#gift for partner

[quelend-underground]

Painting of my dog <333

Detailing this was both a pain and a pleasure, I love suffering for my wife

[zyphnn]

wintery/holiday fiddauthor magma doodles 🫶🫶 they make me SICK.

[mazojo]

Me when the boyfriend that doesn’t know he is my boyfriend breaks up with me unknowingly so to marry his alleged 6 month pregnant girlfriend instead of becoming Batman and Robin with me holding hands while saving the world to complete my 360 vision or something

[lotus-pear]

lore accurate chuuya canonically drives a 2006 sparkly barbie motorcycle

[suwisuwii]

Girl with the Gentlemage's Umbrella

[pendwelling]

only the best of gifts for our holy knights! 🌙🔥🌊

[thesummerstorms]

Okay, but what if Lucanis does buy Rook de Riva an important (mage)knife.

He gets knives, he has a good weaponsmith, but mages don't use their knives as much for stabbing/slashing directly as channeling elemental magic to stab with, so he goes to Emmrich and asks for the simplest, most paired down explanation of crafting materials' effect on magical frequencies that is humanly possible, specifically as it applies to knives.

Emmrich reminds Lucanis that he is in fact a stave user, but Rook would be a good person to ask.

Lucanis grits his teeth because he can tell from the older man's smile that Emmrich is having some fun at his expense. Of course Emmrich knows it's for Arsinoë. Lucanis hadn't wanted to be that obvious, but he can admit that it is.

Unfortunately, even when sincere, Emmrich is incapable of simple. Poor Lucanis knew this going in, of course and decided on Emmrich anyway because Neve would catch on too quickly and spoil her own gift and Bellara was equally incapable of simple and more prone to distracted tangents. It doesn't mean he's any more prepared to make sense of all this, and in the end he has to take Emmrich to meet his weaponsmith directly.

(The resulting "collaborative brainstorming session" almost scared Lucanis, put his favorite weaponsmith in a mind to possible shift specialties entirely, and cost House Dellamorte the price of a fully functional forge. It's still worth it.)

The end result is a beautiful piece of everite that feels vividly like the air in a storm in Rook's hands yet looks deceptively crystalline and fragile. It immediately becomes her favorite, unlike the vanished knife he gave Viago all those years ago, and from her shy smiles, he likes to think this time he's been understood.

Altogether, things are going well for once. If he feels more pride than maybe is reasonable every time he sees the everite blade in her hands alive with magic that cuts through a Venatori, then that's between him and Spite.

And Arsinoë. And Neve. And honestly everyone else because he's so terrible at hiding it.

All is going well, for once.

Until Tearstone Island, when he wakes up to Neve's anguished face, purple shards like crystal that cut through his gloves as he reaches for the snapped blade and severed hilt, his blood mixing with the sand, and-

and no Rook.

[chernychnyi]

your image

[piratefalls]

i deeply hate the idea that buck would just not think to give his boyfriend something for their anniversary, so imagine for a second that buck didn't necessarily forget to get tommy something, he just thought too far ahead and got him a christmas gift instead.

because even before his conversation with josh, buck had thought about the future and seen tommy there with him. he saw tommy sat next to him at maddie and chim's table at thanksgiving with their family, plates full of food bobby insisted on cooking, sharing what they’re all thankful for. imagined tommy’s big, warm hand on his thigh as they dozed on the couch. that he'd had visions of a perfect christmas season together. imagined tommy in his sweatpants wrapping garland around the banister in the loft; the way they would have kissed under the mistletoe buck would have hung from every door frame just so he could feel tommy's lips against his again and again; murmuring i love yous and slow dancing in the warm light of the tree they'd picked out together. of waking up wrapped around each other on christmas morning, tommy's nose buried in the curve of his neck. he'd imagined it being their first of many.

but he'd been so excited about the future that he hadn't considered that maybe they weren’t on the same page. he hadn’t anticipated the way tommy's smile got smaller as buck went on and on that night, the light in his eyes dimming as buck talked about how much he admired tommy, the way tommy looked like he was breaking his own heart when he told buck that he was his first, not his last. that for all he'd imagined different scenarios in which they said those three words, he'd never actually said them. and then tommy had walked out, taking the way evan sounded rolling off his tongue with him.

and now instead of planning out a perfect holiday, buck, surrounded by the detritus of yet another round of baking, is staring at a box holding the custom ornament he'd ordered a month ago. with no tree to hang it on and no boyfriend to gift it to, he goes ahead and takes it out. the glass is delicate, with holly leaves etched around the top. the bottom is stained a perfect ocean blue, tommy and evan's first christmas in looping white text, breaking the flow of the painted waves. but the most important part, the one thing he'd insisted on, was the small crystal helicopter hanging inside. he loves it, and he thinks tommy would too. buck wonders if it would seem desperate to try to give it to him now, or if it would hurt more to keep it and pretend it isn't there. staring at it isn't helping him decide what to do.

what he does know right now is that he needs sleep. he sighs as he puts the ornament back in its box. he goes to bed hoping the morning will bring an answer.

[loony-bear]

Ř̵̞̜̣͈̌́͜ō̵̰͛̽M̸̨̨̗͔̉̀̾æ̶̞̲̮̒̑͌n̵̘̻̳̳͗̃̋͌c̵̘̺̋̌͋̕e̶̪̫̹̻͋̓̅̅͘ͅ ̸̧̣̞͍̦̿P̵̃̊̓̈͜æ̸̘̥̩̝̓́̂r̵̛͇̼͙̂̿̅̾ṱ̵̜̃̋̄͆͌ñ̶̬̀͆ę̷̦̼̘͗͛̌̀r̵̗̓͊

[peachdues]

I’m getting slammed at work rn and I’m going on a mini-vacation later this week, so don’t have a ton of time to write. In the meantime, enjoy a small peek at Part II of The Great War

First, he took her shopping.

The idea had been to give her whatever she needed, having little in the way of possessions. Giyuu insisted she get whatever she wanted and not to concern herself with cost.

Easier said than done.

Not once in the more than one year he’d known her, had Giyuu ever seen Y/N shy. Yet, as they browsed the small stalls lining the lively street market, or turned about the tailor shops boasting an array of exquisite silk kimonos and fabrics, his fiance remained remarkably subdued. And though he’d insisted she pick out whatever caught her eye, Y/N stayed quiet.

He knew it was likely she was overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of it all, and so, as they left their third shop empty-handed, Giyuu resolved to make the trip as easy as possible for her.

Anything she touched — anything she lingered on for more than a moment, he purchased.

No matter how she tried to dissuade him.

“Giyuu, this is far too much —“

“I have the means,” he replied simply, nodding at the shopkeeper who’d presented them a rather extravagant hair comb that had made his beloved’s eyes go wide. “More than I know what to do with, actually.”

“These are your earnings! You should spend them on yourself — purchase something you desire.”

“Everything I desire is currently standing beside me, protesting how I choose to spoil her.” And Giyuu flashed her a small smile meant only for her eyes before he returned to his casual perusal of fine baubles laid out before him. “There is nothing more I could want.”

—

BONUS!

Giyuu pressed his lips to the Miko’s ear and his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Wear that later.”

wants her to put it on so he can take it off yk (or fuck her in it)

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

you

MEEE ME MEEEEEEE

[sincerely-sofie]

[copypastus]

"You never told me where you got it - where you got all my favourite dresses." Rhys arched a dark brow. "You never figured it out?" I shook my head. For a moment, he said nothing, his head dipping to study the dress. "My mother made them." (...) I gazed a reverant hand down my sleeve. "I- I had no idea." His eyes were star bright. "Long ago when I was still a boy, she made them - all your gowns. A trousseau for my future bride." His throat bobbed. "Every piece... Every piece I have ever given you to wear, she made them. For you"

Sometimes you just read something and can't help but think about the implications.

"aww how sweet his mom made all her favourite gowns how wholesome" nonono EVERY. PIECE. Ma'am please he's still a baby boy you're making a lot of assumptions about his future preferences.

[arachnerd-8-legs]

get needle felted. idiot

[canisalbus]

I have sighthounds (greyhounds) at home and I just love your characters!! (hope you do not mind silly art) So.... what if Machete.... but borzoi >:D

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