"Why not ask your daddy?"

" Psht. Tati's not scary.''

Bruce in a pink apron and cat mittens, holding a tray of skull shaped cookies, " I can be scary!...Or get Alfred to teach me. He's good at scary."

" Not only that, -- we can't decide who the love interest for The Knight should be!"

Jason flaps his overgrown sweater paws in clear distress. Tim coos and pats his arm, but Jason hasn't forgiven him for taking the Red Falcon role.

" Do any of you,--"

Everyone apart from Harley and Ivy practically jump on Jason, "ME,"

[coqxettee]

Coquette Spring

Romanticizing my Spring 🌸

Spring has been so peaceful so far. I spend my mornings reading, doing yoga, journaling in bed and eating a light breakfast whilst looking out my cottage window at the birds and wildlife that come into my garden ♡

Only wearing the sweetest of colors for my cotton candy aura, baby pinks and blue’s that radiate Spring time. Pink gingham, denim shorts, floral dresses, milkmaid dresses and jelly sandals with frilly socks to give into my inner child ♡

Wearing my baby pink, heart shaped sunglasses now the sun is making it’s way here ♡

Coating myself in sugary, vanilla, floral body sprays and perfumes for Spring. Marc Jacob’s Daisy & Miss Dior ♡

Watching cartoons or reading fairytales in the garden, and imagining what life would be like if I was whisked away into the fairy stories I read about ♡

Walking up to the local shop and listen to “Lana del rey” to stock up on lollipops and bubblegum, the perfect sweets for this time of year ♡

Picking out a cute outfit to go to the market. The markets are on every weekend and I love when the sun is shining and I can find a quiet spot under a tree at the market, to read or write in my diary ♡

Baking heart shaped cookies, or cakes with sugary-sweet icing for my family to enjoy, whilst listening to vintage music in the kitchen, and wearing a sweet little apron. All the pastel baking utensils too! Ahhhh! ♡

Collecting heart shaped plates, mugs and cups, pretty picture frames and vintage things to adorn my country kitchen with ♡

Hanging out my nightgowns and pretty Spring dresses in the garden to dry, makes my country cottage garden even more beautiful ♡

Eating strawberries and cream lollipops whilst flicking through my vintage magazines on my bed, and swooning over all the handsome actors in them ♡

Long Spring evening walks, then coming home in the garden and making flower crowns and daisy chains ♡

Trips to the garden centre on sunny days, wearing a cute outfit and taking my tote bag, drinking lemonade in the cute cafe and having girly, gossip chats with my mum. Looking at all the cottage core accessories in the gift shop and going to the indoor market afterwards to buy fresh fruit and Vegetables ♡

Light Spring meals of fruits and vegetables that I’ve picked out at the garden centre that day ♡

Coming home in the evening to watch “Bridgerton” and play board games with my family ♡

Eating ice lolly’s on particularly sunny days and writing in my journal at my vanity ♡

Wearing coconut body lotion and rose scented hand cream to stay the sweetest girl in town ♡

Buying fresh bunches of flowers to put in my cottage and in my bedroom, so everywhere smells sweet and delightful ♡

Splashing in puddles on really rainy days, dancing in the rain with my pink raincoat and catching raindrops on my tongue ♡

Running about the garden in my pink milkmaid dress, going to the local farm to see the alpacas and chickens ♡

Feeling like a Spring woodland fairy, trying to spot wild deer and bunny’s in my local wood ♡

Having Picnics and Tea Party’s with extra special treats. Sugary biscuits and fruity tea’s to feel like Marie Antoinette ♡

Pretty baby pink or yellow manicure. Light colored nails for this time of year ♡

Painting watercolors and doing Spring crafts as the nights draw out and the days get longer ♡

Fuzzy socks, warm cups of tea and Disney movies in the evenings. Bambi, Cinderella and Sleeping beauty ♡

Collecting Sylvanian families to put in my little doll house in my bedroom. I’m growing my collection hehe ♡

[justgarb]

Bargain fabric bin for the win! Two rectangles and two trianges (gores) sew together into:

A flared tube

Found a thread so closely matched that these whip stitches are near invisible. This will provide a stretch stitch on the rolled hem because this is a knit fabric, and will allow it to stretch with her as she grows. I've used a bias tape on the seams to provide a bit of structure. I have no idea how this is going to turn out as it's my first apron dress. YOLO etc.

Shoulder strap time. I've sewn the knit fabric onto cotton strips top inside) to prevent stretching/provide structure. I'm rolling the excess and securing it with a hidden stitch (bottom right)

And there it is: a threenager size hangerok/apron dress (brooches for effect), approx 22 inches from hem to hem not counting straps. Material cost is less than 10usd in fabric. Now to work on an apron panel for the front and maybe some beads.

[msweebyness]

Akuma and Theater Class Father’s Day Plans

Here’s what the akuma and theater kids did with their dads on this fine holiday! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Marinette sewed Tom a fancy new apron since he outgrew his old one, and made him his favorite macarons

Adrien got Gabriel a nice card and new tie, and then had to do a photo shoot

Alya, Nora and the twins made dinner for Otis and they spent the evening watching wildlife documentaries

Nino and Chris took Antoine to his favorite karaoke bar, they got dinner and the three did a few songs together

Chloe took Andre out for a fancy lunch and bought him an expensive new watch

Rose and Jasper had an all-day Disney movie marathon, eating more ice cream than should be humanly possible

Juleka and Luka had a jam session with Jagged and then they crashed at his place and watched old horror movies

Max spent the day helping Darius with programming and made him a special digital card with a slideshow of pictures of the two of them

Kim and his sisters took Lanh to a futbol game, and went to see a double feature at the movie theater with Etienne

Alix and Jalil took Alim to see an exhibition of some newly discovered Egyptian artifacts and took him to get Arabic for dinner at one of his favorite restaurants

Mylene spent the whole week with Fred, seeing his favorite plays and just spending time together (Jesse came with them a few times, since Fred is like a dad to him)

Ivan wrote a poem for Iosif in Russian and helped Sasha make him a card, and they took him out for dinner

Sabrina and Roger went for a father-daughter mini road trip to one of their favorite hiking spots

Missy and Axel went on a bike ride around Paris and got burgers with a crap ton of fries

Ayesha taught a parent-child yoga session with Kurt at his studio and created an animation of all the reasons her dad is awesome

Dot and Dolores took Orenthal out for dinner and bought him some new cuff links

Anais and Quentin spent the day walking around Paris just doing whatever, before playing a trivia game before bed

Petra painted a family mural of herself and their dads for the living room and took them all out for lunch

Roxie bought Richard a nice new guitar case and took him to one of his favorite hard rock bars

Anthony took Bradley to one of his favorite tea houses and they stocked up on his favorite brews, before having an intense father-son foosball tournament

Eri and Ryuji took Hiroshi to a comic book convention and binge watched one of his favorite anime with him all night

Candace and her stepbrothers took Laurent antiquing at a few thrift places and they found some good stuff

Soo-Yeon took Eun-Jeong to a basketball game and they played one-on-one in the backyard when they got home

Margo knitted Leif some new sweaters and the two spent the afternoon making all sorts of craft projects

Staci and Bai went out for tea and then took a boat ride for some people watching over the Seine

Parker and Levi took Chief, Sarge and Boone to a dog park for the day and then did some father-daughter military training courses

Aggie spent the day helping Rohan out at the shop, and then they had a movie marathon and pigged out on junk food

Mona and Dolores took Darnell out for a picnic while they were showing one of his favorite movies in a park theater

Evie wrote and performed a new song for Julio and took him out to dinner at his favorite traditional Mexican restaurant

Happy Father’s Day to all the awesome dads out there, which includes mine! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[searchingforserendipity25]

Sorry I have another one if you want :) Míriel and 'old and forgetton'

thank you for the asks @theworldisquietheretooquiet! got míriel-brain disease and ended up finishing this one first <3

the usual míriel & descendants warnings apply. 1458 words.

-

Labours of the Living

Finwë found her hidden away, in the alcove she retreated to when her own working rooms were grown tiresome to her eyes. 

It did not surprise Míriel. Finwë had always had a talent for finding her, a skill honed through many years; even, and most particularly, when Míriel sought an escape. He loved her too well to want her lonesome, and knew her to well to think she should always be given her way in living engrossed in her work.

“My lady, my bright lady, here I find you at last,” he said, and came upon the secret curve of the staircase like a vision of himself. Míriel saw him as he was, tall and well-braided, the darkness of his eyes gleaming for her in the light of the high window; for a moment a stranger, a new and beloved thing.

Underneath the heartbeat of her own breast another one jumped, calling to her, thrilled at the sight. 

Your father, she told her child, agreeing. Let one of them delight in the world and in Finwë particularly, when she was too weary for it. That was what children were for, joy-making and living stores of joy - so she was told. Your high-hearted father, who shall love you better than all things. 

Finwë loved her so well. Nearly as much as the promise of their child; a curious loss of preeminence for Míriel, who understood him perfectly. 

“Such hurry, my lady,” Finwë-king teased, jumping up the steps around one pyramid of bolts of brocade like he had when jumping the lake-stone path over the waters of Cuiviénen to visit the dwellings of Míriel, where she had kept her wild goats and first mastered the spindle. “That is princely garment that you have wrought lately, for a prince in many ages.”

“Or many princes, of many ages,” said Míriel. 

She looked down at her hand upon the needle, the brilliant floss strung through, the hoop in her lap and the organized disorder of fabrics around her and that same strangeness rose like sea-sickness, the hungry thing inside her restless and small, wanting always to know, know, know what it saw through her eyes. 

It wearied her spirit. And the flesh was weary enough as was. It had been a great deal of baskets and bolts of fabric to carry, even if it was but a fraction of what she was working upon; and she was weary still after the climb, though Telperion’s light upon the window beside her had fractured in many changing angles since first she arrived. She had lost precious time with it; the child delighted in the spectrum of it, and her eyes, too, were passionate about colour, heavy enough to grow distracted.

 Míriel of the needle with her strong will distracted from her craft! It had not happened before, even when she had been wounded, cold and famished; it happened far too often now. Much had grown tiresome to Míriel, as her child rounded her belly, her most ambitious project kicking at her bowels and sending her constant reveries of strong, flashing impressions. 

She made a wardrobe entire: court robes and sturdy traveling layers knitted in complicated patterns, thin shifts for sleep of beautifully embroidered satin. Hats in fashion not yet invented, caps and veils and nets, stitched with golden coins and intricate lacework in gold-thread. Aprons of leather-work, embossed so a distracted craftsman might pass his fingertips over the designs as they thought. 

The flaming of a poppy, and the blossoming of a new flame; the sweet purple-reds of the bougainvillea. Linen, velvet, brocade and samite, all of it red, and red, and more red. Her child saw nothing else, in the haven of her womb; that was all it knew to love. Míriel found many variety of it among the fabrics of her stores, dyed others, to her own perfect demands. 

Not easy, to stand before the vats with the shifting paddles, moving cotton in water with heavy, forceful arms; and less so, when her ankles so ached and her back complained. Her shoulders ached still after the long labour of her early pregnancy. But Míriel would have no aid, nor even from her best apprentices. She had a reverie in mind, a dream that was no dream, the crafter’s perfect vision of the work to finish; and she meant for it to be impeccable, for it to last. 

Her king knelt before her on the cold harshness of the stone, and kissed her hands affectionately, peering down to look at the work on the hoop. 

“That shall certainly be marvelous,” Finwë agreed,  “Many marvels for our children shall come from your hand; yet, Míriel, do not forego sleep for it! Thou art crafting many masterpieces at once.”

His smile was knowing, tender around the eyes. It suited him: the care he took with his lady, the last light before the Mingling curling around the stay hairs that escaped his crown. Prickly, goading and laughing and bold and full of wonder like a self-sustaining and warming fire: that was as she liked him best, the chieftain and the craftsmen she loved, her old friend from the old world. 

Never had she resented him any softness, nothing of the gentleness that was in him. It had been pleasure, at first, how swiftly he nurtured it, beside his eagerness for the widening of their close and secretive family, the dear circle of their arms around one another; but she could not return it. 

So much of Tírion-upon-Tuna was made exactly to his liking, from the materials he thought best, arranged in the angles of his thinking. Míriel loved the city so well. It was not Tírion’s fault Míriel was too weary to stomach the sight of it well, nor her husband’s tenderness. 

She took his hands, that he might feel the child kicking inside her; and then took them, so he might help her down the steep path of her own devising. 

-

Fëanáro’s rooms had gathered dust for many Ages, when at last Míriel returned to life, committed again to life. He had taken much with himself on his exile to the far northern fortress of Formenos, and among his many works and treasures had been the full collection of Míriel’s works: all his wardrobe, what of it had not been passed on to his sons as they grew. 

Míriel knew this: she had woven him garbed with the long tunics of her own make, raising a torch and declaring a fell promise, his sons arrayed around him likewise: in capes, and hats, and embroidered robes of rich, blood-dark crimson. She did not look for her son in the apartments where he had been young and unhappy, nor the rooms set aside for the children he begot in love - did not open drawers, or press her mouth against worn fabrics made into paler shades by layers of dust through the Ages. 

Nothing remained. He was not loved now, her son; the rooms were barred and barren, so they might not be destroyed in wrathful grief by the righteous.  

The palace of Tírion was much changed. There were rooms enclosed and airless, like the chambers and cairns of stone where the dead had been buried on the journey out of Cuiviénen. There was Indis’ hand in the leveling of high stone walls and the raising of galleries crowned and surrounded in glass; Indis’ hand who had drawn the mezzanines, and decided on the colour of upholstery, the design of the candlesticks. 

And Finwë, in all things Finwë’s fondness for soft fabrics and bold colours, his liking for meadows with many moss-covered boulders set together for conversation matured into a tendency for low tables, and vast rooms with many seats.

 Míriel’s own marks remained, for they had been made to endure unseen: curling staircases; cunning doorways, alcoves with stained glass windows and a seat carved into the parapet, the sort of places a distracted broideress might retreat to work. 

Some of the places had been plainly found. Childish, painstaking scratches lined the windowsills, tengwar in a faltering fashion, still inventing itself, scratching the first attempts. A quiet place, made in ancient times. 

How young she had felt, sketching the project of it upon Finwë’s blueprints! Old, and forgotten; for no children ran now, joyful or wretched, through the secret hallways of Tírion’s great palace. 

There and only then did Míriel raise her hand to lay over her belly, which had so shuddering with life when last she stood in her quiet hideout; only then did she weep, Þerindë of the needle, as her child had wept in secret against the sleeves she had dyed and sewn and embroidered with the last of her last life. 

[omnivorousshipper]

Got any abo mpreg but with omega Luke (my beloved)? (ps love seeing your username pop up in my ao3 alert emails) <3

😭😭😭 🥰🥰🥰 awwww thank you!!! I'm def trying to write more before school starts up again, so I hope I can keep popping up in your emails lol!

Also, mpreg Luke isn't my usual cup of tea, but the idea of Deckard being so fucking doting on a pregnant Luke is too adorable not to write

~~~

Sitting at his desk, Luke continued to work on his latest case but could feel the odd feeling of a foot hitting against his organs. Huffing, he rested a hand on his larger stomach.

He was seven months pregnant and the baby was trying to show off the Shaw genes of kicking they had inherited. Deckard had told him he was lucky not to have twins, since they were common in the Shaw family.

Luke didn't count himself lucky since the baby was most likely to inherit the Hobbs trait of being on the larger side.

However, this pregnancy was going a lot smoother than Sam's had been. He had been so sick while carrying her and his ex-wife had been useless in comforting him during it.

Deckard was the complete opposite.

During Luke's heats, Deckard was the most caring partner Luke had ever been with. Before Luke even knew what he needed, Deckard was there.

Not only was he an amazing cook, but he was extremely cuddly. He was constantly shoving himself into Luke's side and wrapping an arm around him.

At first, Luke had assumed Deckard was simply acting like other alphas and trying to cover him in his scent. But no, Deckard only wanted to be close to him.

When he did scent him, he'd always ask permission before getting on his tiptoes and gently rubbing his nose against Luke's scent gland.

Deckard had only gotten more touchy now that Luke was pregnant.

The moment Luke had told Deckard he was pregnant, he was sure Deckard was going to explode from excitement.

He had nearly pounced on Luke, kissing his face all over and thanking him for giving him a baby.

Deckard was made to be a parent, and there was nobody else Luke wanted to be the other parent to his children. It was rare to find an alpha that was so willing to take in a child that wasn't there's and truly love them like their own.

Deckard had fallen in love with Sam the moment he had met her.

And Luke knew instinctively that Deckard wouldn't treat her any different when their new baby arrived.

Sighing to himself, Luke looked down at his belly and smiled.

"You got lucky, kid. Not only is Deck your parent, but you have some scary uncles and aunts."

Luke knew exactly how loving and protective his own family where, so he wasn't worried about his children feeling lonely or helpless.

However, now his kids would have Owen and Hattie as overly protective family.

At first, Luke had worried Owen and Hattie would treat him differently when he became Deckard's mate, but that was far from true.

Yes, they had become increasingly more protective of him, but they were still the annoying in-laws that loved to poke at him.

He had been worried that the three Alpha Shaw siblings would have treated him like some trophy omega when he agreed to become mates with Deckard.

The Shaws were always full of surprises.

"Everything ok, love?"

Blinking, Luke looked up from his belly and saw Deckard standing in the doorway to his office.

Ever since Luke had started working at home, Deckard had taken the opportunity to spoil him. Luke had to put his foot down and demanded to be left alone when working, which Deckard had agreed to.

But only if he could interrupt during mealtimes.

True to his word, Deckard was holding a plate of beautiful crafted sandwiches with a variety of fruits on the side. He was wearing the apron Sam had gotten him for Christmas.

"I'm good. They're just kicking up a storm."

Deckard hummed as he entered the office completely. Placing the plate on the desk, he came around to stand next to Luke.

"Do you want to take a break?" Deckard looked at him earnestly.

"I'm fine, Deck. I still have a lot a want to finish today."

"Fine," he huffed, leaning down to brush his lips against Luke's. Without hesitation, Luke closed the gap and sealed their lips together.

Luke knew exactly what Deckard was doing, but he didn't care in the least as he felt the alpha moan into his mouth.

Smirking, maybe Luke could take a quick break.

[passcode58]

꧁༒𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼༒꧂

zhongli, childe, wanderer, al haitham, tighnari

꧁༒𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼༒꧂

fluff, domestic, implied relationship, tbh even if they're not in a relationship it can be casual, kisses , slight suggestiveness

Genshin Christmas Scenarios

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ ° *. * ·

"The Wanderer's first Christmas." 

"This is the dumbest shit I've ever heard of." 

Not so keen on bringing in that 'Holiday Cheer.' He doesn't even know what the purpose of this silly holiday is. He just sees a bunch of people and noise in the streets. Obnoxious colours too, streamers and owes, wreaths and decorated trees, humans were so weird.

"So you just waste money on meaningless gifts?" His arms are crossed, brows furrowed in disinterest as his eyes danced from one stall to the other. He closes his eyes and lets out a long dramatic sigh. It was to be expected, thoughT. This was his first time being introduced to the holiday, at least that's what you think. You couldn't be sure as to whether the Fatui celebrated.even so you couldn't imagine him being too keen on participating but at  least he gave you a chance, although he looked disinterested. 

"They're not meaningless, they're things people like." You corrected.

"Right…" He rolled his eyes, sputtering out more insults. That is until he heard a child in the distance.

"Oh yes! Mother will love this!" The young boy yelled happily. He observed the interaction between the old vendor and the child, somehow their warm smiles caught his interest. The way they both glowed, one happy to buy and one happy to sell. "Your mother is very lucky to have an amazing son like you, so thoughtful."

"Aww, thanks grandpa! Mother is ill but I knew she wanted this for a long time…I'm just so happy you saved it for me."

"I saw determination in your eyes, young man. I knew you would be able to save for it, and here we are." 

The boys eyes watered, as he held the gift in his hand. To you it may have been insignificant but in his eyes it meant the world. It was hope for his mother, a gift to show her that he cared. 

You explain to The Wanderer, the deeper meaning behind gift giving. It means appreciation, it shows love, it's the opportunity to surprise your cherished ones with things that mean a lot to them. It was then he finally opened his ears and heart, although he claimed to not have one his actions proved different. He observed you throughout the trip, and when he noticed you staring at something in particular for too long, he chastised and mocked you with the plan of returning to get it for you himself. 

Once the moon turned and the sun came up bright you noticed something under your tree. It was a gift. 

"It's so stupid I thought you might like it…since you seem to gravitate towards stupid things." 

What he didn't expect in return however, was a gift of your own. Out of pure electro and Inazuman ore, you had a heart crafted for him. You hung it around his neck, letting it fall onto his chest. His heart didn't beat yet he felt his breath shorten, he felt a construction, he felt…what did he feel? You drew him in, with that beautiful smile of yours and he couldn't fight against it.

"You foolish humans." He said, yet his eyes betrayed him. He let his hands ghost over it before he leaned forward. It was sudden but he pressed a kiss to your cheek before he dragged you over to the tree where he forced you to open the other gifts he got, which I might add, was a lot.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ ° *. * ·

"Tartaglia."

Childe could not take his hands off of you. He was a Christmas fool if you've ever seen one. The season just gets him in the romantic and jolly mood. From the moment you exited the guest bedroom of his home he greeted you with a hug, wrapped in an apron and a silly little hat. He had the biggest grin on his face, freckles twinkling under the light.

"What are you even wearing?" You inquired, utterly baffled. 

"Well, Merry Christmas to you too." he said sarcastically. 

The two of you took a moment before you erupted into a fit of gentle laughter. You hugged him back, and he smiled. The chilly air drifted through the windows, caressing your appled cheeks as he guided you to the kitchen where a feast lay on the table. Every single food imaginable is there. A whole roasted boar, he really did too much but you appreciated every bit of it. "Oh Ajax…You are too much." 

"Every part of me yearns to be the most and the best for you, (Y/n)."

Truthfully it was difficult for him to spend Holidays away from his family but the sea was frozen solid, there was no way for him to return home with you, but honestly this wasn't bad either. He loved spending time with you. Yes he'd rather have his sibling dragging you through the house to play games, and share traditions but it was okay. That just means next year will be better.

Not to mention— 

"Tartaglia?"

Gifts were sprawled out across the entire living room, space drowned out with expensive and elegantly wrapped boxes. Gold, green, red, white there was so much colour your eyes couldn't focus on one alone. Your eyes watered, heartbeat accelerating at the thought of how much time and effort he put into this. 

"I honestly don't even know what to say. This is inane, really. Why would you even do this for me?" 

"I'd go to the abyss and back for you, angel. I love you more than anything else, you know that." He approached with his heartwarming smile. A gentle gaze in his ocean blue eyes. He had lost his shine years ago, buried deep within the life consuming darkness. Yet even so, with all the darkness in him Tartaglia probed to be a more than worthy lover and a true man of heart. It took time to forgive him for his betrayal but he took his time and proved himself to be a worthy thief. The man who stole your heart.

His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back into a warm and tender embrace, he kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear.

"This isn't the last of it Princess."

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ ° *. * ·

"Tighnari."

Christmas with Tighnari, oh boy you're so lucky. He won't admit it but he does love Christmas.

Cuddling galore. 

Honestly, he thought it would be cute to set up a tent outside the Serenitea pot, surrounded by a garden of beautiful flowers and fauna. You had a campfire lit, silly pyjamas on the wind was chilly enough for you both to keep warm but not hot.

He was so beautiful, it was a treasure to have him so close. You combed through his hair, baking in the ambiance. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. The others were busy cooking up a storm in the teapot, but the both of you were content with being alone.

"If you want to touch my ears, you are always welcome." he said.

"My sweet, is this your war of asking me to?"

"Yes, it is." 

"Consider it done." He closed his eyes as he rambled about his traditions, the both of you laughed occasionally as he spoke of all the funny things such as the 'Mushrooms' he received as a gift one year from an inexperienced forester. His ears passed beneath your fingers melting under your touch.

"It would have been nice to spend it with my family but…my twin isn't here." The thought of being with him consumed your mind day by day. It was hard, harder than one would think. To survive in such a brutal world without your loved one. 

Noticing that your mood saddened Tighnari sighed. "Cheer up you goof," he sat up and leaned forward. Your breath was stolen away by his fiery gaze. The stars, you think, couldn't ever compare to the twinkle in his eyes. His hand cupped your cheek, fingers brushing along the length of your jaw to chin. "You will find him, and until then, you have us…always."

"Tighnari…"

His words were great but his gifts were equally as amazing. He brought you an assortment of plants for your teapot, as well as local delicacies and trinkets from Sumeru. He laid them out in a hidden area, decorated by lanterns. He guided you through them, explaining each one.

"This one here is a rare pyro wildflower, so take care of it okay? It has healing properties and resonates with elemental energy."

It glimmered, alms it like a sign of hope. Each metal with a comforting warmth, almost like home. Like your home, your twin. 

"How did you even find this?"

"I know a spot or two."

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ ° *. * ·

Al Haitham 

We know he's loaded, this man is your sugar daddy at this point. Sugar daddy with a crabby arrogant attitude and a body to kill. The moment you wake-up it's scented candles, a trail of roses and a heap of gifts. Oh what money can buy. He's an ass but he knows what he's doing. He knows how to get a girl and treat her right. 

Not going to lie, he had you feeling a kinda way. Everything was so expertly done,  details down to a tea. The flowery trail lead you to the living room compartment of his executive suite and to his room. There you slid the door open and he's in bed in all his glory—and there's a lot of glory let me tell you. Hand folded behind his head with a book in the other hand on his bare chest. You just about drink in his form before an eye is lifted and a smirk settles upon his lips. It's sultry but deliciously so. 

"Oh, so you're finally awake?" he says.

"I am." You said simply, hands twiddling with the silk of your thin sleeping gown. He hummed before turning his attention back to the book. Very Al Haitham of him, to be very honest. Shaking your head, you made your way over to sit at the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss him, directly on his plump, rosy lips, running your hands through his hair to brush it out of his delicate face. "You're fucking unbelievable." You said breathlessly, in between kisses. You slid your fingers down his chest and hooked your legs over his body. He groaned softly, and you plucked the book out of his hand, dropping it at the side. All of this just for you, how could you not love it. "Not really, this is the least I could do after you literally saved Sumeru, hero." 

His teasing response made you smile, but at this point you didn't want to get off of him, not even to open gifts or indulge in the breakfast he prepared. You, quite frankly, wanted him.

"Breakfast will get cold."

"Maybe…but." you rocked your hips forward, capturing his mouth once again, slowly…dragging the kiss out as you tasted every inch of his mouth. "Fuck, (Y/n)..." You held onto his wrist, pinning it above his head with your other hand as you trailed over his skin. When you finally let his mouth go, his lips were swollen, you could imagine yours were too. Of course this wasn't enough though. You craved this man, every inch of him. Leaning forward you tilted your head, hair falling forward as you whispered with clouded eyes "You look so hot in bed…I just might have you instead." 

…..

Breakfast wasn't cold, he had it stay warm with a pyro slime residue heater. You were glad, because it helped preserve the fresh taste and flavour. Once breakfast was finished you helped each other clean up, the task was done swiftly. Then it came to one of the best parts.

"Are you ready to open gifts?"

"I am."

You two exchanged gifts, he had much more to give of course but you gave him a fair share of rare books found from ancient ruins across Teyvat which he seemed to be fascinated by. 

Each gift from him, an expensive gem, gold, trinkets and clothes from Sumeru. 

When everything was unwrapped the both of you cuddled on the couch before setting off to enjoy the festivals and festivities together. It's beautiful, really.

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"Zhongli."

He's broke. Everything was purchased with Tartaglia's money, funnily enough the harbinger didn't even mind. He is quite the Christmas buggy.

"Why don't you just get her the entire stall?"

"That might be a bit too much, don't you think, Tartaglia?"

"Well it's not like you're paying anyways." He rolls his eyes, fair point tho. Just this time, he buys the entire stall. They are traditional Liyuen Jewellery inspired by the post adept era. Very beautiful, he thinks. Each a colour that represents an adeptus in the shape and design of their assigned animal and element. They were wrapped in coils and precious gems. Costly, of course which is why the stall was practically empty, at least until Childe drained it of all things.

It was sweet of him, but he was very traditional and preferred intimate acts such as spending time together. He asked you to stay the night, this night in particular he wanted to let in bed and gaze at the stars through the window, enjoying the refreshing air of the chill night. You woke up in his arms of course. His gentle eyes, void of the harshness of his old form. His fingers grazed your cheek, geo glow leaving a tingly feeling on your skin.

""Good morning, my love." so deep and mellow, you could drown in his honey dipped tone. Hair loose, it pooled around him like water, smooth and silky. He was beautiful.

"Good morning, Zhongli. Merry Christmas."

"Ah yes, Merry Christms to you too."

He showered you with kisses of course. He spoke sweet words of affirmation telling the story of how he fell in love with you. He picked you up bridal style, and carried you to the dining room, of course where expensive dishes adorned your dining table.

He's not excessive. Zhongli buys a few things with deep, treasured meaning. He knows you love history he would find anything of his or another, something that represented Rex laps, a being he was no more.

Then he would take you on a stroll through Liyue, the air as crisp and clean as ever, stalls crowded with people. He holds you close, attention never drifting. When it all comes to an end he takes you to a secluded place, one that is intimate. You share a spectacular moment, and when the fireworks go off, you don't hold back. Once your lips touch his, the sparks fly and you don't let go until the night is done.

Dinner reservations were a bit late but it was worth it. He had you all to himself, in the seat next to him. He held your hand, pressing his lips to your tender wrist, nipping at the appendages. He was Zhongli but some habits still remained. 

"To another cherished year of life and love. You, my dear, are my greatest treasure and I am honoured to celebrate this Christmas with you."

:*˚:✧｡ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ ° *. * ·