#dry fruit tray

[nibblesgifts]

Nibbles & Nuts Dry Fruit Wicker Tray

The Nibbles & Nuts Wicker Tray is a beautifully crafted, rustic tray designed to elevate your snacking experience. Made from high-quality wicker, it offers a charming and eco-friendly way to serve a variety of snacks, nuts, fruits, or treats. With its natural, woven design, it adds a touch of warmth and style to any setting, perfect for gatherings, picnics, or simply enjoying a cozy snack at home. Durable and versatile, this tray is both functional and decorative, making it a great addition to your kitchen or dining area.

[duskylory11]

What Makes a High-Quality Dry Fruit Tray? Key Factors to Consider

Dry fruits are a beloved snack choice, both for their flavor and their numerous health benefits. Whether you’re purchasing a dry fruit tray for personal enjoyment, as a thoughtful gift, or for a festive occasion, choosing a high-quality tray ensures that you're getting the best in both taste and nutrition. However, with so many options available, knowing how to identify a premium dry fruit tray can be a bit tricky. This article will help you understand what makes a dry fruit tray stand out in terms of quality.

1. Visual Appeal and Freshness

One of the most important qualities in any dry fruit tray is the freshness of the fruits and nuts inside. Fresh dry fruits have a lively color and natural sheen, which indicates that they haven’t been sitting on the shelf for too long. For example, fresh almonds should be smooth and have a slight gloss, while raisins should look plump, not shrunken or hard. Cashews should appear creamy, not dull or overly dry.

When inspecting a tray, check for any visible signs of dryness or discoloration. The best dry fruit trays will feature fruits and nuts that look appetizing and fresh. Items that appear overly shriveled, discolored, or powdery could be indicators of aging or poor storage conditions, which can affect both taste and nutrition.

2. A Balanced Assortment

Variety is another hallmark of a high-quality dry fruit tray. A thoughtfully assembled tray will include a selection of nuts, dried fruits, and sometimes seeds, offering a range of textures and flavors. A well-balanced assortment might include:

Almonds: Known for their crunch and high levels of vitamin E and protein.

Cashews: Soft, buttery nuts rich in minerals like magnesium and copper.

Pistachios: Small, green nuts that are both delicious and a great source of fiber and healthy fats.

Walnuts: With their slightly bitter taste, walnuts are full of omega-3 fatty acids and antioxidants.

Raisins or Sultanas: Naturally sweet, raisins are packed with iron and provide a chewy contrast to crunchy nuts.

Dried figs or apricots: These provide a chewy, slightly tangy sweetness and are full of fiber and vitamins.

A diverse mix in the tray ensures that there’s something for everyone, and it also enhances the visual appeal of the tray. Premium trays often contain unique or exotic fruits like dried mango, pineapple, or even cranberries, making the assortment more special.

3. Quality Packaging

Presentation plays a big role when selecting a dry fruit tray, especially if it's intended as a gift. High-quality trays often come in elegant packaging that not only looks great but also preserves the freshness of the contents. Look for trays with secure seals or airtight containers, which keep moisture and contaminants out while maintaining the crunchiness and flavor of the nuts and fruits.

Some trays come in reusable boxes or eco-friendly packaging, which can be an added bonus if you’re looking for something environmentally conscious. The packaging should also be sturdy enough to prevent damage during transport or handling, ensuring the items inside remain intact and in perfect condition.

4. Free from Additives and Preservatives

One key indicator of quality in dry fruit trays is the absence of artificial additives. Ideally, the fruits and nuts in the tray should be as close to their natural state as possible, without added sugars, oils, or preservatives. Many cheaper trays include fruits coated in sugar or nuts that have been roasted in unhealthy oils, which diminishes both their taste and nutritional value.

A healthier, high-quality tray will feature raw or minimally processed items. If you’re particularly health-conscious, look for organic dry fruit trays. Organic products are grown without synthetic pesticides or fertilizers, making them a safer and more natural option.

5. Nutritional Content

Dry fruits are known for their dense nutritional value, so a good tray should provide a rich source of vitamins, minerals, fiber, and healthy fats. Different types of nuts and dried fruits offer unique health benefits. For example, almonds are high in vitamin E, which is good for the skin, while walnuts are rich in omega-3 fatty acids, which support heart health.

Dates and raisins offer natural sugars that provide quick energy, making them great for a healthy snack. However, beware of trays that include heavily processed fruits with added sugars or syrups, as these can negate the health benefits that dry fruits typically provide.

6. Ethical Sourcing and Sustainability

In recent years, many consumers have become more conscious of where their food comes from. If sustainability and ethics are important to you, consider the source of the dry fruits in the tray. Some companies ensure their products are ethically sourced, which can mean anything from fair-trade practices for workers to sustainable farming methods that minimize environmental impact.

High-quality dry fruit trays may also highlight the region where the products come from. For instance, some of the best almonds come from California, and top-quality dates may come from the Middle East. Knowing where your food is sourced can give you greater confidence in its quality and freshness.

7. Value for Money

Finally, while it’s tempting to go for the cheapest option, when it comes to dry fruit trays, you often get what you pay for. High-quality dry fruits tend to cost more because of their nutritional value, freshness, and better sourcing practices. When evaluating value, consider not only the quantity of fruit and nuts but also their quality. A tray that’s packed with premium selections is worth the investment, especially if you’re buying it for a special occasion or as a gift.

Conclusion

A high-quality dry fruit tray is not only a treat for the palate but also a smart choice for your health. By paying attention to factors like freshness, variety, packaging, and ethical sourcing, you can ensure that you’re selecting a tray that’s worth the price. Whether it’s for yourself or for a loved one, choosing a premium dry fruit tray guarantees a mix of delicious flavors, textures, and nutritional benefits that are sure to satisfy.

[rahultistabene]

Elegant Tray Sets for Your Home Décor

Discover elegant tray sets that elevate your home décor. From modern to classic designs, find the perfect set for any room. Browse our collection today!

[gtagiftbasket]

Gift Basket Hacks: Elevate Your Dry Fruit Presentation

Dry fruits are a healthy and delicious gift option, perfect for any occasion. But let's face it, a bag of prunes doesn't exactly scream "festive." Fear not, gifting guru! With a few clever hacks, you can transform your dry fruit selection into a show-stopping centerpiece in any gift basket.

Preparation is Key:

Visual Appeal: Sort your dry fruits by color and size. Apricots, golden raisins, and cashews will create a vibrant mix, while darker fruits like prunes and dates can be arranged for contrast.

Freshen Up: If your dried fruits seem a little dull, a quick refresh can make a big difference. Plump raisins by soaking them in a little rum or orange juice for 15 minutes. Apricots and mangoes can benefit from a light dusting of edible glitter for a touch of sparkle.

Container Creativity:

Ditch the Bag: Skip the boring plastic bags that come with store-bought dried fruits. Opt for clear cellophane bags or small decorative boxes. These allow the vibrant colors to shine through and add a touch of elegance.

Layer it Up: Create visual interest by layering different colored fruits in your container. Start with a base of a darker fruit like prunes, followed by a layer of golden raisins, and top it off with vibrant apricots or cranberries.

Think Outside the Box (Literally): Don't limit yourself to traditional baskets. Mason jars, decorative tins, or even beautiful mugs can be transformed into unique and reusable containers.

Sweet Additions:

Chocolate Drizzle: For a touch of indulgence, melt some dark chocolate and drizzle it over your arranged dry fruits. This adds a luxurious element and makes them even more irresistible.

Nutty Nachbarn: Complement your dried fruits with a selection of roasted nuts. Almonds, pistachios, and pecans add a delightful textural contrast and a touch of healthy fat.

Spice it Up: For an extra flavor boost, sprinkle a touch of ground cinnamon, nutmeg, or even a pinch of chili flakes over your display.

Edible Flowers: For a truly show-stopping presentation, consider adding a few edible flowers like pansies or violets. These add a touch of whimsy and sophistication.

Presentation Perfection:

The Finishing Touch: Don't forget the finishing touches! Tie a colorful ribbon around the container or add a decorative pick for a festive touch.

Personalize it: For an extra special touch, consider adding a handwritten card with a heartfelt message or the recipient's initials made from dried fruit slices.

Bonus Tip: If you're feeling extra crafty, line the bottom of your container with shredded colored paper or crinkled tissue for an extra pop of color and visual interest.

With these simple hacks, your dry fruits will go from ordinary to extraordinary. So, the next time you're looking for a thoughtful and healthy gift, consider a beautifully presented dry fruit arrangement. It's sure to leave a lasting impression!

[giftdubaionline]

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID The Holy Month of Ramadan is one of the most significant months in the Islamic timetable This is a special time that brings families and communities closer together. It’s a Tradition to bring gifts similar as food and incense to a host’s home as an act of love, Kindness, and Respect. The end of Ramadan is the launch of Eid Al Fitr, which means the ‘jubilee of breaking the fast ’. The stylish occasion of Eid makes sure everyone from associates and musketeers and extended family members exchanges gifts to partake in their gratefulness. Gifting is an important tradition in Arabia, recognizing close bonds and strong connections. According to Islamic Book, Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) would frequently give and admit gifts of incense, beast, apparel, and especially food, which is why it’s come to an integral aspect of indigenous culture.

Take a bite into the Traditional Food & Gifts for this EID and Ramadan month with GDO

Dates and Nuts

Enrich your tastebuds with Premium Dates. Get the Best Arabic Dates in Dubai, and Send Gifts Online to friends and family in Dubai. Take a bit into crunchy pistachios, cashews, and almonds, and Celebrate this Ramadan with the Best Dates and nuts in UAE

Dry Fruit Basket

Dry Fruit Basket is the Traditional way of Celebrating Ramadan month, especially during iftar. Get The Best Enriched dry fruit basket with a gift option to offer your dear ones on Ramadan. The crunchy almonds, cashews, and pistachios will relish their taste buds and express your love and care for them in the best way.

Fruit Baskets

Ramadan cannot be complete without Fruit Baskets, especially during iftar. Playing to get fresh and healthy gifting Optional and also planning it to be Grand. With GDO get the Best Fruit basket in town that fits your budget and share love and good health with your dear ones this Ramadan month.

Cakes

Cupcakes and celebration Cakes make the moment alive Gift Ramadan Cakes to your Homes and witness the Love that blooms in your Family. With GDO you can get the Best Ramadan Cakes and Iftar cakes that brighten your face and your heart at your Home

Get the Best of Traditional Gifts for this Ramadan and Eid. Send Gifts to all your friends and family members with GDO and celebrate this Ramadan season with the Grace of the Lord Almighty. Dive into the divine touch of traditional Ramadan gifts and sweets and treats from GDO family.

[ribesaureum]

Meal prepping for the week because my next couple days are packed. Made a bunch of dishes I can mix and match with rice and decided I wanted a little of everything for dinner tonight.

[vishalboxpackaging]

If you are looking for a reliable tray carton manufacturer in Noida, Vishal Box is the perfect choice. Vishal Box is a leading tray carton manufacturer in Noida. Our products are made from high-quality materials. We also provide a range of services to help our clients get the best out of our products. With our experienced team and state-of-the-art equipment, we can guarantee that you will be getting top quality trays and cartons at competitive prices.

[yandere-daydreams]

file #1: the piss fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!neuvillette x reader (genshin).

length: 3.2k.

warnings: fem!reader, non/con, omorashi, semi-public sex, humiliation/degradation play, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

The first sign that something was deeply, deeply wrong should’ve been the small glass bottle perched on the edge of your bedside table – filled to the brim with water so clear and so pristine that you might’ve thought it was empty, had you been a touch more optimistic.

You blinked once, then twice before summoning the strength to sit up, confusion and well-earned paranoia fighting to clear the fog over your exhaustion addled mind. Neuvillette stood at the foot of your bed, already dressed and currently focused on securing his cravat with a pointed intensity, or so he seemed to want you to believe. “What’s that?”

“Water. Fresh from the finest springs in Fontaine.” He allowed for a lengthy pause, then went on. “Admittedly, I thought you would’ve been more familiar with the concept.”

“I know what—” You started to defend yourself, then thought better of it – gritting your teeth as you snatched the bottle from the tabletop. It was odorless, unclouded, and as far as you could tell, containing a negligible amount of a foreign entity’s bodily fluids. All good signs, but Neuvillette wasn’t the caretaker type, and he knew you weren’t the type to want to be taken care of. You’d learned, over time, that any explicit display of his fondness for you was to be followed immediately by a demand that you reciprocate that fondness or, more realistically, grit your teeth and bear it while he poured further ‘affection’ onto you. “Is it… Is it supposed to be for me?”

“If you’d like for it to be.”

“And you didn’t put anything—”

“Please, love.” His voice was flat, but gentle. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an interrogation so early in the morning.”

You were more than tempted to refuse, but your dry throat and bleary mind provided ample motivation. With no small amount of reluctance, you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips before pulling it away just as quickly, sending Neuvillette a half-hearted glare. “What are you getting out of this?”

At that, he folded. There was an airy sigh, a slight shake to his head, a notable pause before his answer – less hesitant and more measured, tempered. “As long as you’re under this roof rather than that of the Fortress of Meropide, you’re within my guard. That means your health and well-being is my responsibility, as well as your containment.” You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had the chance to cut in. “Left to your own devices, you’re prone to neglecting yourself. Is it so wrong of me to want to correct that?”

You shrunk into yourself, glowering. You could’ve done without the reminder that he saw your personality as something to ‘correct’, but compared to his methods, nudging you towards hydration was a negligible offense. “Fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “But don’t get it into your head that I’m some… some incompetent child that’s going to start crying for your help every five seconds.”

His only response was a soft smile, as tender as it was ingenuine.

~

A member of his personal staff left your breakfast (Neuvillette never ate with you – in fact, you were beginning to wonder if he ate at all) in front of the door a few minutes later, and Neuvillette made sure you’d finished the bottle of water, everything on the tray, and an additional glass of bulle fruit juice before he let you dress. Usually, you were allowed to entertain yourself while he attended to his responsibilities as the Iudex, but today, you were taken by the hand and guided to his office – keeping your eyes on the floor as you passed by the secretaries and bureaucrats that populated most of the Palais Mermonia’s administrative floors. You might’ve had Neuvillette’s favor (however much you could’ve gone without it), but in Fontaine, a criminal record wasn’t an easy thing to erase. You tried not to draw too much attention from those who surely thought you should’ve been buried underneath the nearest ocean and forgotten. “I miss you most in the dull hours of the early morning,” he said, when you asked him why you were being denied your usual freedoms. “Bear with me just this once, and I might be able to find time for a stroll through the palace gardens, this afternoon.”

No part of you wanted to spend your day rotting on a loveseat in a dusty corner of his frigid office, but the promise of being able to step outside (a privilege you were rarely afforded) was irresistible. You dutifully nursed a lukewarm cup of bland peppermint tea as he sorted through decade-old casefiles, made a show of gulping down a mug of hot chocolate brought to you by a doe-eyed melusine while Neuvillette reviewed evidence for an upcoming trial, and managed to hold a strained smile when a man with a wide smile and a jarring laugh stopped by with two armfuls of vintage wines – gifts for the Iudex from a wealthy merchant hoping to buy for the favor of Fontaine’s most influential. Since Neuvillette didn’t have a taste for anything with more flavor than morning dew, you were called over to sample each in generous portions as their conversation stretched on and on and on.

By the time the man took his leave, your thoughts were fuzzy around the edges, your lips were stained red, and there was a pressure on your lower stomach that you didn’t care for. You made it about a minute, then another after his departure before pushing yourself to your feet and starting for the door. If you were quick, you shouldn’t have to weather the disdainful looks of too many of Neuvillette’s—

“Dearest?”

You cursed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. Neuvillette spared a small smile when he caught your eye, tapping his knee. “If you have a moment?”

Your grin faltered. “I… I was hoping to—”

“It’s rather important.”

You pursed your lips, but relented. You’d already done your time. You weren’t going to jeopardize your reward, now.

Irritation written clearly across your expression, you made your way to Neuvillette and, with another tap to his thigh by way of command, clambered into his lap. He positioned you to his preferences; Your legs thrown over one armrest while your back rested against the other, your shoulder pressed gingerly to his chest – the contact minimal, but enough to earn a sigh, a feather-light kiss to your cheek. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cupped your chin, tracing over your jaw for a moment before dropping lower – to the lace of your low neckline, then your stomach, where it settled. You tried not to squirm as he lowered his head, his cold breath fanning over your neck before his lips came to rest against the side of your throat. “Such a beautiful thing,” he muttered, his voice low enough to reverberate against your skin. “I’ll have to get you another dress in this color. It’s unbearable, just how lovely it looks on you.”

The praise was far from alien, but no less frigid for its familiarity. Whereas his wardrobe seemed to contain only the harshest of blacks, the purest of whites, and the richest of blues, he favored you in softer tones, faded pastels and desaturated hues that always made you feel like a doll, buried in sheets of silk and lace and left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. The style, too, was a distinct departure from what he preferred for himself; all plunging necklines and full skirts and lacey bodices pulled so tight, you were tempted them to a proper corset. It was far from immodest, even for a setting so formal, but the length of your skirt never seemed to stop his hand from slipping under the many layers of fine material, his gloved fingers skirting over the length of your clothed slit. You felt his lips ghost over the side of your neck, the points of his unnaturally sharp teeth grazing over your jugular, but you shoved him away before he could make contact. “Wait, Neuvillette, I—I don’t—”

Your voice gave out, and Neuvillette raised his head curiously. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“I… I, uh…” You balled your fists in your lap. “I can’t, right now.”

You couldn’t remember ever seeing his smile so wide. “You… can’t?”

“Shut your mouth,” you mumbled, face burning with humiliation. “I… I have to use the restroom.”

It sounded so pathetic, so childish. More out of embarrassment than anything, you moved to stand, but Neuvillette’s sudden stock of mercy had evidently run dry. With an airy laugh, his arm found its way to your waist, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. Now, he chose not to waste time – the pad of his thumb finding your clit and pushing slow, languid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t temper your reaction, your elbow jutting into his chest as you jerked away from his abrupt touch, but Neuvillette held you tight, his fingertips digging into your hip as two of his fingers skimmed over your entrance, the leather of his gloves smooth and freezing against your cunt. Your stomach ached, your eyes flitting unconsciously towards the very much unlocked door of his office, but if Neuvillette noticed your lasting hesitancy, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the crook of your neck. Usually, you tried to bear his unwanted affection with a silent grimace, but you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as he gathered the arousal slowly starting to drip down your thighs. “Neuvillette, I don’t want to—”

“Hush, now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Another kiss, this one to the dip of your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not worried, I’m—” You started to protest, but Neuvillette cut you off with a sudden nip to the tender patch just above your jugular. You weren’t enjoying this, you didn’t want to enjoy anything, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel something as his cool breath fanned over your neck, your chest, as his thumb fell away and he ground the heel of his palm into your clit, drawing a pained whine out of the back of your throat.

It took a conscious effort to keep your mind off of the fullness sitting heavy in the base of your stomach, to stop yourself from squirming quite so pitifully as he pushed two fingers into you with a cruel sort of ease. His pace was just as slow as it had been when he was only toying with your clit, but you didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful for the lethargic, ebbing way he pumped his digits into you, only ever pausing to spread them apart when his knuckles were flush to your entrance, when he knew he’d be taking advantage of the most vulnerable parts of you. Despite his vice-like hold on your waist, it took a considerable effort to stop yourself from swaying, from shifting, from moving in any way beyond the little, inevitable bucks of your hips you just couldn’t seem to suppress when his fingers brushed against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you. Moving only made it worse. Everything only seemed to make it worse, and it was only getting harder to ignore the pressure mounting against the walls of your bla—

Without warning, the hand on your waist fell to your hip. On moment, you were laid across his lap, and the next, you were straddling his thighs, your back pressed against his chest and your ass slotted against the now unignorable bulge in his pants. Whatever complaints you might’ve had about the previous angle were tripled in an instant. A third finger was forced into your cunt alongside the last two, the stretch immediately turning from awkward to unbearable. You thought you’d gotten used to the size of his hands, his monstrous tongue, even his twin cocks, but suddenly, it was like you were being forced to take him for the first time again, every new quirk and flick of his wrist bringing tears to your eyes, drawing fractured whimpers from deep in your chest. You tried to raise your hands, to cover your face, to make the thought of crying in front of him for the first time in months that much less devastating, but Neuvillette was faster – his hand finding your chin, tilting your head back and tearing away any foolish thoughts you might’ve had about hiding from him. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise your lips, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and raking over your own with an almost zealous desperation – a type he rarely showed. His mouth moved against yours for a second, then another before he let out a throaty growl, the noise rough and gravely. If it hadn’t known it was coming from such a refined man, you might’ve taken it for that of an animal. “You still taste like that bastard’s grime.” It was the angriest you’d ever heard him. “To taint such divine purity with such wretched filth – it should be a crime, no, a sin.”

And yet, he was already reaching for the wine glass on the corner of his desk – still half full of a sugared white variety, nearly colorless if it wasn’t for the slight, pinkish tint to its hue. You tried to twist away as he raised the glass to your mouth, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and it only took a few seconds for him to slot the curved rim against your lips, to tilt the glass back and fill your mouth with sickeningly sweet alcohol. It was too hasty, too clumsy – wine splashing against your face, trickling out of the corner of your mouth despite your feeble attempts to swallow it down and save yourself just an ounce of further embarrassment. You’d barely managed a mouthful when Neuvillette’s patience gave out – the glass falling away, shattering on the floor of his office as his hand dropped to your midriff, groping at your bloated stomach while his fingers pounded into your aching core. “Stop,” you managed, between broken moans. “Stop, Neuvi’, I can’t— I don’t want to— Stop.”

He let you whine and mewl, twisted and thrash, but it didn’t make a difference. Neuvillette only nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing as he spoke over your pitiful noises. “It’s alright, love,” he muttered, the harsh edge of his tone softened by heady affection. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to reach for the edge of his desk, to make one last desperate attempt to pull yourself away from him, but it was already too late. You clenched your eyes shut as you came undone on his fingertips, as some badly beaten wall inside of you finally gave out and an awful, awful warmth sopped into the fabric of your gown and trickled down your thighs. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know how bad the damage was, but as Neuvillette nursed you through your stilted climax, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling open and dropping to the dark stain slowly spreading in the lap of your skirt, couldn’t stop yourself from hearing Neuvillette’s deep, rumbling groan as your… your accident began to soak into the priceless fabric of his pants. This time, he didn’t stop you when your hands shot up to cover your face, to muffle your broken cries as he finally drew back, pulling out of you entirely for the first time since he hauled you into his lap.

There was a second of stillness, of sweet-nothings muttered into the curve of your throat, but whatever relief you might’ve been able to feel was quickly replaced with a jarring, painful sort of vertigo as Neuvillette’s hands fell to your hips and he lifted you onto his desk – your chest pressed flat to the chilled wood and your ass raised high enough for your shirts to pool around your waist. You sobbed unabashedly as your ruined panties were torn away entirely, as the flat of Neuvillette’s tongue ran over the length of your slit, his saliva only adding to the terrible blend of slick and piss and mess leaking out of you. Any concerns he might’ve held for your pleasure were forgotten as he lapped and licked at your pussy, his tongue fucking shallowly into your cunt as his fingertips bit into your waist. If your nerves hadn’t been so fried, if your mind hadn’t been so clouded with embarrassment and despair and pure, undiluted humiliation, you wouldn’t have been able to feel anything worth salvaging, but somehow, you found little, wavering moans breaking through your incoherent sobbing, something other than pain and pressure beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You buried your face in your arms as you clenched around his tongue against your will, as Neuvillette left you whimpering and grinding against his mouth, helpless to stop your pathetic body from doing anything he wanted it to.

It was only when the final aftershocks of your second climax faded and the first pangs of piercing overstimulation began to set in that he pulled away, panting as he straightened his back. He didn’t so much collapse onto you as deliberately drape his form over yours – his chest pressing into your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice distant, dream-like. “So perfect for me. You did beautifully.”

Your only response was another wobbling cry, a trembling sniffle. You couldn’t so much as imagine attempting to stand on your own, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to need you to. With one arm wrapped around your midriff and the other underneath the bend of your knees, he pulled you against his chest and hummed softly as you sank into his shoulder, your ruined dress falling into place like a leaden shroud around you. You decided, in that moment, that you would burn it as soon as possible, as thoroughly as possible. Neuvillette’s chambers didn’t have a fireplace and you’d never found so much as a candle within the walls of the Palais Mermonia, but that didn’t matter. You’d get rid of it if you had to break down the furniture for kindling.

“Can I…” You melted further into him, your eyes drooping before shutting entirely. “Can I go back to my room, please?”

“Soon enough.” He pressed a tender, lingering kiss into your temple. In your dazed state, you could nearly miss the scrape of pointed fangs against delicate skin, as he pulled away.

“I believe I promised you a walk through our gardens, first?”

[elysianightsss]

Okay I know this trope has been done time and time again but it’s a fuckingggg classic okay? Okay.

Best friend Johnny who keeps a photo of you in his pocket so he can remind himself what he is fighting to get home to.

Best friend Johnny who’s face lights up as soon as he sees you waiting for him at the airport with one of them big signs saying Johnny on it. It looks like you spent a lot of time hand decorating it.

Best friend Johnny who doesn’t argue when you ask him to stay at your house his first night home, he simply smiles with a nod because why would he ever refuse you.

Best friend Johnny who already has some of his clothes in your drawers for whenever he stays over. Brought over a duffle bag full of some a while ago and just stared filling your drawers.

Best friend Johnny who snoops around after he gets out the shower to see if you’d gotten any new toys while he was away. (You had) he grins while inspecting the new one, not a vibrator this time. No this one was moulded like a real man, very detailed he noticed. He would never tell you how he held it next to his to see the size difference.

Best friend Johnny who grins at you when he comes out of your room freshly cleaned and in new clothes to find you in one of his shirts and just underwear, dancing to the ABBA songs you were playing through Alexa.

Best friend Johnny who dances with you just so he had an excuse to have his hands on you. And oh boy does he, his thick fingers running over your body. Hot breath on your neck as you both laugh.

Best friend Johnny who feels on cloud nine while he makes dinner with you, the domesticity of it all making him yearn for more. The way you’re both moving around each other, flowing and fitting in with each other perfectly.

Best friend Johnny who even though is eating the same thing as you, still tries to feed you with an “Op’n up fa me lass.” Spoon in hand resting softly against your lips waiting patiently for you to accept, “K’mon bonnie.”

Best friend Johnny whose face drops when you tell him all about the date you had been on with a complete and utter douchebag while he was away. You don’t notice the way he freezes at your words, you don’t see the fire behind his eyes.

Best friend Johnny who finally finds the courage within him to say you don’t need to date anyone. You have him. He’s yours, always have been bonnie.

Best friend Johnny who goes crazy when you finally let him touch you. Desperately laps at your pussy, clit swollen and aching as the Scot wraps his lips around it wanting nothing more than to show you how well he can take care of you. How quick he can make you cum all over his tongue.

Best friend Johnny who is the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He’s all over you, he’s in your every thought, your every breath. You feel him in your throat when he slides his thick cock into your slick pussy. You’re dripping a mixture of cum and Johnny’s spit.

Best friend Johnny who’s so hot the way he’s desperate for it, pathetically desperate to slap his hips against your ass. The shlick shlick shlick sounds loud in the air with the way his heavy balls slap against your clit sending rolls of pleasure through you with each thrust. “Fuck lass, so pretty! Do ye ken what ye do to me? Dis wee cunt is addictive!”

Best friend Johnny who makes love to you well into the early hours of the morning. You’re a complete dishevelled mess by the time he’s done. Hickies anywhere his mouth could reach, hand marks on your hips, hair a mess, drool on your chin, throat dry and sore from screaming his name and your cunt dripping with his cum. But you fall asleep satisfied with a smile on your swollen lips.

Boyfriend Johnny who kisses you softly all over, whispering praises and I love yous into your skin as he uses a warm flannel to wipe away the sweat and cum from your body.

Boyfriend Johnny who makes you breakfast in bed, all your favourites and some pieces of fruit for healthiness. Who delivers it to you on your bamboo tray, an apron wrapped around him that says ‘I’m cute’ on the front. His naked arse out of full display.

Boyfriend Johnny that watches you eat with a smile on your face and happiness bubbling in his chest.

[nibblesgifts]

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[duskylory11]

Decorating Your Kitchen with a Premium Dry Fruit Tray: Elevating Style with Different Designs

The kitchen is often the heart of the home, where family members gather, meals are prepared, and memories are made. It's a space that deserves both functionality and beauty. One easy and effective way to enhance your kitchen decor is by incorporating a premium dry fruit tray. While traditionally viewed as a serving accessory, a well-designed dry fruit wooden tray can also double as a decorative centerpiece, adding an air of luxury and sophistication to your kitchen. In this article, we’ll explore how you can use different designs of dry fruit trays to elevate your kitchen decor and make it stand out.

The Appeal of a Dry Fruit Tray as Decor

A dry fruit tray is a practical yet elegant way to display healthy snacks like almonds, pistachios, raisins, and cashews, but its use goes far beyond that. When not in use for serving, these trays can act as decorative pieces, bringing a touch of refinement to your kitchen. With the right design, it can harmoniously blend with your kitchen's overall aesthetic while adding functionality.

From modern to rustic, minimalist to ornate, the wide range of premium dry fruit tray designs available today allows you to select a tray that perfectly complements your kitchen's decor style. So, let’s dive into the various ways you can use a dry fruit tray to decorate your kitchen.

1. Create a Stylish Centerpiece on Your Kitchen Island or Dining Table

One of the simplest ways to make a decorative statement in your kitchen is by placing a premium dry fruit tray as a centerpiece on your kitchen island or dining table. Opt for a tray made of materials like Sheesham wood, mango wood, or ceramic with intricate designs. These trays are not only durable but also exude a luxurious vibe.

For a more sophisticated touch, choose a wooden dry fruit tray with a Sheesham finish. The rich, dark hues of Sheesham wood can add a sense of elegance to any space. Pair it with a modern or minimalist kitchen, and you'll achieve the perfect balance between nature-inspired beauty and contemporary style. The dry fruit tray can hold an assortment of nuts, creating a vibrant and inviting centerpiece that encourages healthy snacking.

2. Add Texture and Warmth with Rustic Designs

If your kitchen has a rustic or farmhouse-inspired design, a dry fruit tray with a natural wood finish will fit perfectly. You can select a mango wood dry fruit tray, which is known for its durability and rich grain patterns. Mango wood has a warm, golden color that can bring a cozy, homey feel to your kitchen.

To enhance the rustic charm, you could go for trays with hand-carved designs or trays that have a slightly weathered finish. The organic look of a mango wood dry fruit tray complements a rustic decor style, adding depth and texture to the space. This tray can be placed on open shelves, countertops, or even a kitchen island, contributing to both the aesthetics and functionality of the kitchen.

3. Incorporate Sophisticated Designs for a Modern Touch

If your kitchen leans towards a more modern, sleek aesthetic, you’ll want a premium dry fruit tray that aligns with this style. Look for trays that have clean lines, polished finishes, or metallic accents. A stainless steel or glass dry fruit tray can add a touch of modern luxury, especially if it’s paired with a monochrome or minimalist kitchen design.

A modern dry fruit tray could feature compartments or sections, each holding different types of nuts or dried fruits, presenting a geometric and organized look. By choosing a contemporary design, you’re not just adding a decorative item to your kitchen, but you're enhancing its overall style and sophistication.

4. Use Dry Fruit Trays to Complement Seasonal Decor

A dry fruit tray is a versatile piece of decor that can be easily adapted to fit different seasons or special occasions. For example, during festive seasons like Diwali or Christmas, you can use a luxury dry fruit tray as part of your holiday decor. Choose trays with vibrant designs, festive colors, or trays that have gold and silver detailing to create a sense of celebration and warmth in your kitchen.

During the spring or summer months, consider using light-colored trays or trays with floral or nature-inspired designs. This can refresh your kitchen’s look, giving it a light, airy feel that reflects the season.

5. Display Dry Fruit Trays on Open Shelving

If your kitchen features open shelving, you can use dry fruit trays as display pieces to add elegance and personality to the space. A beautifully designed tray, placed alongside jars, dishes, and other kitchen accessories, can help elevate the overall look of your kitchen.

Select a wooden dry fruit tray or a tray with a marble base for a chic, organized display. When arranged thoughtfully, these trays create visual interest and a focal point in the room. It’s a subtle way of showing that your kitchen is not only a place for cooking but also a space for artistry and design.

6. Layered Decor with Multiple Trays

For a more elaborate decorative look, consider layering multiple dry fruit trays of different shapes, sizes, and materials. You can mix a ceramic tray with a wooden tray or a tray with metallic accents for a layered, eclectic vibe. Place these trays together on a countertop or on top of a kitchen cabinet for a curated, designer-inspired look.

This layered approach works especially well in larger kitchens where you have more counter space to display decorative pieces. You could even arrange the trays with other items like candles, vases, or small potted plants to create a balanced, eye-catching display.

7. Functionality Meets Design

The beauty of using a dry fruit tray as a decorative element is that it seamlessly blends style with functionality. While serving as a piece of decor, the tray remains practical for everyday use. Whether you’re hosting guests or simply organizing your pantry, the tray can easily transition from decor to serveware, making it a versatile addition to your kitchen.

Conclusion

Decorating your kitchen with a premium dry fruit tray is an easy and stylish way to enhance the space's overall ambiance. Whether your kitchen is modern, rustic, or somewhere in between, there’s a dry fruit tray design that can complement your decor. From creating a luxurious centerpiece to adding a rustic touch, the options are endless. With its blend of functionality and aesthetics, a premium dry fruit tray can transform your kitchen into a more inviting, organized, and visually appealing space.

[rahultistabene]

Elevate Your Dining Experience with Stylish Tray Sets

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[navybrat817]

Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[giftdubaionline]

Ramadan 2023 Iftar Snacks and Gifts - Food Ideas

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[81buttons]

'Childcare, skates and kisses'

F1- OS

Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary : Where Franco and you have to spend a day together with your niece

Warnings: So, I kinda realize Idk anything about kids’ ages, so maybe she’s too young for the stuff she’s doing, but whatever, you just play along… lots of fluff ‘cause I really need it. It’s just Franco with kids it’s cute, it’s sweet, that’s all. And maybe a little flirty hint (because, well, it’s Franco) & English is not my first language so sorry :) and i already gave a name to your niece sorry

I’m posting this fic 'cause I’ve had the idea since Vegas. Just to be clear it’s not saying Franco should have kids or anything—he’s still young... It’s just a cute story and it works well since I found out a few days ago that I’m an auntie for the first time,  hiiii !!! To a little niece, so the inspiration came naturally !

NB: Y/B/N = your brother's name

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Franco parked in front of your building, slamming the door of his car with a sigh. He was tired, still a bit out of it from his last trip for a GP, but happy to be back with you after a long race weekend. All he wanted was to curl up in your arms, enjoy your smile, and maybe have a quiet evening together. He knocked softly on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened… but instead of your usual smile, a little girl around five years old, wearing a unicorn pajama, with messy little curls and holding a stuffed animal way too big for her, stood there, looking up at him with a bright smile that reminded him of someone.

— Hi! Who are you? the little girl asked cheerfully.

Franco stammered, clearly confused:

— Uh… hey? And who are you?

He looked behind her, trying to figure out what was going on, but all he could hear was the sound of a cartoon playing in the living room. Before the little girl could answer, you appeared quickly, holding a towel to dry your hands.

— Oh, babe, you’re here! Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock, you said with a soft laugh.

You walked over, lifted your little niece into your arms, kissed her cheek, and gave Franco a quick kiss hello. But Franco, still frozen, couldn’t resist teasing.

— So… do you have something to tell me? Like… we had a baby and you forgot to tell me? he said, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You burst out laughing at his shocked face, and your niece giggled in your arms.

— Silly. This is Emma, my niece. Remember, I told you my brother needed me to look after her today?

Franco sighed, pretending to be relieved:

— Oh, okay. Because I was wondering how I could’ve forgotten something like that. She’s a mini-you, it’s kinda creepy. I thought it was a tiny version of you.

You set Emma down and invited her inside. The little girl, curious, didn’t take her eyes off Franco.

— Are you Uncle Fran? Emma asked excitedly.

Franco raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, amused.

— Uncle Fran? That’s what you call me now?

— I might’ve told her a little about you… She was super excited to meet you, you admitted with a smile.

Franco bent down to look Emma in the eye and pretended to be serious.

— So, you must be… Princess Emma, the mini-version of your auntie Y/N. Nice to meet you, young lady.

Emma burst into laughter and reached her arms out for a hug. Franco, touched, picked her up.

— I hope you didn’t inherit your aunt’s temper, or we’re in trouble.

— No, I’m funnier than her, Emma replied with a laugh.

— Hey! Traitor! you protested, pretending to be offended.

Franco laughed out loud, and you all walked into the apartment. He noticed a tray of cereal, fruit juices, and toast on the table.

— You could’ve told me. I would’ve brought some candy or something, he said.

— Since when you need an excuse to eat candy? you replied, rolling your eyes.

Emma sat down in a chair, but as soon as Franco sat next to her, she climbed onto his lap.

— I want to eat on Uncle Fran’s lap! she declared.

Franco raised an eyebrow, amused.

— Well, princess, you don’t waste any time, do you?

While you made a cup of coffee, you shot a playful look at Franco.

— “Watch out, don’t let those pretty eyes and angel face fool you. She’s going to get you to do whatever she wants,” you warned.

As if to confirm your words, Emma started laughing with an adorable smile. Franco was done for. 

He burst out laughing, beginning to hand her pieces of toast while listening to her chatter about Frozen, the butterflies she learned to draw at school, and her love for unicorns. You watched the scene, amused, as Franco seriously engaged in her conversations, even giving his opinion on unicorns.

When Emma finished her bowl of cereal, she looked up, eyes sparkling.

— Uncle Fran, is it true you’re a race car driver and go super, super fast?

Franco paused dramatically.

— Hmm… who told you that?

— Auntie Y/N, she said mischievously.

Franco looked at you with a teasing smile.

— Oh yeah? You talk about me to everyone, huh?

— Not really. Just to people who care, you replied with a playful look.

Emma tugged at Franco’s sleeve.

— Do you go as fast as Lightning McQueen?

Franco nodded, amused.

— Exactly, mi amor. Like Lightning McQueen, but better.

— And do you always win?

Franco leaned in close, whispering like it was a secret.

— Of course. I’m the best.

From the counter, you burst into laughter and couldn’t help but tease.

— Not always, huh? Sometimes Uncle Fran gets overtaken.

Franco placed a theatrical hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt.

— What’s all this slander? I’m a champion!

Emma, with admiration:

— I think he’s the best!

Franco winked at her and tickled her, causing her to burst into giggles. You watched them, touched by their immediate bond.

You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile played on your lips.

“Alright, champion, since you’re so perfect, could you do me a favor?”

Franco looked at you, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

“Hmm, depends. What’s the favor?”

You walked up to him, holding a brush and a little flower hair elastic.

“Could you do Emma’s hair while I finish getting ready?”

Emma, hopping with excitement, added:

“I want braids today! Like Elsa!”

Franco raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Braids? You want me to do braids?”

Emma jumped off his lap and ran to grab a blue snowflake hair clip. From across the room, she yelled:

“And my Elsa clip too!”

You crossed your arms, mischievous.

“So, champ, ready to take on the challenge?”

Franco sighed dramatically.

“Fine, okay. But if I mess up, you won’t hold it against me, right Emma?”

Emma trotted back, handing him the clip before sitting down obediently in a chair. Franco stared at the brush in his hands like it was a complicated object.

“So, do I start by brushing? Is that the thing?”

A smirk formed on your face as you sipped your coffee.

“Congrats, you’ve already got the basics down. Keep going, genius.”

Franco began brushing Emma’s curly hair, but the knots made it tricky.

“Ouch, Uncle Fran!”

Franco panicked slightly.

“Oops, sorry, sorry.”

He struggled to separate the strands to make braids, but nothing stayed in place. Passing through the living room, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Everything okay, champ? Getting through it?”

Franco grumbled in response.

“This is tougher than a gp, your thing.”

You burst out laughing, watching him struggle.

Emma, still cheerful:

“You’re funny, Uncle Fran!”

After several failed attempts, Franco gave up on the braids and went for two pigtails.

“Well, Emma, I think pigtails suit you better than braids. Don’t you think?”

Emma nodded, eyes shining.

“With my Elsa clip?”

Seriously, he pinned the clip to the side and let out a sigh of relief as he admired his work. You came back into the room and inspected the result.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but I’ll admit, you did okay.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“That’s called natural talent”

After breakfast and the hair episode, you suggested a trip to the park. Emma jumped for joy at the idea. Franco, though clearly tired, agreed with a shrug.

“Alright, princess, let’s go to the park. But if you tire me out too much, it’s Aunt Y/N who’s going to have to carry me back.”

You crossed your arms with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll end up carrying Emma AND her backpack.”

Emma, already bouncing near the door:

“Yeah, Uncle Fran!”

Franco shot you a teasing glance.

“You see? I’m the favorite here. Sorry, baby.”

Amused, you grabbed your bag while they got ready to leave.

The trio arrived at the park on a beautiful winter’s day. Emma immediately ran towards the playground but quickly turned around.

“Uncle Fran, come with me!”

Slouched on a bench next to you, Franco sighed.

“She’s got too much energy, that little one.”

You chuckled softly.

“Come on, Uncle Fran. Show her you’re the king of the playground.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Franco stood up.

“Fine. But if I get hurt, you’re massaging me tonight.”

You smiled, teasing.

“Watch out for making a fool of yourself instead.”

With a wink in your direction, he went to join Emma, who was eagerly waiting for him…

Emma climbed up the slide and called out to Franco.

“Uncle Franco, look at me!”

With his hands on his hips, Franco responded,

“I’m watching, princess. Show me what you’ve got.”

Emma slid down laughing, arms in the air. Franco clapped loudly.

“Bravo! But you know, I’m the champion of the slide. No one can beat me.”

Emma looked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

To prove his point, Franco climbed up the slide. With his height, he was clearly too big for it. From a distance, you burst out laughing as you watched him get stuck halfway up.

“Need some help, Uncle Fran?” you shouted teasingly.

Struggling to move, Franco replied,

“No, no, I’m fine!”

Emma, cracking up, encouraged him.

“Uncle Fran, you’re too big for the slide!”

Finally, Franco managed to slide down, landing in the sand, covered in dust. He stood up, proudly brushing himself off.

“There you go, mission accomplished!”

You gently teased him.

“Yeah, really impressive…”

Walking over to you with a mischievous grin, Franco said,

“Jealous? Want to try it, baby?”

You shook your head, amused.

“No thanks. I like to keep my dignity.”

After a busy morning, you all sat down on a blanket while Emma played, building castles in the sandbox.

You said to Franco, a bit admiring,

“You’re really good with kids.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“Of course. Kids love me. I’m irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Still as humble as ever. You know that doesn’t work if you’re the one complimenting yourself?”

Franco winked at you.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. I like your brother, but I like his little princess even more.”

You let out a playful laugh.

“And now I have to deal with two kids…”

You both burst out laughing, interrupted by Emma, who came running toward you, super excited.

“Look at my castle, it’s so pretty, right?”

After their trip to the park, you all returned to the apartment. Emma, full of energy despite the already busy morning, didn’t seem ready to calm down.

“Uncle Fran, can we play a game?!” she squealed, bouncing up and down.

Sinking into the couch, Franco gave her a tired smile.

“A game? But I’m an old, tired man…”

Emma placed her hands on her hips, her face determined.

“You’re not old, Uncle Fran! You’re just lazy!”

You burst out laughing, sitting next to Franco: “She got you there,” you teased.

Franco raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

“Lazy, me? Alright, little princess, what game do you want to play?”

Emma clapped her hands, excited.

“Hide and seek!”

Franco raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, I’m the king of hide and seek. No one’s ever found me.”

Emma crossed her arms, determined.

“We’ll see about that!”

And so, the game began.

Franco slowly gets up, stretching exaggeratedly, before signaling to Emma.

“Alright, it’s you who counts, little spy. But no cheating, okay?”

Emma closes her eyes, placing her hands in front of her face.

“I’m counting to ten. Get ready, Uncle Fran!”

Franco gives you a quick glance, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Watch closely, baby. I’m about to prove I’m the best,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, amused.

Emma starts counting out loud.

“One… two… three…”

Franco quietly runs through the apartment, looking for a hiding spot. He hesitates between hiding behind the living room curtains or in the bathroom bathtub, but finally decides to lie down behind the couch.

Emma finishes counting.

“Ten! Here I come!”

She opens her eyes and looks around.

“Hmmm… where’s Uncle Fran?”

She walks through the living room, checking behind the curtains, then turns to you.

“Auntie Y/N, do you know where he is?”

You give her a teasing smile.

“Maybe. But I won’t tell you.”

Emma squints her eyes, as if she suspects something.

“You’re kidding! That means he’s close by!”

She runs into the living room, circling the couch. Franco, lying on the floor, deliberately lets part of his shoe stick out.

Emma lets out an excited shout.

“A-ha! I found you, Uncle Fran!”

Franco pretends to jump in surprise.

“Noooo! How did you do that?!”

Emma bursts out laughing.

“I’m too good!”

Franco stands up, lifts her into the air, and spins her around gently.

“Okay, okay, you’re the best. But now, it’s your turn to hide.”

Emma runs off to hide, her laughter echoing through the apartment. Franco turns to you.

“She’s probably going to pick an obvious spot, right?”

You shrug with a smile.

“Maybe. But pretend to have trouble finding her, or she’ll get upset.”

Franco nods, playing along, and starts searching loudly.

“Hmmm… maybe she’s here?” he says, deliberately checking under a cushion.

“Nope.”

He moves toward the kitchen and opens a cupboard.

“Or here? Still nothing… Where could she be?”

Emma, hiding under the table with a tablecloth hanging all the way to the floor, tries to hold in her laughter. Franco walks past the table, then stops, glancing at you.

“This is impossible. She’s evaporated,” he says dramatically.

You join in on the game.

“Maybe she snuck back home.”

Franco pretends to panic. Emma bursts out laughing, giving away her hiding spot. Franco suddenly turns his head.

“What?! That sound?!”

He quickly crouches down, lifts the tablecloth, and finds Emma, who’s laughing uncontrollably.

“A-ha! Gotcha!” he exclaims, grabbing her.

He lifts her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making her laugh even harder.

After several rounds of hide-and-seek, Emma, tired, settled onto Franco’s lap on the couch. She was playing with his hair while he held her gently. Sitting next to them, you watched the scene with a soft smile.

You rest your head on Franco’s shoulder, happy to see him being so sweet with your niece. This simple but perfect moment of closeness reminded you once again why you loved him.

A little later, Franco insisted on making something, even though he wasn’t exactly a master chef.

Franco, rummaging through the fridge: “Let’s see… Eggs, cheese, ham… Perfect, I’m making you an omelette.”

You cross your arms, a teasing smile on your lips.

“An omelette? How original… Should we call a food critic to rate it?”

Franco taps his chest, feigning offense.

“Babe you’re talking to a master of simple, efficient cooking. I can make meals with an even emptier fridge. Get ready to be impressed.”

You hold back a laugh.

“You don’t make them, you order them.”

Franco rolls his eyes, amused.

“Yeah, well… We do what we can, okay?”

Emma, sitting at the table, watches him with admiration.

“I want an omelette with lots of cheese, Uncle Fran!”

Franco turns to her with a smile.

“Of course, princesa. Anything you want. But if Auntie Y/N keeps doubting my chef skills, she’ll get a tiny omelette.”

You shake your head, amused, and decide to set the table while Franco prepares the meal.

After lunch, Emma enjoys a yogurt, but your phone rings. It’s your brother. You pick up immediately.

“Hello? Oh, Y/B/N, are you okay?”

On the other end, your brother sounds stressed. He explains that he’s stuck at work because of an unexpected emergency and won’t be able to pick up Emma as early as planned.

“Can you pass me the phone, please? I need to explain it to her.” your brother asks.

You look down at Emma, who’s playing with her spoon, and hand her the phone.

“Emma, it’s your dad. He wants to talk to you.”

Emma eagerly takes the phone.

“Hi, Daddy! Are you coming soon?”

In a soft but apologetic voice, her dad explains that he won’t be able to come because of work. Emma nods, but her smile fades.

“Okay, Daddy…”

She hands the phone back to you, clearly disappointed.

Seeing the little girl sad, Franco sets his napkin down and kneels next to her.

“Hey, princess. Why the long face?”

Emma, her eyes downcast:

“Daddy was supposed to take me to see Santa and have a big hot chocolate. But he can’t come…”

Franco thinks for a second, then claps his hands.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. What if me, Auntie Y/N, and you go see Santa together?”

Emma looks up, her eyes sparkling.

“Really? You’d come with me?”

Franco, with a big grin:

“Of course! And I promise we’ll get the biggest hot chocolate we can find.”

You cross your arms, teasing:

“And I’m supposed to carry all the gift bags, right?”

Franco raises an eyebrow.

“Obviously. Who else?”

Emma bursts out laughing, her mood completely lifted.

A few hours later, you arrive at the mall, lit up with Christmas decorations and twinkling lights. Santa is sitting in a big red chair, surrounded by fake presents and a giant Christmas tree.

Emma, jumping with excitement while holding Franco’s hand, looks at you eagerly.

“Uncle Franco, do you think Santa will recognize me?”

Franco, with a serious smile, replies,

“Oh, of course. Princesses like you, he never forgets them.”

You can’t help teasing the little one.

“And maybe he’ll ask you why you didn’t listen to Uncle Franco when he told you to eat your vegetables at lunch.”

She stares at you, horrified.

“No! Uncle Fran, did you tell him?”

Franco bursts out laughing.

“No, mi amor, I’ve got your back. But next time, eat your veggies, okay?”

She nods vigorously, clearly relieved.

When it’s finally her turn to meet Santa, Emma climbs onto his lap, her eyes sparkling. You take out your phone to capture the moment, while Franco, next to you, can’t take his eyes off her, touched by the sight.

“She’s really adorable. She looks so much like you.”

You shoot him a playful look.

“At least she doesn’t have your ego, though.”

He pretends to be offended but just smiles, absorbed in watching Emma happily chat with Santa.

A little later, Franco insists that you all go to the mall’s café. He orders a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream for Emma, a coffee for you, and a hot chocolate for himself.

He shows his cup to Emma with a smile.

“See? Even big guys like me love hot chocolate.”

The little one bursts into laughter.

“With lots of whipped cream, like me?”

“Exactly.”

You watch them, amused, rolling your eyes but unable to hold back your smile.

As you leave the mall, Emma, holding Franco’s hand and hopping with joy after her huge hot chocolate, spots an ice rink set up outside, surrounded by twinkling lights and Christmas music.

“Ohhh, Auntie Y/N, Uncle Fran, look! An ice rink! Can we go, please?”

You furrow your brow, eyeing the ice. “Oh, um… I don’t know, Emma. It looks slippery, and dangerous, and…”

“But, Auntiiiee… I just want to try, just a little bit!” She gives you that irresistible puppy-dog look.

Franco, next to her, grins slyly. “Come on, love. Let her have some fun. She’s small, and there are helpers to guide them.”

You sigh, already knowing you’re going to give in. Emma knows exactly how to make you crack. “Alright, fine. But only if she has all the safety gear.”

“Yessss! Thank you, Auntie Y/N!”

Once at the rink, you find a helper ready to assist the kids on the ice. Emma, equipped with skates, a helmet, and elbow pads, looks like a little doll in her pink puffer jacket and matching gloves.

She awkwardly glides on the ice, laughing out loud and sometimes holding onto the barriers or the helper. Franco, by your side, watches her with a fond smile.

“Look at her. She’s adorable. A real champion.”

You smile, touched. “Yeah, and so brave. I could never do that.”

Franco turns to you, a teasing smile on his lips. “Never? You mean you’ve never skated before?”

“I have, when I was little. But I was awful. I kept falling. And I’m not about to embarrass myself today.”

“Baby, that’s part of the fun. Besides, I’m here. I’ll hold you up. I promise.”

You hesitate, looking at him. “Franco, no. I’m definitely going to fall.”

He insists, a charming smile on his face. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. I’m your safety net.”

You roll your eyes, but Emma, from the ice, starts cheering you on.

“Auntie Y/N! Come skate with us! It’s so fun!”

After a lot of persuasion, you finally agree to put on skates. Franco holds out his hand to help you onto the ice.

“Oh my God, it’s so slippery. I’m going to die,” you murmur as you put one foot on the ice.

Franco laughs softly. “Baby, it’s an ice rink, and I’m right here. Relax.”

You grab his arms immediately, refusing to let go. “I’m warning you, if I fall, I’m killing you.”

“If you fall, we’ll fall together. It’ll be romantic,” he teases.

With a lot of effort and you clinging to him like an octopus, you move slowly on the ice. Franco chuckles as he guides you. “Baby, you know you’re supposed to move your feet, right? You’re just hanging onto me.”

“I’m moving my feet, you liar! It’s just… Aaaah, that guy’s going to run into us!”

A fast skater passes by, and you panic, losing your balance.

As you slide backward, Franco tries to catch you but loses his balance too, and you both end up on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

“I told you I was going to fall!” you say between laughs.

“Yeah, but you could’ve avoided dragging me down with you!” He laughs too, lying on the ice.

Emma, having seen the whole scene, approaches slowly with the helper’s help.

“Auntie Y/N! Uncle Fran! Why are you on the ground?”

You try to get up, still laughing. “Because your Uncle Fran is terrible at skating.”

“Hey! You fell first!” Franco retorts, helping you get back up.

He rubs your back, concerned despite his smile.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just my ego.”

“Your ego can take it. But let’s call it a day, okay?”

You both make your way to the edge of the rink while Emma continues to skate joyfully with the helper. Your cheeks are still red, and you glance at Franco.

“I hate you for making me do that.”

He plants a kiss on your temple, smiling.

“No, you love me.”

“Hmm… Maybe. But don’t expect me to get back on that ice.”

Franco smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both watch Emma laugh and skate, full of energy.

After their crazy day at the mall and the ice rink, Franco, Emma, and you finally make it back home. Emma’s cheeks are still rosy from the cold, but she’s buzzing with energy, even after everything. Franco’s got her in his arms, and she’s wiggling around happily.

“Uncle Franco, do you think we can have some candy before dinner?” she asks, eyes wide with hope.

Franco grins, teasing. “Candy? Well, you know, candy are only for good kids mi amor. Are you sure you’ve been good today?”

Emma pulls the most adorable pout. “Yes! I’ve been good!”

You can’t help but laugh as you take off your coat, watching their back-and-forth. “Franco, stop messing with her, she’s been perfect all day. Plus, you’re the first one to cave when she gives you those puppy eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, still playful. “Hey, it’s not my fault she has your look. How am I supposed to resist?”

While Emma settles in the living room with some toys, you and Franco get started on dinner in the kitchen. You’re chopping veggies while he’s distracted, digging around in the fridge. But it’s clear his mind’s not really on food. When he shuts the fridge door, you can feel him right behind you before he even says a word.

Without looking back, you call out, “Franco, I know you’re there. Don’t even think about it, I’m busy.”

“Me? I just wanted to… watch,” he says in a teasing, innocent voice.

You feel his hands rest lightly on your hips, and he leans in close to your ear, his voice low and soft. “But honestly, babe, after a day like today, I think I deserve a little reward.”

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. Holding your knife, you turn slightly towards him. “Franco, Emma is literally three feet away. Can you calm down a bit?”

“Calm? Me? Baby, I’m perfectly calm.” His hands glide gently over your hips, pulling you a little closer to him.

You feel his warm breath on your neck as he adds in a more provocative tone, “But you know, I missed you, and it’s your fault. With you in the same room as me… How am I supposed to stay focused?”

A soft laugh escapes you, though you try to keep a straight face. “Franco, let go of me. And stop with your nonsense before I cut you off a finger.”

He leans in further to plant a light kiss just below your ear, making your cheeks heat up. “Oh, I promise I can distract you in a much more fun way…”

Blushing, you say, “Franco!” before turning completely around to try to push him away. But he stays right where he is, that cocky grin you know so well on his lips.

“What? I’m just trying to help…” He glances down at the cutting board, then back up at you, amused. “But honestly, cutting carrots isn’t really my thing. I prefer when you do other things with your hands…”

You’re left speechless, shocked by his insinuation, but before you can respond, he bursts out laughing.

“Franco, I swear, if you keep this up, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you say, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head with a charming smile. “On the couch? Oh, babe, you know I can’t sleep far from you.”

He moves even closer, his lips almost brushing yours. “And neither can you,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, but he sees your smile starting to give away your amusement. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“Oh, I know. But admit it, that’s why you love me.”

Before you can reply, he captures your lips in a soft kiss that quickly turns more passionate. You both completely forget where you are.

A little voice suddenly rings out from the kitchen entrance. “Ewwww!”

You both jump apart, caught red-handed. Emma stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, with an exaggerated grimace.

“What are you doing? Why are you kissing like that? It’s disgusting!”

Franco takes a small step back, a mischievous smile on his lips, while you turn bright red. “Nothing at all, Emma. Uncle Franco is just… annoying,” you quickly reply.

Emma, narrowing her eyes, asks curiously, “Annoying? Why? Did he steal a candy?”

Franco laughs and crouches down to Emma’s level. “No, little princess, it’s because your Aunt Y/N is really beautiful, and I love giving her kisses. And even though she pretends otherwise, I promise you she loves when—”

A well-placed dish towel smacks him on the shoulder, and interrupts his sentence. He rubs his shoulder, laughing out loud, before adding, “Plus, you see, princess. If I had stolen a candy, I’m sure Aunt Y/N would have already punished me.”

You hold your head in your hands, tired of his antics, while Emma looks at him skeptically before changing the subject.

“I’m hungry. Is it ready?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give us five minutes,” you say with a smile.

She nods and heads back to the living room, but not without a final warning. “Uncle Fran, be careful. If you bother Aunt too much, I’ll tell Santa.”

Franco raises his hands, amused. “Promise, princess, I’ll be good.”

You shake your head with a mix of amusement and frustration. “See what you’ve done? Even Emma is wary of you now.”

He shrugs. “But baby, I can also try to be really good with you… but I’m not sure you’ll like that version.”

You give him a light elbow in the ribs, but your laughter betrays you—despite everything, you adore him

After dinner, you all crash on the couch.

“Auntie Y/N, can we watch Frozen?” Emma asks, her big eyes all hopeful, her stuffed animal gripped tight like it’s her lifeline.

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Again? Haven’t we watched it, like, ten times already this year?”

Franco, clearly enjoying this, jumps in.

“Come on, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. Let It Go is a masterpiece. I’m all in.”

You look at him, half amused, half annoyed.

“Really, Franco? Don’t encourage her, she’ll want to watch it three times tonight.”

Franco grins and winks at you.

“I’m ready to duet with her if that’ll win you over.”

Emma bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“Yes, Uncle Fran, sing with me!”

You roll your eyes but give in anyway.

“Alright, alright. But you two watch and sing, and I’ll just chill and nap through it like always.”

You all settle on the couch: Franco in the middle, you on his left, and Emma on his right, all snuggled up with her stuffed animal. The movie starts, and Emma is totally hooked from the opening scene. Franco, though, keeps sneaking glances at you, grinning as you try not to give in to the song.

Franco, whispering: “Admit it, you’re gonna get up and dance when Elsa sings.”

You glance at him, not buying it.

“In your dreams, Colapinto.”

“Oh, trust me, my dreams are way better than that.”

You nudge him playfully, but he grabs your hand and kisses it gently, still smiling.

“Ugh, stop kissing!” Emma says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laugh out loud, and Franco raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, princess, no more kisses in front of you. Promise.”

Emma nods happily and turns back to the movie.

As the movie goes on, Emma starts blinking slowly, her energy fading fast. You’ve leaned your head against Franco’s shoulder, half asleep yourself. Franco wraps an arm around your waist, the other one around Emma, who’s finally asleep against him, her stuffed animal still clutched tight.

Franco, whispering, glancing at you: “She’s pretty cute, huh?”

You close your eyes, barely mumbling.

“Yeah, she is. You’re not too bad as Uncle Fran either.”

Franco smiles softly and plants a kiss on top of your head.

Soon enough, all three of you are knocked out.

An hour later, your brother arrives, using his spare key after knocking with no answer. He freezes when he walks in, seeing you and Franco both out cold on the couch, with Emma curled up between you two, her stuffed animal still held close.

He stands there for a second, just watching, a soft smile on his face. Finally, you wake up a little, hearing a noise. You open your eyes, confused, and jump when you see your brother.

“Whoa, you scared me!” you whisper, panicked.

Your brother grins and says, “I’m here to pick up Emma. But… honestly, you guys are cute like this.”

Blushing, you sit up carefully so you don’t wake Emma.

“I’ll wake Franco.”

You shake him lightly, and he blinks his eyes open, looking half-dazed.

“What? What’s going on? Let me sleep a bit longer, please…”

You laugh, saying, “Wake up, my brother’s here to get Emma.”

Franco slowly sits up, but Emma, still asleep, clings to him like a little koala.

“No… stay…” she mumbles, half awake.

Franco gives you a soft look and smiles.

“I’ll carry her to the car.”

Franco walks your brother to the car with Emma in his arms. She stirs a little but doesn’t wake fully, and Franco takes advantage of that to buckle her into the car seat without a fight.

Your brother, smiling, says, “Thanks for watching her. She had a great day.”

Franco, grinning: “It was fun. She’s awesome, your little one.”

Just before leaving, your brother adds, “Hey, you guys mind keeping her next weekend? Just for a night?”

Before you can answer, Franco jumps in.

“Of course! We’d love to!”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“He’s gonna steal her from you, watch out.”

You all laugh before saying goodbyes.

When you and Franco finally got home, you were completely exhausted. Franco shut the door behind you, kicking off his shoes with a sigh of relief, while you collapsed on the couch, arms spread out like you’d just finished a marathon.

“Man, I didn’t think a five-year-old could be so… energetic.”

Franco flopped down next to you.

“She’s adorable, but yeah… I’m wiped. How does your brother survive every day? Does he have special training or something?”

You burst out laughing, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It must be in their DNA. I still haven’t recovered from today.”

Franco wrapped an arm around you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, Colapinto, you thinking about starting a career in babysitting?”

“Maybe. I mean, I’m pretty good at it.”

“Admit it, you’re a little jealous that Emma preferred me. She wanted to hang out with Uncle Fran all day.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, stop. She liked you because you spoiled her. Mr. ‘I’ll skate, sing Let It Go, and have a tea party dressed as a princess with an Elsa headband.’ I can’t compete with that.”

Franco, amused, protested.

“What?! I looked amazing in that headband, and you know it.”

“Amazing, maybe. Ridiculous, definitely.”

You both burst into laughter, your shoulders shaking with exhaustion. Franco turned slightly toward you, his playful look softening into something more serious.

“Honestly, though, I had a great day. Emma’s awesome. But you weren’t bad either. Even though you freaked out on the ice and ended up falling into me.”

You gave him a mockingly outraged slap on the arm.

Franco gave you a heated look.

“What? I’m just saying you were irresistible. You remember on the ice? Clinging to me like your life depended on it? It was almost sexy, babe.”

“Stop teasing me! I thought we were gonna die out there!”

Franco smiled, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Die? A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Blushing, you snapped back.

“Stop it! And I remind you, it’s your fault we fell.”

“Me?! Baby, I was holding you, but you panicked like we were about to die. You were literally clinging to me like I was your last hope.”

You gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.

“Well, you were supposed to be my last hope, Mr. Know-It-All.”

You both laughed again, but this time, the laughter faded, leaving a softer silence between you. Franco looked at you, his teasing expression giving way to something more serious.

“You know… watching her today, playing with her… it got me thinking.”

You looked at him curiously.

“Thinking about what?”

“About us. Maybe one day. Not now, obviously! I know it’s not the time. But… have you ever imagined yourself, you know, with a kid?”

You paused for a moment, your face showing a mix of surprise and tenderness.

“Honestly… I don’t know. It’s scary, right? Being a parent, it’s so much responsibility. And look at me, I couldn’t even convince a little girl to put on her hat properly today.”

Franco smiled softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but you’d be amazing. Seriously. You have this way of making everything seem easier. Even today, with Emma, you were great.”

To lighten the mood, you teased him.

“Great? Are you sure we lived through the same day?”

“Absolutely. You were sweet, caring… a little panicked on the ice, but hey, nobody’s perfect.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly.

“And you? Mr. Perfect Uncle Fran. You really see yourself as a dad?”

Franco took a deep breath, thinking it over.

“Yeah… I think I could be. Today, when Emma looked at me with those big eyes and asked if I could carry her… it was like I really mattered to her, you know? And… I liked it.”

You looked at him, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“You know, you’d be a really great dad.”

Franco turned his head toward you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Is that a subtle way of telling me something, babe?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

“No, not yet. But I see it, you’ve got a way with kids. She adores you. And you were amazing with her. I think you’d be an incredible dad.”

Franco shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Of course I would be. With you by my side, we’d make an awesome team.”

You gave him an amused look.

“You really know how to flatter a girl, huh?”

Franco gently pulled you closer.

“I’m just telling the truth. And who knows? Maybe one day, our little boy or girl will beg you to sing Let It Go with me.”

You burst into laughter, resting your head against his chest.

“If that happens, we’ll have to wait a while. For now, we’ve got a lot on our plates. But maybe one day…”

Franco kissed your forehead, gently squeezing your hand.

“One day, then. But only if you promise not to freak out on the ice in front of our future kid.”

“Promise… but only if you promise never to wear an Elsa headband again.”

You both laughed again, and you snuggled a little closer to him. The day had been long, but in this quiet moment, everything felt just right. Together.