#winter coats for newborns

[mini-kids-clothing-shop]

Girls Christmas Grinch Snuggle Fleece Pyjama Set

♥Dress Your Kids for Less - Shop the Sale Today!♥👏Hey there, fashion lovers! Girls Christmas Grinch Snuggle Fleece Pyjama Set🎁 Price Only 👉 £15.00👕👚 Visit - https://www.minikidz.co.uk/products/girls-christmas-grinch-snuggle-fleece-pyjama-setDEALS & OFFERS - Get Up To 15% Off When You Spend £15 + Free Shipping Over £25.Snuggle your little one in style with our Grinch-themed pyjama set, made from super-soft plush fleece. This cosy two-piece includes a long-sleeve, round-neck top and matching bottoms with an elastic waistband and open hem for a perfect fit. Ideal for cosy evenings in! Doubles as pyjama and lounge set Warm and cosy plush fabric Festive Grinch themed design Long Sleeves Elasticated waistband Relaxed comfort fit Machine washable Material: 100% Super Soft Plush Fleece Polyester 🏬 Shop now! 👕👚 (Please note:All prices & promo code are subject to change without notice and are not guaranteed.)

[reiding-writing]

sweet Spencer realizing he has feelings for cold!Reader? I'm obsessed

OH NO. [ONESHOT]

/oʊ noʊ/

Spencer makes a (rather terrifying) revelation in relation to his ice-hearted coworker, who might not actually be all that ice-hearted.

WARNINGS: fem!reader

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 2.3k || series masterlist!

a/n: based on the fact that it was 1°C when i left my house yesterday and i was freezing

main masterlist!!

Sometimes, Spencer Reid hated living in Virginia.

The temperature always felt colder than it did back in Vegas, no matter whether it was in the dead of winter or in the middle of summer, and for someone who didn’t have the best temperature regulation already, that just spelled extra issues for Spencer to deal with on top of everything else.

It was March for god’s sake, why was it only 40 degrees?

He walks into the office bundled up like a newborn baby, with a shirt, a vest, and a coat on, with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and knitted gloves on his hands.

He sits down in his desk chair with all the grace of an elephant trying to do ballet, the chair squeaking under his weight as he basically throws himself into it.

Morgan starts laughing almost immediately. “You look like you’ve just stepped out of Antarctica-”

“It’s cold,”

“It’s not that cold,”

“Those who have issues with temperature regulation are more susceptible to extreme temperature fluctuations when the weather changes,” Spencer rubs his hands together through his gloves in the hope that the kinetic energy will spread through his hands and warm the rest of his body.

“And let me guess, you’re one of those people?” Morgan raises his eyebrow with a smirk.

“Yes Morgan, I’m one of those people,” Spencer’s exasperated response is enough to send Morgan over the edge into laughter.

“Will you quiet down, it’s 8 in the morning for god’s sake,” Your arrival is announced with your usual snark, tiredness still lacing your tone as you walk around the two to reach your own desk opposite Spencer’s and pull a white beanie from your head to stuff it in the pocket of your coat.

“Sorry-”

“Not you Reid,” Despite the fact that you’re dismissing him as the recipient of your annoyance, it still sounds like you’re angry at him.

“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Morgan nudges Spencer like he’s speaking to him privately, but is raised enough that he knows you’ve heard it too. “You would’ve thought she’d be elated, she’s in her element now the temperature’s dropping,”

“I can hear you.” you scoff out your words as you unpack your bag on your desk.

“Oh I know, it’s more fun when you can hear me,” Morgan takes a sip from the mug in his hands with a smirk, leaning back in his chair once he’s decided you’d endured enough of his teasing for now.

You spend the next ten or so minutes in silence as everyone sets themselves up for the day. Everyone except Spencer evidently, who is still sat with all of his outerwear on despite the office being internally heated.

“Will you stop shaking?” Spencer turns his eyes away from his frozen hands at your question, although phrased more like an instruction under your usual tone. “I can see it in my peripheral vision and it’s distracting,”

“Oh um- I’m sorry,” Spencer clutched both of his hands tight together in an attempt to forcibly stop them from shaking.

“Don’t apologise, go make yourself a cup of coffee or something, those gloves aren’t doing anything to help you,”

“Right- Yeah,” Spencer takes your advice with a nod, standing up from his desk to practically run over to the kitchenette like your word was law.

“I know what you’re doing Ice Queen,” Morgan tilts his head knowingly at you as you watch Spencer scamper around the corner and out of sight, and you don’t turn your gaze towards him even after Spencer leaves your field of vision.

“I’m not doing anything,”

“You care about Reid’s well being,” He throws a balled up post-it note in your direction, hitting you in the side of your head and acting as an incentive to look in his direction, shooting daggers at the bridge of his nose. “You can’t hide it from me sweetheart, your icy façade is melting as we speak,”

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes as you stand up from your chair, exiting the conversation with a scoff as you walk around the bullpen and disappear into the unisex bathroom.

You still haven’t returned by the time Spencer walks back to his desk with a steaming mug of coffee cradled in both hands, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at your empty desk chair as he took his seat.

“She just went to the bathroom genius she hasn’t disappeared off the face of the earth,” Morgan laughs in amusement at Spencer’s expression, staring at your chair like his gaze will magically will you into existence.

Then his vision goes dark, and he can hear Morgan’s laughter escalate. He’s not sure exactly what’s happening at first, but as his wind-chilled ears begin to warm and his eyelashes catch on something as he tries to open his eyes he realises that his vision has been physically obstructed by something.

He pulls up on the material covering his eyes, and like a magic trick, where your chair was empty before you are now sitting in it, head lowered to hide behind the screen of your computer monitor as Morgan continues to chortle at the two of you.

It’s a quick realisation that what was previously covering his eyes was a hat, specifically the white beanie that you’d walked into the office wearing this morning.

“What did I say?” Morgan gestures outwards with his hands like he’d proved some point to you that Spencer was clearly ignorant to.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll pull out all your teeth and do it for you,”

“Ooh I’m so scared, Reid protect me from this absolute monster,” Morgan presses his hand to his chest dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a smirk etched onto his face.

Spencer doesn’t so much as spare Morgan a glance at his comment, blankly staring in your direction as his brain computes what exactly had just happened. He was wearing your hat now? You’d put your hat on his head? You’d walked over, taken your hat, and physically put it on his head?

Under normal circumstances he’s sure he’d die of embarrassment at so much as the thought of having something that personally belonged to you in his possession, let alone be actually wearing something the belonged to you and invaded his olfactory neurons with your scent.

Yet here he was, so absolutely dumbfounded by your actions that he didn’t even have the mental capacity to be embarrassed.

“Reid,” Morgan nudges his shoulder, and Spencer turns to him with wide eyes and a half-absent expression.

“Huh?”

“Wow, look what you did to him, he’s completely shut down,” Morgan throws another balled up post-it in your direction, hitting you in the shoulder this time, and you bite your tongue as you turn your head up to look at the two boys across from you once more.

Your eyes are narrowed as you glare in Morgan’s direction, but he takes no notice of it whatsoever as he gestures towards Spencer with his head, smirking all the while.

Your gaze is substantially softer once your eyes flicker over to the boy sitting opposite you. The hat really seems to complete the whole ‘just stepped out of a blizzard’ look that Spencer’s outfit seemed to radiate, and the bright red of his cheeks seemed to amplify that look tenfold.

“Are you still cold?” You ask the question like you’re annoyed at him, and he takes it as your irritation from Morgan’s constant teasing bleeding into your speech rather than you genuinely being irked by him. After all, you had gone out of your way to help him warm up right? Then again that could’ve been because you just didn’t want to watch him shiver anymore. You did say it was distracting-

“Reid.” He turns his eyes up towards you as you speak his name with all the conviction of an aggrieved high school teacher.

“Yes? I mean- Not ‘yes’ I’m cold- ‘yes’ like I’m paying attention- You know- Uh-” You hold up a hand to stop Spencer from spinning into a spiral as he tries to elaborate on what his response meant.

“You’re not cold anymore?” You keep your eyes trained on him as you ask the question, emphasising it a way that indicated you wanted a straight answer from him and not some half baked explanation of why he was/wasn’t.

“No… Well, my hands are-” Spencer stops himself prematurely with a shake of his head. “No- No I’m not cold anymore, I’m okay now,”

“Your hands are still cold?”

Spencer nods, looking down at his hands sheepishly as if they've betrayed him.

You watch Spencer's hands for a moment before making a decision. With a resigned sigh, you reach into your coat pocket and pull out a small red hand warmer, holding it out over the divide between your desks to offer it to him without a word.

Spencer's eyes widen in surprise as he takes the hand warmer from you, a sinking feeling shooting through his chest as your fingers brush his. But it wasn’t the kind he’d grown accustomed to when speaking to you.

There wasn’t a shred of intimidation or lingering insecurity, it didn’t send a chill down his spine or make him feel the need to curl into himself, it instead left a strangely comfortable warmth in it’s wake, one that was quickly proving to be more useful at warming him up than the gel packet held between his fingertips.

It was a sensation he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually felt before, and his mind couldn’t make up whether it’s origin was the temperature difference in your hands as they brushed each other and the inherent warmth of your hand graced his, or whether it was an internal situation where your silent act of consideration was literally tricking his body into believing it was warmer just as a result of your actions.

Either way, he suddenly felt very warm.

He fumbles with the warmer for a second before tugging off his gloves and snapping the small disk to start the chemical reaction. "Thanks," he murmurs, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Don't mention it," you reply, turning back to your computer screen with complete nonchalance in your tone.

Spencer nods softly at your response, rolling the packet between the palms of his hands as his eyes linger on your face even after you look away.

Spencer’s beginning to be increasingly distracted from his files by thoughts of you. Your hidden kindness, your wit, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way you chew on the end of your pen when you're concentrating, the way your nose scrunches up when you're deep in thought-

He realises, with a jolt, that he's falling for you.

It hits him like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, he's paralysed with a mix of astonishment and fear. How had he not noticed it before? He's never been good at relationships, maybe that’s why. He didn’t exactly know what constituted as real feelings for someone.

Morgan watches the exchange with a smirk, but there's something softer in his expression as he looks between the two of you, specifically towards the puddle of Spencer’s emotions showing all over his face. He clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence.

"Well, now that everyone's warm and cozy, shall we get to work?" he says, trying to inject some levity into the situation.

Spencer nods, already diving into the case file on his desk as a means of desperately trying to get the image of your face and the feeling of your fingers brushing against his hand out of his head. You follow suit, the warmth spreading through the bullpen as you all settle into your routine.

He tries to focus on the case at hand, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. He remembers the feeling of your hand brushing against his, the way his heart had fluttered in his chest at the contact. It's a feeling he can't quite shake, and he's not sure he wants to. That was the worst part.

Oh no.

[hiiikiko]

𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 | 𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘

tlou m.list

it was your first christmas with your girlfriend, ellie, so you wanted to make is special of course! so, like the sweet girlfriend you are, you scored tickets to a nearby ice skating rink.

“babeeee, guess what i got,” you giggle, hiding the tickets behind you’re back as you approach your girlfriend, who’s meticulously crafting a gingerbread ‘house’…. if you can call it that.. it looks more like a gingerbread demolition scene…

“hm?” she hums out as she licks a bit of icing off her thumb and glances up at you.

“ta-da!” you giggle, waving the tickets in front of her face, her eyebrows narrow and a small pout forms on her face.

“what’s this?”

“tickets to that ice skating rink a town over, remember? jesse and dina told us about it,” you pout as you take a seat across from her, scooping some icing off the house and licking it.

“I don’t know about this,” she sighs and swats your hand away from taking another lick.

“ughhh, come on,” you plead, “it’s our first christmas together! i wanna make it memorable.. then every christmas after this we can look back at this..”

ellie’s ears perk up, “every christmas after, huh?” she smirks, quirking her eyebrow, “so you plan on having me stick around for more than one christmas?”

you playfully roll your eyes, “we’ll have to see how this one goes first, wont we?”

And that’s how the two of you ended up at the skating rink.

Hopping our of Ellie’s old ford and running over to the edge of the rink as she followed closely behind felt like a dream. The sound of children laughing, the smell of hot cocoa and the crisp winter air, the frosty breeze nipping at your cheeks, causing blood to rush to them and dust a soft pink over them.. it was all so ethereal. What made it even more so, was how your girlfriend was dressed, wearing a grey hoodie with a carthartt jacket over, black straight legged jeans, and a beanie you had given her for her birthday. Your outfit was simple: a scarf Ellie had given you earlier in the year when the last few blizzards were still sticking around, a white skirt, pink winter coat, knitted leg warmers, tights, and a matching pink beanie to go with your scarf.

“come on,” you giggle as you pull ellie over to the shack where you get your ice skates.

“ugh, you’re so energetic,” ellie laughs, letting you pull her along.

after getting your skates, the two of you walk over to a nearby bench and put them on.

“here, let me,” ellie mutters as she gets down on her knee and begins to lace them for you, her eyes fixed downwards.. you could practically count each one of her eyelashes..

“thanks,” you smile as she helps you to her feet.

the two of you made your way over to the rink, wobbling the entire way.

you clutched onto the railing for dear life, your legs shaking like a newborn calf. you glance around, not seeing ellie anywhere in sight.

traitor, did she skate off?

just as you’re about to let out a huff, you turn around to see ellie doing the very same. your usually coolheaded girlfriend has a painfully nervous expression on her face as she clutches onto the railing, her legs shaking as well as she tries to straighten herself up.

you let our a laugh, “you don’t know how to skate?”

she shoots a glare up at you, “what? no! wh-why would i?! i thought you knew how to skate, that’s why you invited me!”

you fall into a fit of laughter, losing your grip on the railing and falling on your ass, yet, you could not stop laughing.

ellie attempts to make her way over to you, only for her to fall on you, the only thing stopping you two from head butting each other is her arm clinging to the rail.

your faces mere inches apart, your hot breath forming a small cloud of fog as you stare into her pretty green eyes.

“this making for a memorable christmas yet?” she murmurs, her eyes flickering down to your lips.

“it’s not the way i pictured it but.. yeah, it’ll be memorable for sure,” you giggle as she presses her forehead against yours.

“merry christmas, babe,” she whispers before closing the gap and laying a tender kiss on your cold, soft lips.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ you find a thong on Joel’s backpack and you don’t know what to think, turning things awkward just before the holidays.

warnings_corny Christmas pick up lines, AGE GAP (20s/50s) but not specified, smidge of angst (reader’s fault) , fluff, chill mom!reader, pervy hubby! Joel, Christmas shit and a silly argument. NO PROOFREAD YET SORRY

notes_ fallacy family having their first Christmas together omg, it’s almost two years since I started the series and yet here we are, brb I’ll go cry.

• Fallacy series m.list (recommended to read)

♫ ♪ Pedro playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

Celebrating the holidays in the apocalypse was not easy. In fact, the world had forgotten about holidays. For twenty years, days like Christmas or New Year’s Eve had no longer meaning.

But not in Jackson. Right after thanksgiving, the town would start preparing for the lovely event. According to Maria, children received a little present and a big dinner was made. In the previous weeks, the town dressed up with ornaments, mistletoe everywhere and the smell of ginger and mint was all around. Almost like outside the world hadn’t change. But for you and your family, that came from a lot of suffering, you would not allow them to complain.

You had picked up your decoration’s box. One was given to each house of Jackson, to add more personal decorations. However, you picked up yours a little late, since it was your first Christmas in town.

You finished teaching early, giving you time to arrive home, meet your daughter and decorate the house with Ellie.

Cerise was about to turn three months old, she was growing, getting curly hair like her father, but she remained tiny, fussy and adamant. She kept doing the famous newborn scrunch and Joel often made fun of her farts, making you roll your eyes and criticize him for making fun of his daughter.

“Ellie, you’re home?” You asked taking off your boots and coat, placing your bag in the entrance. “Yup, Maria left like ten minutes ago”

Ellie appeared carrying Cerise, who was sleeping. The teenager handed you the baby and you smiled at her.

“Thanks. Hey, I got the decoration for the house, Wanna help me?” Ellie was not excited for Christmas but you could tell she loved being around you and Cerise.

“Sure”

“But-!” Then she rolled her eyes. “You must show me your costume for the charity”

“Oh f- you, y/n” you started laughing, trying to remain calm to not disturb Cerise “I look like shit in it!”

“Please!”

It was past midday when you were done making dinner. A warm soup made the whole to smell like winter and tranquility. Cerise had taken a bath, even Ellie was already in pajamas. It was then, while cleaning the kitchen, that you found Joel’s lunchbox in the little shelves you had beside the refrigerator.

“Silly man” you mumbled to yourself, grabbing the lunchbox.

In the living room, Ellie was reading a comic while Cerise was in her little baby gym.

“I’m dropping this to Joel. Mind if you stay here with Cerise?” The girls shrugs, eyes never leaving her comic. “Yeah, go on”

“Thanks, Ellie. I’ll be quick”

…

That day, Joel was working to build a new layer for the gates that protected Jackson. The team started the new layer before summer ended, even before Cerise was born. And now, near Christmas, it was almost done.

At the sight of your old man, you smiled. He went back to his short hair, just like when you met him in Boston. His belly was gone and his back pain diminished. Joel was in his best form, shape and condition.

“Hey, Texas!” You called him, making some of his buddies to look as well.

At the sight of you, the youngest started doing silly things to make your husband uncomfortable but truth is, Joel was only smiling at the sight of you. But soon turned worried.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” he asks, taking off his thick gloves, offering you a playful smile. “Are you alright? Cerise and Ellie?”

“We’re fine, dear. You just forgot your lunch…”

You brought him a sandwich and cranberry juice, it’s was cold and since your old man couldn’t get up early because he was so warm under the blankets with you, he missed his lunch.

“I thought- never mind. Thanks, baby”

Joel sighed, relieved. He grabbed the lunchbox and looked at you so lovingly, that it made you chuckle.

“What now, Texas?” You ask rolling your eyes, crossing your arms.

“God, I just want to get home, shower a you to give me a blowjob”

“A snowjob!” He glares at you with disdain and rolls his eyes before chuckling, catching the Christmas reference.

“Good lord, shut up” he had grown used to the age gap, but sometimes he remembered how full of life you were compared to him.“C’mere, baby”

He kissed you as usual because nobody was around. He would never hide his feelings for you again, but he remained reserved and preferred to be private when it came to you. Either way, everyone in Jackson knew he married you and had a baby together.

Cerise was a famous baby after all.

“There’s soup and flourless biscuits for dinner. I’m almost done with the Christmas decorations. I’m just saving the tree because I want to do it with you” Joel smiled, something you genuinely loved.

Ever since you gave birth, Joel had changed drastically, being open towards you and very understanding. Things had never felt so good.

“I’ll be at home before the sunset” you nod at him, standing on your tip toes, which he immediately understands and leans over to give you a big kiss. You felt relived and happy. Lucky you to stick along a grumpy unstable senior that turned out the most humble and loving husband.

“Don’t be late, Texas” he rolls his eyes to then kiss you again. “I won’t, baby”

As you walk away, you hear some chattering from Joel’s workmates, probably making fun of him for being a sweetheart towards you. And you don’t miss the female laughter calling him.

There is no reason to mistrust. Joel would never. The last time you both had a similar argument was when Freya, the town’s nurse, actively tried to make some moves on your already husband.

Either way, there are some days where you feel that too much positivity has a price. Like it’s not normal for you to be completely happy and in peace. Perhaps it’s the years of suffering and misery that remain haunting you. Making you believe that Joel would one day walk out, towards complete freedom like he once wanted.

…

Well, Joel was late indeed. You got mad and you started eating with Cerise and Ellie. You placed a plate with a big portion of food for Joel and then you sent your kids to sleep. As you were cleaning the dishes, you didn’t think too much about Joel being absent. Anything could happen at work, your take was that they had finished the new layer and decided to take longer than needed just to be done.

Whatever, you kept cleaning the dishes and didn’t hear your husband was entering the warm house.

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. We finished the layer…”

Bingo.

“That’s okay, honey” you simply say without looking at him. “I thought of it…”

“Let me eat and then we can decorate the tree” Joel says, trying to make it up for his absence, standing behind you and softly caressing your shoulders.

“Just eat, Joel. You haven’t eaten anything after I dropped your lunch…” your hands finish cleaning the dishes, you dry up and finally face your man. “You sure? I’m up for the Christmas tree…”

“No, I’m tired. Let’s go get warm in the bed…” he nods, smiling at the sight of his wonderful wife. The same woman he met years ago, yet, so different.

“Hmm, then I’m up for a holly jolly

“Yeah? stuff my stocking with your big North Pole, Joel?” he bursted in laughter, trying to be quiet but miserably failed, making you start giggling as well. “Joel, shut up!”

“Well, baby… You’re bein’ a flirt” rolling your eyes, you had to go straight to hug him.

“Get my backpack, please…” you nod at him, approaching the entrance of the house, where Joel’s backpack was discharged in the floor.

You bend over to grab it and the soft sound of a box of band-aids falling makes you sigh.

“Close the fucking backpack, Joel” you try to be quiet while he distantly says sorry. And then you spot a sparkly red ribbon tangled in a zipper. When you pull it out, you realize it’s not a ribbon.

It’s a thong. And lurking from the inside, there an egg nog powder mix.

You have so many questions. You could’ve laughed. But you didn’t. Instead, your head starts questioning why he had a thong on his backpack.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You ask when he arrives at your side. “You have a whole festive fucking pack in your backpack?”

“Darlin’, Are you bein’ serious now?” He asks tiredly, which makes you sigh. “What? Do you think this is not for you and belongs to somebody else?”

“I don’t know!” You spit out frustrated, crossing your arms and realizing you had snapped. “I’m sorry, Joel. I just don’t know how to feel about it…”

You knew it was stupid getting mad over something so silly and immature. It could’ve been a joke from a mate, perhaps Joel actually got it for you. But why slip it like that?

That night you leave your husband all alone in the darkness of the living room wondering what he did wrong.

He stares at the empty Christmas tree and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

…

The next morning, it was Christmas Eve.

Joel got up only to find out kids had school. It was a short day and basically an excuse to gather all the kids and avoid interruptions for any final details to work on. Joel did not have any problem with having Cerise the whole morning. In fact, it made him slightly forgetful about the argument with you last night.

Ellie was gone, Joel heard her cursing as she was leaving, saying how shitty she looked with her elf costume.

Cerise and Joel had a good morning together. He made breakfast for her, then he bather her to avoid getting her later with lower temperatures. Then he paid Tommy a little visit to ask for advice and finally felt confident to face you and ask questions.

He felt hurt by your reaction and was eager to understand why you took things in such way.

He pushed the stroller carrying a sleepy Cerise through the streets of Jackson. Everyone seemed ready for the holidays, happy families everywhere. It made Joel to feel a bigger urge to run towards the little school. There was no point in having a silly fight during a special night.

So when he arrived with Cerise at the school, children were walking out, everyone holding a handcrafted ornament, others had snowflakes, others tried to do paper ginger-man cookies. It made Joel to think how would Cerise be in a couple of years while attending school.

When he entered the old building, he saw that there only were four classrooms. Only one was open. And as Joel pushed the stroller through the hall, he was able to see that the open door was decorated with little stars that had the name of some students. In the center, a baby pink paper that said “Mrs. Miller” and it made Joel’s heart to melt.

Everyone knew that kids loved you. The youngest always said hi or even hugged you, asking if they could see Cerise.

When he entered the room, it was empty, only you sitting in your desk. When you looked up to see, you quickly had to stand up upon seeing your husband and baby.

“Is Cerise okay?” You ask worriedly. “She’s fine, y/n. I just needed to pass by”

You nod, already understanding what he meant. You stare at his red sweater, the color resulting foreign on him, yet, welcoming.

“It was silly and-“ you try to start saying but Joel shushes you. “I’m the one talking darlin’…”

“Earlier in the morning, Tommy and I went to the mall” you only can tap your index finger against your desk, starting to feel completely embarrassed. “We passed by the store and thought it would be silly and fun to grab a pair of festive underwear along the eggnog. I also grabbed a pacifier for Cerise….”

“Now what the fuck? I completely overreacted” you admit avoiding his gaze.

“Do you really think I could possibly cheat on you?” he asks, sounding very hurt, which made your twist in remorse. “Don’t you think we’ve suffered enough to just fuck up everything for nothing?”

Your eyes water and you have to look down, ashamed.

“God, I’m so sorry, Joel. I know it was stupid…” He sighs, crossing his arms, also looking away, to the window of the little classroom. “I normally feel so confident about us and our life here. But occasionally my mind goes back to the beginning and it terrifies me that someday you’ll get tired of everything and just be free. But alone…”

Joel eyed you as you were speaking, and it broke him. Sometimes he forgets you also went through traumatic experiences along the way. You love him unconditionally, yes. But that doesn’t mean sometimes those traumas will not try to arise. And it’s okay to have doubts, the world was broken.

But Joel would give his life to never see you broken as well.

He pulled you closer, holding you tightly. His chin finding a home at the top of your head. And it made you feel safe. Like you weren’t insane for causing nonsensical arguments.

“I’m sorry” you repeat and he shushes you softly. “Having doubts is valid. But I can promise you, my darlin’… that I would do everything again if I had know since the beginning that my reward was you. And I will never get tired of it…”

“Intrusive thoughts aside, everything is perfect. I will let you know whenever I’m feeling odd and hopefully we’ll talk” he nodded, making you feel even more safe. “Of course, baby”

“And I love you, Joel. Like you have no idea” you hear him chuckling, then kissing your hair. “Oh, I think I do. I think we both know we’re down bad for each other”

“Even Cerise knows it. She stares back and forth between us whenever we start talking and she’s fully awake” at the comment, Joel chuckled, looking aside where he left the stroller, noticing there was movement inside.

“I think she’s already doing it” you say smiling.

Joel uncovered the stroller and indeed, Cerise was fully awake, her chocolate eyes scanning the place before landing on her parents. And upon looking at you and Joel, she started cooing.

“Aww, my baby, come here” it would never be not amusing for Joel to finally seeing you as a mother. As you peppered Cerise’s face with wet kisses all over, she seemed to be laughing. The moment the three of you started sharing were foreign, a little over a year ago, everything was so different. Joel was unable to admit that he loved you, you were extremely insecure, Ellie was a stranger. You had zero hopes of a family.

The odds were in your favor. Very much.

“I think she’s growing your nose” Joel said, softly pinching one of the baby’s cheeks. Cerise was in heavy, sandwiched between the warmth of her parents, in a red onesie that had a reindeer in the center and stars in her tiny foots.

“Well I think she’s growing your hair. Messy and curly…” Joel smirked and then kissed you.

“Let’s go home. I want to try that eggnog mix even if it kills us”

“I don’t think syrups and fake powder will kill us, y/n” he took your hand and lead the way out of the school.

…

It was very cold when you got out of the shower. The smell of turkey and butter was filtering through the small gap of your open window. At the dinning hall people were slowly gathering to share a meal and celebrate the night prior to Christmas. And as per usual, you were slightly late.

You had a brown dress that you carried since Boston’s QZ. You had never worn it and you had a second pair of boots reserved for special occasions, which were waiting for you at the foot of the bed along your coat and some thick black thighs. It wasn’t elegant, just classic. An outfit that even in the apocalypse seemed decent or fair.

“Cerise is ready…” Joel says entering the room. His smile grew at the sigh of you, which made you blush and shyly look away.

“No, don’t look away, darlin’. You look like a little doll” he hurried to give you a little spin and kiss your cheeks.

“Calm down, Texas” he steadies his hands around your hips, smiling again “Now, gimme that nasty thong before I change my mind”

“What?” Joel completely forgot about the thing. But soon he went to the basket of clean clothes and handed it to you.

The asshole had washed the thong.

Under the lamp of the room, you were able to appreciate the details of the thong. It was bright red, with some lace details in the crotch, shiny beaded sequins and a fine embroidery.

You slipped into the fabric, hunching the dress around your stomach. Joel let out a little gasp after finally seeing you with the lingerie.

“Merry fucking Christmas” you had to laugh loudly after seeing him almost poking out his tongue, then, you are pulling down the dress and sitting on the bed to put on the thighs.

“That’s lewd, Joel”

“Shut up. I’m getting what I deserve after dinner”

“Your first present to unwrap” you say rolling your eyes.

It is then when you look at Ellie passing by the door and after hearing you burst out laughing, she huffed, standing on the doorway.

“Can you please stop?” The girls asks, but it’s very funny to see her with the elf costume and silly hat.

“Why I was forced to do this?”

“Because you are a pain in the ass for Tommy and Maria” she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, it’s getting late. Let’s go, everyone” Joel leads the way downstairs, where he picks up Cerise from her baby gym and wraps her in blankets before getting her into the stroller.

When he approaches you to help you put on your coat, you can’t stop smiling at the sight of him.

And he notices it, offering back another smile.

Ellie walks out with Cerise in the stroller and turns back to ask who was the keys, but rolls her eyes after seeing you two lost in each other’s eyes.

“HEY!” Both of you snap out of the moment and turn to look at Ellie. “Yeah, yeah, we all know both of you are so in love. But who has the keys?”

“Joel” you reveal, chuckling at the girl’s words and moving away.

Joel locks the door and walks out to the street. He follows closely bu he prefers to savor the moment of you and Ellie making Cerise to babble and coo from inside the stroller. With all the Christmas decoration and the snow falling, Joel wants nothing but a camera to capture the moment. But his old ass would always remember that type of moments.

__________

[daytaker]

Hello, it is I, Family Anon, the anon who requested headcaons about MC’s family reacting to the brothers showing up and I have yet another request for ye, May we get some headcaons for Papa MC showing the brothers MC’s childhood photos? Them as a cute chubby baby, scribbling all over walls, getting braces (I saw a headcaon that was about them freaking out at the concept of braces and I just thought it was hilarious ), playing sports, their date for prom, and finally highschool graduation pics, Mama MC still doesn’t like any of them and is glaring at her husband for letting his guard down while MC is just rotting into the couch in embarrassment lol.

[ Related: "Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends" | "Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son" ]

"Mom, Dad, please stop showing my seven boyfriends pictures of me in the bath."

...is what you would have said if Dad hadn't already moved on from that picture to one of you with your face covered in Spaghettio's. Your dad is sitting on the couch between the twins, the five older brothers all huddled behind them as he flips through a photo album. It's only been a few days since he met the brothers, and while he was openly hostile towards them at first, he's quickly come to appreciate the fantastic sounding board they are for his ramblings on his beloved child. They're engaged, curious, and they ask all the right questions.

"Maybe we were too judgmental about that cult," your dad said to your mom the other day as you rubbed your temples. You've given up saying that there was no cult. You hardly even believe yourself anymore.

Mom has been glaring at Dad since he took out the family album he'd brought with him, but it had done her about as much good as glaring at him had done me.

Now, for a trip down memory lane...

You as a Newborn Baby

You, freshly out of the womb, with a red face contorted into an ugly sob.

"What's that?" Beel asks as he squints at the photo of the squirming infant that barely resembled a human.

"That's a baby, Beel," mumbles Lucifer.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing is wrong with it. Babies are just ugly when they first come out," Belphie explains.

"MC wasn't ugly when they first came out," Beel argues with a frown.

"Beel," Levi sighs. "That is MC."

"....Oh."

You with your Baby Sister

You're almost two and you're leaning over your mother as she holds your newborn baby sister.

"What is happening here?" Satan asks, perplexed. "There are two infants."

"Sure are," Dad says proudly. "That's MC, and that there is their little sister. You met her, didn't you, Derek?"

Satan says nothing, but still somehow manages to sound moody.

"She's our wildchild. Or, she was. Turns out MC has a bit of a crazy streak too. Isn't that right, MC?"

You say nothing. You're a little moody yourself.

You Crying on a Pony

You're about two years old at some autumn festival, your face frozen forever in a pitiful shriek of terror while you sit on the back of a docile pony while your dad walks beside you.

"Did that animal make you cry?" asks Belphie.

"As you can see from the evidence in this photograph, yes."

Belphie mutters something under his breath about making it suffer.

"That's from over 20 years ago. It's probably dead by now."

"Good."

"Belphie!"

You Taking a Bath

You're about three years old, and you and your sister are in the bathtub, naked as the day you were born, playing with bath toys.

"Humans have rubber duckies?" asks Levi.

"Humans?" Your dad gives him a funny look.

"Haha! Oh, Levi. He meant *Americans*. Sure we do, Levi!"

"It's strange that they let you take photos of them in the bath. I don't think they'd let someone do that anymore," Asmo sighs sadly. "MC, where did your sense of playfulness go?"

Trying to explain to these people that small human children are fundamentally unlike human adults is like talking to an especially inflexible brick wall.

You Dressed for Winter

You're standing in a thick coat, scarf, hat, mittens, snow pants, and snow boots. Your arms are practically stuck in the air at your sides.

This seems excessive, comments Lucifer.

Winters can get pretty cold in this part of the country, your dad explains.

Nonetheless, this seems excessive.

This was entirely normal outerwear for a six-year-old child going outside in the snow in January.

Nevertheless, Lucifer says, it seems excessive.

You remind Lucifer about the booties and doggy jacket he dresses Cerberus in when it snows in the Devildom and he stops making such judgmental statements about your parents.

You with Braces

It's a school photo. You're about thirteen. years old, and you're sporting braces. It's a painful memory.

"What happened to your mouth? Asmo gasps in alarm. "Who did that to your teeth?!"

Those are braces, Dad tells him.

"Braces?"

They straighten out your teeth bit by bit over the course of a long stretch of time.

And who did this to Asmo's precious MC?

The orthodontist, your Dad tries to explain, but Asmo is so disgusted he can barely stand to look at the picture.

You and your Prom Date

You're about seventeen, standing beside a boy around the same age, smiling into the camera. You're both dressed in formalwear and you both look vaguely uncomfortable.

"Hey, why's that kid lookin' so cozy with MC?" Mammon narrows his eyes at the photo album.

"That's Sam Jorgenson. Hey MC, you remember Sam Jorgenson?" your dad asks you.

Yes, you remember Sam Jorgenson, your on-again off-again high school boyfriend. You were always breaking up because of some stupid thing or another, and you were always getting back together over even stupider stuff.

"Why's he holdin' onto you like that?" Mammon asks accusatorially.

"Why are you looking at me like that? That's probably from my senior prom." You aren't looking at the photo, but you can guess which picture it is. "He was my date."

Mammon looks kind of devastated. Like he had expected to be the first guy to ever be your date to anything.

"Listen, Mammon, you're my first lots-of-stuff, but I had a life before I came to...um. Virginia. I wasn't saving myself for some hypothetical... 'backpacker' during my teenage years."

Mammon seems to feel like he barely knows you anymore.

You tell him that's just too damn bad, but Sam Jorgenson had a PS4 and beautiful blue eyes so you're not really that sorry.

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 15 — Ice Skating

↳ Summary: A cheesy little date for you and your fiancé.

↳ Word Count: 714

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

With a timid push, you left the side of the ice rink behind, your arms stretched out for balance, legs tense. George’s hand found one of yours with a small chuckle, helping to keep you steady on your skates. 

“You know, when you said you were shit at skating, I thought you were exaggerating.” he stated lightly. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” you grumbled, voice weak as you were more so focused on not falling on your ass in the middle of a crowded ice rink. 

“I’m not laughing at you.” George assured you, finding his place beside you so you could skate in time, hand in hand. 

You moved painfully slowly under the twinkling Christmas lights that were hung over the outdoor rink, your rented skates already hurting your ankles before you even got very far. George was patient with you, just appreciating the moment to slow down, to spend time with you. Now that the season was over, he had his chance to properly give you all the attention he wanted — you; his fiancé. What a lovely word. 

When it started to lightly snow upon the outdoor ice rink, he looked up to the inky night sky with a calm smile, stating, "This is pretty romantic, right?" 

You hummed in reply with a flat and concentrated, "As long as no one falls on their face."

“I think that’d still be romantic. Then I can help bandage you up and kiss you better.” he shrugged cheekily. 

“Hey,” you frowned playfully over at him, “Who said I was the one who was going to fall?”

Right at that moment, your feet slipped from under you and you barely caught yourself, George’s impressive reflexes darting out to grab you around the waist to keep you from falling completely. Held in his arms as he made sure you were steady, you were face to face with him and his cocky little smirk that he tried to bite back.

“Not a word.” you warned, although there was no real heat behind your tone. 

Your gloved hand fit in his so nicely, like it was meant to be there. If it was any other circumstance, you might have found yourself staring at him in his dark blue trench coat and scarf beside you, the slight flush of cold sparking a pretty rouge across his cheeks and nose. But, instead, you were far too focused on not publicly embarrassing yourself and him by your lackluster ice skating skills as you slowly moved around the rink. 

Strangers whizzed past you at speeds that almost had you toppling over right into George. His warm chuckle and the tightening of his hand in yours grounded you and kept you on your feet as you successfully made a lap around the rink. You slowly started to get the hang of it, pushing against the ice in timid motions to propel you forward at cautious speeds. George was patient and kind and he stuck to your pace, just appreciating the time spent with you. 

However, one mis-glide on his skates had George tripping over his own feet and falling straight down the ice, his hand in yours accidentally yanking you with him. You flopped on top of him with a surprised gasp, the impact between his initial fall and then your entire body weight landing on top of him immediately after had him groaning. 

“Fucking…Christ…” George grumbled with a wince as he started to push himself up into a sitting position.

You struggled to get off him, your skates slipping and sliding on the ice ungracefully and making it incredibly difficult to get any sort of traction, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” he muttered, “Glad I broke your fall.”

“You pulled me down with you.” you protested with a giggle. 

“Yeah, yeah…” he let out a strained chuckle in reply, trying to stand up with limited success, looking like he was a newborn giraffe trying to familiarize himself with his legs. 

“Honestly, you’re right.” you commented as you watched him struggle for a moment longer, his dark trench coat dotted in white clumps of ice now, and you reached out to brush some off. Then, you finally offered a hand to help him balance, “This is still romantic”

He shot you an unimpressed yet unserious side-eye. 

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 79 (Winter is Here and Ash Has Another Sibling!)

Brindleton Bay's first snowfall of the year was picturesque, but the light dusting of white on the ground was merely a tease. The snow didn't stop once winter had begun and it wasn't long before the coastal town was coated in thick white powder.

Ash loved hanging out in the snow, and he and Conrad loved to make snowmen while Heather took care of his baby sister.

They wanted to get to the city to visit Heather's sister, Holly, who had recently welcomed her second daughter with her husband, Kris. In keeping with their commitment to fish names, Tetra's little sister was named Betta.

(Tetra Daisy and Betta Cecilia Bell, for those interested!)

But newborns in both households made it difficult to travel, so they settled for sharing updates by phone and made plans to spend time together in the city for the upcoming Winterfest holidays.

Genius Ash wasn't all that interested in the crying, stinky baby who now lived in his house, and with one sister at home in Brindleton Bay, Ash met his other new sister, Bridgette, on his first weekend at his dad's after she was born.

"What do you think of your new sister, there, Ash?" Geoffrey warmly embraced his grandson, while Malcolm was prouder than he thought he'd be to introduce his son to his new daughter.

"Lavender and Bridgette don't do much," Ash complained. "But they're pretty cute, I guess."

"What sort of name is Lavender, anyway?" Nancy scoffed and Geoffrey shushed her.

"Where's Bridgette gonna sleep when she's out of her bassinet? I sleep on the pullout bed when I'm here, but there isn't room for two pullout beds in the living room!"

"Your Gramma and I used to talk about adding a third bedroom, but we never really needed the extra space before now."

Nancy forced a grin in front of her grandson. "And we decided adding another room to the top floor would disrupt our morning view, Geoffrey."

"We've got enough views," he said. "I'd rather see our grandkids well-rested and happy."

"You are always complaining that you can't turn your music on when Ash is asleep in the living room," said Miko sweetly. "Ash, would you mind sharing a room with your sister when you visit?"

"If she cries a lot, I might, but I'm almost used to Lavender. I bet I can get used to Bridgette's crying, too!"

While the Landgraabs set to work finally building Ash a bedroom at the penthouse, he bonded with his second little sister. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The boujis medieval cc crib I downloaded for my UDC and haven't deleted appeared randomly but is honestly perfect for a Landgraab princess. And technically the lack of a bedroom for Ash is my fault. He was small and wasn't there that often so I could stick a toddler bed wherever, and it took me a while to figure out where to build the third bedroom in the Spire Tower suite without gutting the layout, which is my nightmare. But they needed that third bedroom and I figured it out. I'll debut it once Bridgette is an infant, because when I took photos of it that's how big she was.

ALSO at Heather and Conrad's he technically has his own room but he's sleeping in the guest room. I'm waiting for Lavender to grow up a little before renovating some spaces! I think they'll lose their guest room but I haven't decided yet. So we can give Nancy hell for this, sure, but it's redirecting wrath that should actually be on me. 😂

[wh0re43van]

Baby fever Pt 3 (Evan Peters X Reader)

Summary: Theres been tension between you and Evan for months due to your struggle to conceive. You guys decide to go out for a nice dinner to get your mind off of things.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: mentions of wine?, small argument?

A/N: I’m sorry guys I thought I uploaded this like two hours ago 😭 this will probably be the last part of this little series <3

Pt1 , Pt2

It’s been about three months since Evan and I have started trying for a baby. We know that it takes time, but that doesn’t take the sting out of the 10 negative tests we’ve gotten.

I sigh, resting my head on the window glass as I see the elementary kids at the bus stop awaiting their ride to school. A few are chasing each other, a pair of kids are sat down on the sidewalk as they share the same set of earbuds, and one kid stands quietly as they hold their backpack close to their chest. The warm hues of the morning sunrise cascades down on the group of tiny people. Orange and pink sun rays bounce of their coats, hats, and laughs that come out as puffs of condensation.

I smile to myself as I hold my herbal tea up to my lips, the steam coming from the beverage fogging up the cold window. I imagine what Evan would look like as he walks our child to the bus stop. What kind of silly dad pajama bottoms and stained hoodie set would he take our child out in. The image of Evan holding our little one’s hand makes my heart swell.

The click of the deadbolt unlocking grasps my attention. I turn to see Evan walking through the door with a few bags of groceries. He gives me a small smile as he sets the shopping down on the table.

“I still think it’s a bit early for grocery shopping,” I giggle as I pull him into a loose hug. He rests his head on top of mine, his hand instinctively twirling my hair.

“I know. I’ve been up since 5:00 am so I figured I might as well get up and do something,” he sighs. Evans been more beaten up about this than I imagined. I’ve tried to explain to him that it takes time, and you have to wait at least 3 weeks before you can get a positive result, but he doesn’t care much to listen. He’s just so ready to be a dad; to have that little bundle of joy in his arms. He already has so much love for a child that hasn’t yet been conceived.

“Would you like some coffee?” I ask as I look up at him with a small smile.

“That would be very nice,” he grins, leaning down to place a small kiss to my lips. I turn, reaching for the coffee grounds as he unloads the groceries.

“What did you get?” I ask curiously.

“Oh just some staple foods we were running low on: peanut butter, bread, butter…” he explains as he put each item away in their rightful home. “Oh and I found these pregnancy tests that let you know a week early!” He beams as he shuffles over to me, pulling six ‘Clear Blue’ pregnancy tests out of the canvas shopping bag.

“Evan,” I giggle, looking at him in confusion. “Why did you get so many?” I ask as I pour the fresh brewed coffee into his favorite mug.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. Just want to be prepared I guess,” he shrugs before turning back to the shopping bags. “Oh y/n look at this,” he says excitedly. I turn, handing him his coffee when I see the little bear onesie in his hand. “Isn’t this just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” He asks genuinely, the biggest, goofiest smile on his face and pure joy glinting in his eyes. This man melts my heart.

“It’s adorable,” I giggle, walking over to examine the outfit. It’s a brown, fleece, hooded onesie with bear ears and bear feet attached. I notice that its size newborn, but I don’t have the heart to tell him that even if I were pregnant right now, the baby would get here in August and we would have no use for this winter outfit. I just smile to myself and kiss him on the cheek before walking back over to the coffee pot to prepare my own drink.

“Woah! Is that caffeine free?” Evan asks urgently as he sets his mug down, spilling a bit before he rushes to me.

“Uh, no?” I look at him confused. He takes the coffee out of my hand.

“I read online that you shouldn’t consume caffeine while pregnant,” Evan explains. I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Okay… well I’m not pregnant yet,” I try to laugh it off and grab the pot out of his hand. He yanks it back, holding it up and out of my reach. “Y/n I’m serious. It’s not good for you or the baby,” he furrows his brows. I can feel my blood pressure start to rise out of anger.

“There is no fucking baby, Evan! I took another test a few days ago, and guess what? It came out negative just like all of the other ones! So please give it a rest!” I shout, surprising myself at how aggressive that came out; I guess I was holding that back for a while. Evan takes a step back, betrayal creeping into his face.

“There is no need to shout,” he says lowly, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t break eyes contact with me as he sets the coffee pot down. I know I’ve angered him. He has this calm demeanor when he’s pissed off; He never raises his voice or puts his hands on anyone, but when he’s mad the look in his eyes will strike the fear of god into you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I furrow my brow back at him. I’m not sure where this sudden anger came from, but now I can’t stop it. Now that I think about it, there’s been a bit of tension between us after the first few negative tests. It’s almost like he gets upset with me every time we find out that I’m not pregnant. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it that way and that he doesn’t blame me for our struggle to conceive, but I can’t help the thought from creeping in.

“You’re the one that snapped on me out of no where,” he says sternly, clenching his jaw. “Come on, what’s your problem? You’ve been cold towards me for months,” he asks seriously. I scoff, feeling my ears burn red.

“Me? Evan you’re the one that won’t talk to me for the rest of the fucking day every time that goddamn stick only has one fucking line!” I scream, not believing what I’m hearing come out of his mouth. He steps closer to me, intimidating me with his proximity. There’s no need for him to shout; He knows his glare speaks much louder.

“I’m going to our room. Come talk to me once you’ve calmed down,” he says through tight lips before silently walking away. I let out a frustrated sigh, pushing a box of frozen waffles off the counter as I flop down on.

‘I’m a fucking idiot’ I kick myself. We needed to talk about these feelings, but it’s just been so tense between us. The past few weeks I’ve been so emotional and there’s just been a tension hanging between Evan and me.

I sigh, standing up straight then finish putting the groceries aways. I decide to make Evan pancakes from scratch as a poor apology.

About an hour has passed and I’m taking the last pancake off the stove as footsteps sound down the hallway.

“You never came to talk,” I hear Evans’ sad voice as he comes around the corner.

“Well, I thought I would make you breakfast first,” I give him a small smile. Guilt rushes over me when I look into his eyes that are glistening with sadness. ‘How could I have yelled at him like that,’ I think to myself as he looks at me like a disappointed puppy. “Evan I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’ve just been so on edge lately. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that… I know you’re just excited for the baby, but I feel like I’m disappointing you,” I sigh I pull two plates out of the cabinet. Evans hands quickly wrap around my waist, pulling me into a hug.

“You could never disappoint me, y/n,” he says sweetly, placing a kiss on top of my head. “I just got a bit carried away, I’m sorry. All I’ve been thinking about is starting a family; I don’t mean to put any pressure on you.” he says genuinely as he rubs his hands on my back.

“I love you, Evan,” his words make tear up but I keep my head pressed against his chest so he can’t see. He always manages to melt my heart with his kind words.

“I love you baby,” he pulls away to look at me. “Why don’t we go to that Italian place you like for dinner? We can have a nice night out to destress,” he offers with his award-winning smile. I sniffle, nodding my head.

“I’d love that,” I say with a grin. He grabs my hand, placing a kiss on top before helping himself to the pancakes on the table.

•

•

The rest of the day went pretty smooth. We didn’t speak of the baby at all, just spent some time together; it was lovely.

I get ready for our date, picking out a simple black dress. I slip it on and examine myself in the mirror. A frown creeps onto my face when I see my reflection, suddenly feeling insecure. As if on cue, Evan walks into the room sporting nothing but a pair of black slacks.

“You know, that’s one of my favorite dresses on you,” he says sweetly. I watch him through the mirror as he lays down on our bed, propping his head up on his hand to admire me.

“I was about to change. I feel like you can see how bloated I am in it,” I scoff, turning to look at him. He sits up from the bed, drawing his brows down.

“Y/n you look stunning. What the hell are you talking about?” he asks in disbelief. I trudge over to him, plopping down and resting my forehead on his bare shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I sigh honestly. “I just feel like I’ve been swollen and bloated for the past few weeks and it’s not even time for my period,” I groan into his arm. He chuckles, placing a warm hand on back.

“You need to be nicer to yourself. You look just as beautiful-if not more- than the first time I ever saw you,” he says softly before placing a kiss to the top of my head. I sit up, looking at him with awe.

“How do you still make me blush, even after all these years?” I giggle as my cheeks burn pink.

“I just have that effect on women,” he laughs as he stretches his arms above his head, purposefully flexing his biceps. I roll my eyes.

“Whatever,” I laugh as I stand from the bed. “Get dressed, Casanova,” I tease as I walk to the bathroom. He stands up without saying anything then gently slaps my ass. I can’t help but laugh to myself as he runs out of the room like a child who’s just stolen a piece of candy.

•

•

The car ride was full of jokes and positive energy. Now we sit in this lovely restaurant with a live orchestra and decorative fountains. It’s a bit flashy for my taste, but the food and service are so good that I can’t complain. Evan sits across from me in his signature formal wear: a white button-up and black slacks. He took the time to slick his brown curls down and away from his face and trim his beard and mustache a bit to better fit in with the black-tie atmosphere.

The waitress soon approaches our table with a bottle of wine (which looks much more expansive than any bottle that I pick up at Target) then sets the glasses on the table and opens the wine. Evan speaks up, asking her to leave the bottle as he wants to pour it himself. She smiles before walking away.

“I got this especially for you,” Evan laughs as he picks up the glass bottle. “So if you don’t like it, you owe me $500,” he teases as me pours me my drink. I almost choke on my breath.

“Evan are you crazy?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head. He chuckles at my expression as he pours his own serving.

“Crazy for you,” he winks, knowing that was insanely cheesy. “Plus, I’ve been kind of persuading you not to drink and eat certain things incase we conceive without realizing it, so this is my apology for trying to control your body,” he grins sympathetically, holding his glass of wine out. With a smile, I grab my glass and meet his with a clink. He takes a drink, but when I hold the earthy liquid up to my mouth, I pause. I consider his words about possibly being pregnant. I took a pregnancy test just a few days ago and it was negative like always. I shrug it off taking a sip of the bitter drink.

The night goes on, lovely as ever. It almost feels like an anniversary date with our reminiscing and sharing of old pictures, the high class atmosphere, the expensive wine. The night was perfect, honestly. Evan seemed to have been stressed because he drank nearly the whole bottle of wine on his own in less than an hour.

“God, you’re just so- and you’re such a… and kind! You’re so kind Y/n!” he stammers out with boyish giggles as he pauses every few words to manually sort through each of his thoughts. I laugh at the wine drunk man slouched in his seat

“Thank you, Ev,” I place a hand on his face from across the table.  He leans into the touch as he closes his eyes, his lips curling into a small content smile.

“Hey how come you didn’t drink yours?” he queries as he picks up my mostly full glass of wine, sloshing some of the dark liquid out of the vessel onto to the stark white tablecloth.

“Evan!” I whisper, snatching the glass from him. “Well, someone has to drive you home,” I giggle, shaking my head at the 36-year old child in the seat across from me. I give him the excuse of being the designated driver, but it was actually almost instinctual as to why I haven’t had much to drink. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time to go home,” I raise my eyebrows at Evan who’s got the wine bottle up to his eye, searching for more of the rich liquid. I snatch the bottle out of his hands. He stands from his seat trying to grab it back, but stumbles backwards into his chair. “Jesus Christ, Evan! You aren’t supposed to get trashed in a place like this,” I scold him as I motion around at the elegance of the building. He just shrugs his shoulders.

“Hey! I paid to be here just like everyone else,” he rolls his eyes and flicks his wrist, snapping his fingers.

“I hate when you get wine drunk,” I sigh, shaking my head at the pure sass radiating off my husband. He just smiles at me with droopy eyes. I laugh, then call for the check.

•

•

After arriving home, I force my drunk husband out of his dress clothes so he can put his pajamas on. Evan is standing in the middle of our room in just his boxers as I sort through our dresser for his sweat pants and an old t-shirt. I carry the clothes over to him, then he suddenly grabs my hips pulling me into a kiss, swaying a bit on his feet.

“What if we try again tonight?” he asks lowly in my ear, catching me off guard, his energy now much different from his giggling self.

“I think maybe we should just get ready for bed,” I whisper back as he places small kisses down my neck, his strong hands pulling my body closer to his.

“That’s no fun,” he looks at me, frowning.

“Come on Ev. You’re drunk and I’m still sore from the other night. Let’s just get you in bed,” I smile, leading him to the mattress. He begrudgingly allows me to dress him before he lays down on our bed. Once he’s settled, I head to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

As I reach over the counter into the cabinet to grab a cup, I see the bag of the fancy pregnancy tests that Evan bought. I get my water and take a few sips while staring at the bag, contemplating whether I should use one. I shrug, taking one up to the bathroom with me so I can get ready for the night.

I set the box on the bathroom counter before taking off my makeup. As I walk to the toilet to use the bathroom, my eyes glance back over to the blue and white box.

‘You’re supposed to do it in the morning, it wouldn’t be accurate right now anyway,’  I think to myself as I pull up my dress, sitting down on the toilet, but in the same breath I think, ‘Evan bought like half a dozen, wasting one won’t hurt,’ I convince myself to hop up, reaching for the blue and white box, reading the directions quickly. I do as directed and allow the test to sit for two minutes. I turn away, brushing my teeth anxiously for the longest two minutes of my entire life. ‘I don’t know why I’m so worked up this time. I know it’s going to be negative,’ I think to myself as I put my tooth brush back in its holder. My heart drops to my stomach when I see the result of the test. I turn the other set of lights on in the bathroom so I can see it clearly. I blink my eyes as I hold the plastic closer to my face. I don’t believe my eyes.

‘pregnant’ is staring back at me in the small digital window of the pregnancy test. I smile, holding it to my pounding chest.

‘This could be a false positive. I’ll have to take another one in the morning,’ I rationalize in my head. ‘Should I tell Evan? If it’s a false, he’ll be crushed,’ I frown. As if Evan knows every time I’m thinking about him, he stumbles into the bathroom.

“Holy shit baby why do you have the LED’s on,” he hisses as he covers his eyes, trudging to the toilet in a drunken stupor. I stand still, just staring at the test in my hands, unsure of what to do. Evan yawns as relieves himself in the small room that the toilet is in.

“This could be false,” I start as I look at his backside. “But this test is positive,” I say quietly, unsure if he can hear me over the gallons he’s pissing. “Jesus, Evan,” I raise my eyebrows at how much he’s going.

“What?” he asks after a pause while turning his ear towards me, seemingly unsure if he heard me correctly. I wait for him to finish. Once he adjusts his pants and turns around, I take a deep breath before handing him the test.

“Now this could be false but-“ I begin as he tries to focus his tired, drunken gaze on the small letters on the test.

“Pregnant,” he reads aloud slowly. He looks up at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw before pulling me into a tight hug.

“Now like I said Ev, it could a false positive,” I remind him as I giggle against his chest.

“No way,” he looks at me with tears of joy streaming down his face. As soon as I see his tears, my own roll down my cheeks. He places a gentle hand on my stomach, using the other to wipe his eyes.

“How long until we can feel it kick?” he asks genuinely with pure joy glinting in his eyes. I giggle at his eagerness.

“It’s gotta grow legs first,” I snicker as he rests his forehead against mine. He laughs when he realizes how silly of a question that was before placing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Lets get you to bed, Mama,” he picks me up, seemingly much more sober now, to carry me to our bed.

[devilfic]

thinking about your first christmas as a family after bruce adopts dick grayson.

bruce is nervous because every christmas since becoming batman has been piss poor. there’s been no big dinners because it’s just been himself and alfred for so long. gifts were exchanged not on christmas morning but left on beds and desks and in elevator shafts because the holidays were such a strange time for the two of them without thomas and martha around. sometimes it was easier to give each other the space. alfred always left the fireplace on for when bruce would get home from holiday patrol, perhaps with a cup of hot cocoa just the way he liked it left on the hearth, always suspiciously steaming as if alfred had stayed up until bruce got back to leave it there.

then you come along and there’s dinner again, and sometimes bruce is even home some of the day to celebrate with you. the tree comes out of storage and you add a novelty ornament to it every year because the others are all for show and it just doesn’t make the tower feel like home. bruce bakes with you, stealing fudge from your mixing bowl. you almost (almost!) get to send him off with tinsel around his cowl ears and jingle bells on his belt. warmth is returning to gotham in december with you around.

but then dick comes along and everything is different! bruce doesn’t really realize it until he takes dick out shopping for a winter coat and an employee gives dick a candy cane on the way out, but it’s going to be christmas soon and he hasn’t planned anything. he’s been fine with the way things are for so long that he hadn’t realized that dick is still young, that christmas is still something to look forward to, that he’s a father now.

you walk in one day and bruce is stringing lights around the fireplace with dick running around the tree, wrapping it in ribbon and tinsel. bruce hoists dick up to put the star on the tree and they both nearly knock the whole thing over. dick hangs christmas wreaths in the batcave, super glues a bright red rudolph nose on the hood of the batmobile, builds gingerbread houses with little gingerbread bruce and you holding hands while gingerbread dick beats a gingerbread bad guy with a peppermint carved into a batarang. it sits very proudly in the kitchen. you’ve never seen bruce so flustered before. alfred has never seen the tower so badly decorated. he loves it.

on patrol, you lament about how cold dick must be in his robin costume and force him into leg warmers and a sweater, even as he whines about how it’s never bothered him before. bruce watches as you tug a hat over dick’s hair, tucking the little black strands underneath and placing your warm hands to dick’s flushed cheeks. you warn them both that if they don’t stay warm, you’ll be restricting their vigilante privileges. the boys just share a look because they know you really mean it.

you worry so much when they’re out together. try as you might to pretend to be asleep once bruce settles in beside you, you always sneak out of bed to check on dick before returning to your room. bruce pretends he’s too exhausted to notice and just pulls you closer.

dick gets you two out of the tower, too! bruce takes you both ice skating in gotham square, stumbling around on his skates like a 6′1, beefy newborn dear as you and dick skate circles around him and laugh (you really don’t mean to embarrass him so bad that he skates over to a bench and pouts for ten minutes, but you and dick convince him to skate between the two of you until he can stand on his own).

the snow in gotham is dirty, but that doesn’t stop dick from initiating snowball fights with you when you go out past the city lines. bruce takes the two of you to an old family friend’s estate and catches you two from the window pelting each other with handfuls of snow like your lives depended on it, and you bet your asses he’s coming for blood when he meets you both out there. none of you are dressed for getting covered in snow and alfred gives a very stern talking to you three by the front door when you get home.

and when christmas morning comes, bruce feels his heart clench as dick throws himself on top of you and bruce’s sleeping bodies in bed, begging you both to get up so he can open presents already. alfred stands by the bedroom door with this fond look on his face, mumbling something about how “familiar” this all was.

dick loves every single gift you guys give him. he runs off to his room to play with his new toys and video games the minute you let him. by the end of dinner, dick is passed out on the couch with a full stomach, so bruce laughs and takes a few pictures to tease him before scooping him up to take him to bed. it isn’t until dick is tucked under his sheets that it really hits him: he loves this kid. he’s got a family now. he’s going to do everything in his power to protect it. he gets misty-eyed at the thought that it’s his turn now, something that seemed so far out of his mind ten years ago.

he’s still kneeling by dick’s bedside when you come in and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair, “dick left us a gift. wanna come see?”

it’s a little foreign to him when bruce first sees it. he’d seen it maybe a few times at christmas parties at boarding school, almost always managing to evade getting dragged underneath it save for the few times he’d been given a sloppy, eggnog-spiked kiss by a classmate.

you stand under the mistletoe hanging from the lowest arch in the house (probably the only one dick could reasonably reach), giggling conspiratorially.

“was this your idea?” he accuses, slinking closer to the plant but not quite giving in just yet.

“dick wanted me to tell him about some christmas traditions and picked this one out. he’s never had a traditional christmas before, ya know?”

“and did he already get his kiss?”

“a big, embarrassing one right on the forehead from me AND alfred. he’s had his fill of this tradition, I think.”

bruce can’t help but laugh. he’s so full of warm food and joy. he’s happy dick’s happy. he’s happy you’re happy. he’s so happy. “can’t say the same for myself.” he cups his hands on either side of your throat and grins, breath scented from the candy cane he’d been sucking on after dinner. he kisses you and the mint passes to your tongue, a cool contrast to the feverishness of his mouth. he hadn’t felt this warm in years.

[madameaug]

Piercings

Pairing: Jungkook x Jennette (ft. Peanut)

Synopsis: Story of Peanut getting her ears pierced.

Jungkook was more than familiar with the procedure for piercings. He was becoming the poster child for body modifications. At this rate, he would run out of area to get tattooed or pierced.

His influence even spread to Jennette. A couple months ago she got an industrial and flat piercing. Jungkook was this close to convincing her to get a matching lip piercing. But she turned him down talking about "professionalism."

Had Jungkook been going to his piercer alone, he wouldn't be contemplating turning back to speed off in his car. The little person in the car seat he was carrying was staunchly different from his typical appointment. His peanut cup was getting her ears pierced. At the request of her mother and aunt (mostly her aunt though).

Jungkook, drawing the short end of the stick, had to take Peanut to get her ears pierced. As he chickened out on taking Peanut to her vaccination appointment.

He couldn't help it. Watching his peanut cup in pain gave him heart palpitations, which led him to wonder how he was going to make it through this appointment all by himself.

Jungkook's leg bounced as he sat on the stool in the back of the piercing/tattoo shop. His piercer, Gus, sterilized the needle. Oblivious to Jungkook's panic. Peanut was waking up from her nap. Bubbles were around her mouth as she did the adorable newborn scrunch.

Jungkook smothered her cheek in kisses. Embracing the natural warmth she possessed in the winter temperature.

"Ready, boss?"

No.

Jungkook nodded his head. He was already chewing on the inside of his cheek. Placing Peanut on his lap, Jungkook secured her head in his hands. Peanut was calm as ever, looking around at the new environment. Her fist became tasty as she lodged it in her mouth.

"It'll be quick. In and out. You don't have to fret baby." Jungkook spoke out loud. Unsure if his prep talk was for Peanut or for himself. Taking his cue to get this process done, Gus walked to Peanut's left side. The infant watching the man get closer. Not visibly uncomfortably, but definitely keeping track of his every movement.

"Give me a countdown," Jungkook asked, his voice sounding small. His eyes already closed tight.

"One, two." Before getting to three Gus injected the needle through Peanut's lobe. Prepared with the small stud jewelry to add to her ear.

With one eye open, Jungkook braced himself for the horrific cry. Tears of his own brewing at the waterline. Peaking down to look at Peanut, her expression was emotionless. Fist still in her mouth, saliva strands dripping down her winter coat.

"Like a soldier." Gus complimented, going to the other side. "This should be a piece of cake then."

Giving Jungkook the same countdown, Gus finished the piercing on the right ear. Unlike the other ear, Peanut started to whine. Fist came out of her mouth to touch the recently pierced ear. She whimpered, turning her body away from Gus.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jungkook whispered to Peanut. Bouncing her in his arms. Finally, standing up. Still not happy, Peanut gently rubbed her ear.

"Thank you for squeezing us in." Jungkook paid with his Apple Watch, refusing to place his sniffling baby.

"Any time man."

Jungkook sat in the driver's seat. His phone dialed Jennette's.

"Oh my baby, well, my big baby." Jennette was graced to see Jungkook's red eyes while holding Peanut.

"I take it things went well." She had a teasing smirk on her face.

"I'm never doing this again." Jungkook wiped the stray tears falling down his face.

"Can I see my actual child? I can check up on you later."

Peanut faced her mother. Eyes just like her father.

"I'm so sorry, mama." Jennette blew kisses to her baby, who rested her head on her father's shoulder. Her sniffles eased as the pain went away in her ear.

"Jungkook, bring my baby home."

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 1: The Abandonment

Every chapter will be uploaded to the Masterlist linked in my pinned post on my account 💖

*50 days until Competition*

The ice had always been home.

From the moment she laced up her first pair of skates and wobbled like a newborn fawn on slick ice, Elain Archeron knew she found her future passion.

It all started when she was nine years old, residing in a place called the Village with Mama, Papa, and her two sisters. It was the last month of the year, and school had ceased for winter break just as the fluffy white snow began to coat the ground. Everyday on their trek home from classes, Elain and her sisters Nesta and Feyre passed by a secluded lake, sparkling blue in the spring and beautifully frozen in the winter. This time, however, the lake was occupied.

The girl had been no more than twelve years old, twirling with the grace and poise of a veteran skater. Each intricate twist and turn captivated Elain’s attention so much that she had tugged her sisters’ hands to stay and watch, gasping in delight when the girl launched herself through the air and landed precisely back on the ice. Little Elain had never beheld something so magnificent.

She’d run right home in the snow to beg Mama and Papa for her first pair of ice skates. What little money they’d had was already being put toward art classes for Feyre and dance classes for Nesta. While she'd been disappointed at first, Elain was always resourceful. Her free time was spent helping the elderly in her Village prepare their gardens for the harsh winter. After a few weeks of laying mulch down, wrapping larger plants with plastic covers, and moving small plants inside the homes, Elain had saved up enough money to finally buy herself a pair of pink ice skates, her most prized possession.

And she practiced. She practiced Axel jumps and Biellmann spins until her leggings were ripped, her muscles were sore, and her feet throbbed in anger. She studied videos, and even joined the girl on the lake, who she finally discovered was named Yoona. It was fitting, since Yoona’s skating was just as elegant and graceful as her name.

Sometimes Elain skated alone, when she needed a moment to clear her head. Other times, she showed off her skills to Nesta and Feyre, who smiled from the sidelines and urged her to “Be careful!” when she tried to land a new jump.

Even if she was not the best skater to grace the ice, she fell in love with it anyway. Everything about figure skating was exhilarating. The artistry, athleticism, the emotion, was incomparable to any menial task she’d ever done. The rush of adrenaline–the feeling of free falling and flying–was simply unparalleled. And maybe Elain believed she had a talent for it, (and was content not to pursue it further) but according to Mama, it wasn’t enough to shine on her own.

Figure skating had at one time been a hobby for Elain, a way to destress and escape the pressures of reality. She’d wanted to keep it that way, but Mama had other plans. Across the Village was a small piece of land called Prythian, where seven territories respectively named after the seasons and solar phases, competed at an annual event to showcase the best skaters in each region. The top scoring team was rewarded with accolades and a monetary achievement.

Mama caught wind of this shortly after Papa’s death. Whether the plan made sense or not didn’t matter to Mama. The prospect of potential fortune was so enticing that she hadn’t wasted a moment selling most of Papa’s trinkets and other belongings, and relocated the family to Velaris, a charming city in the heart of the Night Region.

Velaris had everything. Kind residents, delicate shops, mouth watering food, and to Elain’s sheer delight, it was in very close proximity to the Snowspell Ice Rink in Winter Region, the largest ice rink she’d ever seen and the only one in the entirety of Prythian, as far as anyone knew. Even along the main strip of Velaris was a newly renovated dance studio and an up and coming art classroom, both of which piqued the interest of Elain’s two sisters.

But it was Elain’s hobby that Mama controlled. Feyre was already being requested to paint wall murals in mansions for some of the richest families in Prythian at just sixteen years old, and nineteen year old Nesta had snagged the lead choreographer position in the dance studio. Children from all Regions traveled just to take one of her classes.

In short, the two sisters were making a name for themselves, willingly, standing out amongst others on the societal ladder. Elain wasn’t. And Mama did not take lightly the fact that Elain had preferred a quieter, simpler life, one filled with multiple hobbies and a surplus of happiness, over one that brought the Archeron family wealth and recognition.

Within the first few months of moving Mama had made friends with a man and woman from the Autumn Region, Beron and Lucia Vanserra, during one of the days Mama accompanied Elain to the rink in Winter. Beron was a commanding presence, with an air of arrogance and flaming temper. On the other hand, Lucia was a quiet woman, timid yet sweet in nature. Their youngest son, Lucien, was also a talented skater, perhaps the best throughout the Autumn Region.

Mama and Beron had a vision, one that only Elain and Lucien could accomplish together: wealth, status, fortune, fame. (Even though the Vanserra family needed none of those things. Beron was simply blinded by greed.) And so they were thrust together as partners at the age of seventeen, forced to skate together to bring honor to their families, all the while losing what drew them to the craft in the first place.

They competed against some of the best skaters in the nation, on a mission to claim the top spot on the podium, yet always falling short to pairs like Viviane and Kallias of Winter, Cresseida and Varian of Summer, or Morrigan and Azriel of Night. The couple from Winter excelled in chemistry and emotion, always bringing the judges close to tears with their routine. The siblings of Summer were coordinated and aesthetically pleasing to the eye, flowing in sync like parallel streams. And the best friends of Night excelled in athleticism and pure skill.

Each competition loss was met with insults disguised as corrections, harder routines, and longer days of training. She could not exist without living and breathing the ice, yet not in a way that fulfilled her. Elain had considered quitting at one point in time, but even after Mama’s death when Elain had turned twenty-two four years ago, she couldn’t bring herself to hang up the skates. Everything that Mama stood for had been ingrained in her brain. Wealth. Status. Recognition. Honor.

She had not succeeded when Mama was alive.

She wouldn’t fail her in death, too.

Twenty minutes past their allotted practice time, Lucien casually strolled into the Snowspell Ice Rink with the nonchalance of a man who did not appear phased that the competition was only a month away. Elain quirked a brow at his unusual tardiness and lack of skates, readjusting the fuzzy pink leg warmers around her calves, matching perfectly with her sweater.

“We only have the ice for an hour,” she reminded him as casually as she could, though her forehead crease was evident. “The Ice Warriors have practice at five.”

Being the only rink in Prythian came with one major con. While it was beautifully constructed and in pristine condition, ice time was divided equally between figure skaters, hockey players, and those who simply wanted to enjoy a free skate. Arriving on time was imperative to ensure everyone had equal usage of the ice.

Whether Lucien sensed her annoyance, he didn’t let on. Instead he stared at her, face uncharacteristically passive before saying, “I’m pulling out of the competition.”

Elain blinked. The ice beneath her feet thawed, and she felt like she was falling. Were her cheeks red from the cool air or from the absolute panic that shocked her body? “You–what?”

Lucien huffed, digging the toe of his boot into the ice. “I’m dropping out of the competition,” He reiterated, a twinge of indignation to his voice. Lucien did not possess the same temperament as his father, but every now and again his straight red hair would glow a bit brighter when he was on the cusp of irritation.

“I don’t understand,” Elain answered with a shake of her head, arms splayed outward in protest. “The competition is a few months away. Not a year, not six months. We’re supposed to perform Ode to Joy and–.”

“We don’t have a shot, Elain,” Lucien hissed, jaw clenching. “We’ve been partners for almost ten years with nothing to show for it. I don’t know if it’s me or you or–or us–but something isn’t working. Each year we seem to perform worse than the last.”

The ringing in her ears grew louder with every word that fell past his mouth. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. The competition–her duty–Mama–.

“We have to do this,” Elain said quietly. Her heart hammered frantically in her chest. “I have to do this. Your father–my Mama–Lucien I can’t quit. We must figure something out. We’ll practice more, or have your father pay for higher quality lessons, just–something other than pulling out of the competition.”

“I don’t think it’s a skill issue,” Lucien replied with a half hearted shrug. “Not for me, at least. I've been Autumn’s best skater since I was a child. I was skating before other kids even learned how to walk.”

Elain scoffed, if only to hide the prick of tears at her eyes. He may not have had Beron’s temper, but maybe he inherited a bit of his arrogance and condescending tone. “So, it is a skill concern. My skill, or lack thereof, it seems.”

“Listen. You’re good, Elain. I know for the first part of your life, you were self taught and that’s not your fault. But we’ve been training for years with some of the best figure skating coaches money can buy and you haven’t improved enough to even boost us from fifth place to fourth. You are good. But being good doesn’t win competitions.”

Every word, whether insulting or true, pierced through her heart. Shame washed over her bones. Lucien’s words were eerily similar to the ones Mama said a long time ago.

Lucien bit his lip, contemplating, “And it’s not just that. We’re not–compatible. I don’t know if we ever have been. Be honest, would you have chosen me as your partner, had our parents not been consumed in their own scheme to force us together?” He challenged, arms folded across his chest. “Willingly, with no outside pressure or familial obligations, would you have chosen me?”

Elain’s silence was answer enough. Because no, she wouldn’t have. Competitive skating had never been on her radar. Being Lucien’s partner, as awful as it sounded, was never something she considered. But she hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Feyre was a child prodigy. Nesta waltzed as easy as breathing. Both had Mama’s love, affection, and approval. Without ice skating, Elain had nothing.

Lucien sighed, tan fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled the tension from his body. “I wouldn’t have chosen you either. No hard feelings, I promise.” He stepped forward then, thrusting a chilly hand into his pocket. “My timing is terrible, I know. I’m sorry. I just think this is the best choice for me, Elain. And for you, too. You won’t have to worry about disappointing your mother–again–and I won’t have to work harder for the both of us.”

She reeled, almost as if she’d been slapped. Her lack of skill had been holding him back. The time, energy, training, tears, and aching muscles had been for nothing. She had failed to live up to expectations, again, disappointing her now ex-skating partner and deceased Mama in the process. Her lip trembled.

“Take care, Elain. I’ll be seeing you.” Lucien reached out, hesitantly squeezing her shoulder before stalking off the ice. She watched him leave in stunned silence, the only movement on her body being furrowed brows as she caught glimpse of a second figure in the distance, too blurry to fully grasp who had accompanied Lucien for what was probably moral support.

She didn’t have time to process that forty minutes had come and gone before a heavy thud hit the ice. Elain hastily brushed the tears from her cheeks just in time to see Cassian, defenseman for the Velaris Ice Warriors, greet her with a smile that was still somehow intact with the exception of one or two missing teeth. After all, he was notorious for goading other players into spats on the ice.

“Hey, Elain! So listen, what do you think is the best way to ask Nesta to go out with me–.” Cassian froze, eyes bulging out of his head. “Wait. What? Why are you crying? What the fuck happened?”

It was then she felt the presence of two more hulking hockey players behind her. Exhaling a shaky breath, she skated back a step to glance at the three teammates.

Cassian, number 26, top defenseman in the league in points and penalty minutes. Wherever Cassian skated, chaos and blood were sure to follow. While leading the league in points as a defenseman was certainly an achievement, he preferred throwing punches on the ice, specifically in Eris Vanserra’s face whenever Nesta’s name left the redhead’s mouth.

Rhysand, number 35, captain of the Ice Warriors and the best center to play the game. His ability to create plays for his teammates was unmatched, racking up the most assist points out of every player on his team. His impressive hockey IQ and innate ability to be a leader earned him the title of captain. When he wasn’t leading his team to victory, Rhys was spending time with his dog, son, and wife, Elain’s younger sister Feyre.

Elain swallowed, eyes shifting to the third teammate.

Azriel, number 54, right winger with impeccable speed and a lethal wrist shot. His ability to glide around the ice undetected has fooled his opponents time and time again, unable to defend against him as he buried the puck in the back of the net. He was calculated and strategic, using his sculpted body to block shots and only brawling when necessary.

Azriel, the former skating partner of Morrigan, representative of the Night Region in seven competitions, placing gold in five. Her teenage rival, whether he was aware of it or not. Who was now staring at her with a hardened expression.

“Elain?” Rhys asked, gloved hand squeezing her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Elain mumbled tearfully, fingers gripping the end of her sweater. She prayed the tears wouldn’t slip past her lashes. “Just that I have to live with the realization that I’m a complete and utter disappointment.”

She skated off the ice before any of the men could get another word in. Had she looked over her shoulder, Elain would have noticed how Azriel’s jaw set, and how his eyes tracked her every movement as she glided across the rink.

The thought had hit her the moment she saw him, and she’d done everything she could to keep it out. She didn’t want to, she really didn’t want to, but it was one hell of a good idea and she couldn’t convince herself otherwise.

She stood in front of a black door in a pair of warm fleece leggings and a crew neck that was two sizes too big, albeit comfy.

Pushing against her brain screaming to Run away now, Elain, she tapped four times on the door, holding her breath. She almost choked when the door swung open a second later.

Behind the door stood a shirtless Azriel with a fluffy blue towel secured around his waist. Water droplets clung to every part of his body, brightening the black ink swirling across his shoulders, neck, and chest. Elain only realized she was staring when he gently cleared his throat, shooting a half smile her way.

Squaring her shoulders, Elain proclaimed, “I need your help.”

ARTWORK FOR THIS CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: HERE

DIVIDERS BY: @saradika-graphics

[mini-kids-clothing-shop]

Girls Navy Hooded Xmas Dressing Gown

♥Find Your Fashion Identity: Explore Our Diverse Clothing Selection!♥👏Hey there, fashion lovers! Girls Navy Hooded Xmas Dressing Gown🎁 Price Only 👉 £15.00👕👚 Visit - https://www.minikidz.co.uk/products/girls-navy-hooded-xmas-dressing-gownDEALS & OFFERS - Get Up To 15% Off When You Spend £15 + Free Shipping Over £25. Jingle all the way to bedtime in this fun Christmas dressing gown! With merry holiday characters on a navy background, it s perfect for cozy nights and giggles. A cosy hood, toasty long sleeves, and treat-sized pockets make it a warm Christmas hug- Santa-approved!100% Plush Fleece PolyesterMachine washable 🏬 Shop now! 👕👚 (Please note:All prices & promo code are subject to change without notice and are not guaranteed.)

[violettduchess]

I am so in love with your Comte domestic au, I have read it so many times! What about a continuation for au week? It would have to be the "free space day," so if you have something in mind, obviously disregard this. But what about more domestic with Comte and his family spending time together? Or maybe for the soul mate au, it could take place before your other au fic, where Comte finds his soul mate? Oooh, or it could still be soul mates, but the kids are grown, and he's reflecting on big moments they've spent together?

Anyway... obviously, just delete this if you're not taking requests anymore or if you don't wanna use them. Sorry this got so long.

A/N: Hello anon! Here you go! This is a Soulmate au explaining how Comte met the mother of his children from this Domestic Bliss au from last years event! (and to the anon who asked for Comte and Bookstore au and the anon who asked for Comte and Coffee shop au....I combined them all 💜)

An entry for @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady 's Different Universe Same Love CCC

Comte x female reader

WC: 1349

Inked into the skin of your right shoulder, your black and white tree tattoo reaches towards the sky with its bare, spindly branches that echo the gangling shape of spider legs. You chose the image after going for a walk on a stark winter's morning. Something about it resonated with you, echoing the vacuity of your lonely heart.

You’re shelving the latest bloodsucking Young Adult novel, breathing in that delectable new paper smell, when a voice rich as caramel, interrupts, asking if you could please direct him towards the foreign literature. You turn to find yourself looking into arresting, honey-colored eyes set in a face that jerks your heart awake from its lonesome stasis. It begins beating a lively, almost frantic rhythm in your chest.

You give him directions even as you try to fit all the pieces of this beautiful man together in your mind: wavy dark blond hair, slanted cheekbones, lips that smile easily and with such warmth. He thanks you but doesn’t move. Neither do you. The moment your eyes met, something took its first breath, something cocooned deep in the chambers of your hearts and sparked to life by your connection, like the fertile meeting of sunlight and water. 

A few minutes later you have a date to meet for coffee.

It feels so much larger than it sounds. 

That night, as you lay in bed, dreams inhabited by a man with desert eyes, your tattoo changes. The branches are peppered with small, newborn leaves the color of limes. Fragile. Delicate. Hopeful.

The coffee shop is small, a hidden gem tucked into a side street you’ve never ventured down. You arrive too early, a habit you usually pride yourself on but now is causing waves of anxiety to rush through you. Will you look too eager? Who cares because it is truth. You are eager. You are so very eager to see Comte again.

And then, as if responding to the siren call of your longing, he appears in the doorway, gilded in sunlight. He looks damn near angelic as he enters the shop, a place that suddenly seems so mundane with its walls covered in glossy photos of coffee beans and faded tile floor. 

He joins you, ordering tea, so much more civilized than your giant cappuccino topped with cinnamon and chocolate dust. Your eyes meet his and you flush, looking away. What now? Panic rears its ugly head, trampling the excited beat of your heart into the ground.

“Is that the latest X. Sycamore novel?” He notices what you have laying casually on the table by your drink, the beautiful indigo cover and gold lettering. It may be old-fashioned but you are a lover of books you can wrap your hands around, covers you can touch. Someone who has a tactile love of words. You nod. “Do you like her work?” In answer he reaches behind him, into the pocket of his beautifully-tailored beige coat and pulls out the exact same book.

From there it’s easy. So easy. One cappuccino becomes two. One cup of tea multiples like flower buds in spring time. Conversation flows like a current between you, rife with warmth and crackling with soft electricity. You decide you can’t pinpoint the exact color of his eyes because they are always changing. The brightness of Goldenrod when he is happy, dark as pyrite when he’s contemplating, animated as the sun’s shimmering caress of the sea when excited. You learn all his facial expressions and soak in the sound of his voice, burying them deep inside your heart to recall at any time.

When he checks his wristwatch and sighs, you sense your time together nearing its end. You stand abruptly, a motion spurred by the wild desire to beg him to stay and the need to act as though you are perfectly fine with him leaving. Unfortunately you knock against the table, sending your half-full cappuccino toppling just as he’s gathering his coat. Your heart, so light and breezy, turns to stone like a gargoyle in sunlight, sinking down into the twisting pit of your stomach. The stain across the expensive wool looks garish, something out of a horror movie.

At first he refuses your offer to pay for the dry cleaning but you are insistent and he relents. You feel oddly giddy. If the price of seeing him again is a cleaning a soiled coat, then you are willing to pay it. Gladly.

That night, your tree changes yet again. The branches are fuller, anointed in thick, lustrous green. Leaves unfurl themselves towards an invisible sun, towards a welcoming sky.

You hold the freshly cleaned jacket as if it is a child in your arms, tenderly so as not to wrinkle it. The garment bag is a soft blue, a stark contrast to the dark, rich colors of the mansion you find yourself walking through. If elegance were to fashion itself into a home, this would be it. Your heels click across the polished wood as the butler leads you to where Comte is waiting for you. His library.

The garment bag is removed from your arms and he is speaking in that sonorous voice as he greets you but you are not listening. Your mind is trying to soak in the sight of the shelves, rows and rows of shelves, towering above you to meet the breathtaking molded ceiling. Surely this is heaven. Surely he is its keeper.

His hand on your shoulder steadies you, brings you back down to earth, to his warm gaze and the scent of sandalwood. Would you like a tour? You nod and his hand slips down until it takes yours, gentle at first, questioning. You tighten your grip, wordlessly telling him yes, this is ok. Yes you want this. His exhale of relief is audible. 

“Let’s begin over here, with Molière.”

That night, your tree has added hundreds of tiny buds clustered throughout its green branches. Each flower bud a tiny pink universe waiting to be born.

He invites you to the cinema where you hold his hand, fingers interlaced as you lose yourselves in the story playing across the screen. The dream ends when the lights come on, scattering the wispy remnants of magic the movie spun around its audience.

You step out of the theater, hands still clasped together and stop as you notice the light haze of rain that has started falling. You glance at Comte. The bus stop you need to get to is several blocks down. He squeezes your hand. 

"It doesn't look so bad, chérie. Shall we?"

You agree and together step out into the cool rain. For the first minute it really isn't so bad. The rain dampens your clothing, kisses your skin gently. But after that, it's as if the clouds decided the warm-up is over. The storm gathers its thunderous drums and flashy lightning guitars and the real show begins.

You jump as his arm gathers you close against his side for protection, a bulwark in the sudden downpour. Together you search for shelter through the blur of rain. It only takes you a second to remember where you are. 

The oversized awning of the bookstore shields you from most of the heavy rain. You turn within the circle of Comte's protective embrace, your gaze slowly tracing a path up the pale column of his throat, the angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips where it stops, caught there like a thread on a nail. Something warm is unspooling within you, lifting you up to meet him as he leans down, both of you moving in unspoken tandem. Your eyes flutter closed and the world shrinks down to the feel of his lips on yours, cool with rainwater. 

The moment your lips touch, you glow with the warmth you have felt in his presence from the beginning. It plunges into the furthest corners of your heart, taking root. As he cradles your head in his gentle hand, his mouth moving over yours, seeking and finding, you know. 

You know. 

You know. 

He is yours, now and forever.

That night, you sleep in Comte’s strong arms. Your tattoo is in full bloom, a symphony of soft, pink cherry blossoms, a timeless concert of exquisite joy and breathtaking tenderness. A testament to the love of two souls, meant to be.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @bubblexly

[bleached-latina]

Christmas Creations (Armin Arlert fluff)

This is for my girl @arlerts-angel

Just a little holiday fluff with our favorite blonde babe

Taglist:

@arlerts-angel @arlertwitch @leviismybby @humanitys-strongest-bamf sorry if I forgot anyone

“Angel? Y/D/N? Are you guys home?” Armin asked as he stepped through the door, shrugging off his puffy winter coat that your daughter insisted that he wore this morning because ‘You’ll get sick daddy’.

And there’s one thing that everyone who knew Armin Arlert knew without a shadow of a doubt: there were 2 people on this planet that are completely spoiled rotten.

You and your daughter.

Armin followed the sound of sudden giggles to see the two most important people in his life sitting on the floor with colored pencils in their hands.

Armin leaned against the door, his heart full as he watched the love of his life play with their daughter that they made out of love. A daughter that was Armin’s carbon copy, much to your dismay.

“I spent 9 months growing her and then birthing her and she has the nerve to be a carbon copy of you,”

“What can I say, I’ve got strong genetics,” He had leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as you and your newborn spent quality time getting skin to skin contact.

“Daddy!” Your four year old smiled beamingly at Armin and you looked behind you to see your husband gazing at you both with the most loving look that you’d seen in his oceanic eyes.

“What did you draw?” Armin asked, picking his little princess up in his arms.

“Mama made Santa and I made the reindeer,” she smiled, while you grabbed the drawings.

“Are you ready to show daddy?” You asked, pressing a quick kiss to your husband’s lips.

“Eww! Mommy you’re gonna catch cooties,”

“So daddy has cooties?” You gasped in mock surprise.

“Yeah, Rosie told me,” Jean and Mikasa’s daughter was ever so slightly older than your daughter, and always fills your daughter in on the ways to survive being a big girl. Apparently the most chief lesson recently has been about how boys have cooties.

“Did Rosie say if the doctor can get rid of it?” Armin asked.

“Nope. All boys have them. It’s why boys have to stand up to use the potty,” That had earned a snicker from Armin and you.

You, unlike your husband, we’re better at hiding it with a cough.

“Well dang, looks like my littlest princess can’t have any goodnight kisses after her bedtime story,” Armin said in a singsong voice.

“Rosie’s wrong,” your daughter said with the most sincere look on her face. The prospect of no more goodnight daddy kisses was unacceptable.

“No I can’t have my princess getting cooties,” Armin had to bite back a laugh.

“I don’t care. Daddy cooties are okay,”

“Yeah daddy cooties are fine. It’s those other boy cooties you need to watch out for,” you smiled, brushing some loose blonde hairs from her forehead.

“Hey, so since you and mommy got to draw, how about we all go see Christmas lights tonight after dinner,”

“Can we?” The four year old suddenly became extremely hard to hold from her bouncing at the prospects of Christmas lights.

“Only if you finish all of your dinner,”

“Veggie too?” Your daughter asked and you nodded.

“Yeap, veggies have to be in your tummy before we go,” you told her, tickling her tummy.

“You and mommy clean up while I make dinner, how’s that?” Armin asked and your daughter nodded before grabbing her colored pencils and putting them back in the box.

“Hey Angel, did you ever think when we met that our lives would be like this?” Armin asked, his crystal eyes on his mini me.

“No, but I love every second of it,” you smiled softly at the man you got to call your husband for the rest of your lives.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me,” Armin teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. It was one of those kisses that, while you were a great mother and never forgot about your kid, made you forget the world around you existed. It was as if time stopped in that moment. The only thing that mattered to you was Armin’s lips against yours and strong hands holding you.

“Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way,” you smiled and Armin pulled you in for another kiss.

“Mommy… Daddy… Can you stop kissing so we can go see lights faster?” Your daughter asked innocently, getting a laugh from you both.

[askthebadkidz]

It snowed and we thought Riz would be upset but he’s just flexing his winter coat on us 😒

I wish he was like cats where they have this part of their back you can grab to make them go limp immediately.

carrying his ass home like a newborn kitten

-Fig

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 12: Dowdy

Since the moment she was put into clothes for the first time as a newborn infant, Aeryn Striker had Opinions about what she wore.

From the feel of the fabric to its color to the number of buttons or hooks or strings, to the patterns and designs, cut and quality, the child was pickier than her parents often knew what to do with. Her elder brother was the first to realize the baby’s fuss came from disliking certain clothing items.

Unfortunately for tiny Aeryn, her parents were not wealthy, and clothing for an active, fast-growing child in a farming community needed to be economical above all else. So hand-me-downs from her brother and other village children, and cheap, sturdy fabrics that could take the wear and tear and staining, and could be let out for a time until she entirely outgrew them.

There were tears and pouts, shouts and crying, when she didn’t like her outfits. One summer morning everyone had a good laugh as Corran tried to catch an entirely naked three-year-old racing through the village.

In the end, Zaine could usually, mostly, get Aeryn to acquiesce for a time, distracting her with treats or toys or exploration or other childish games. Her natural inquisitiveness and sense of adventure could make her temporarily forget the uncomfortable, the shapeless, the ugly.

And she would “lose” things she particularly hated, in convoluted ways that left them unsalvageable. Otherwise Zaine would just find them and make her wear them again.

Finding outfits Aeryn did like came with their own problems of her wanting to wear them always, until entirely stained and discolored, and worn all the way through; they rarely lasted long enough for her to grow out of, and there was no handing them off to someone else’s child.

“She’ll eat everything put in front of her, listen to long sermons politely, be quiet when asked—and given a ‘good’ reason, sure, but still,” Emelia sighed. “I do not know what we are going to do if she ‘loses’ another pair of shoes, let alone this year’s winter coat.”

These habits only changed slightly on the family’s move to Thavnair.

The lighter fabrics felt better, and the patterns and designs, the colors and embellishments, all pleased Aeryn greatly. Some of it was the novelty at first, but even once she was used to the Hannish styles, she found…less to complain about.

She was old enough to no longer streak through the neighborhoods in fits of toddler petulance, for which Emelia thanked every divinity, and hoped the worst of this particular difficulty finished.

—

It could be said that Nani Shaila didn’t really get along with anyone, but she particularly disliked Zaine and Aeryn. The mother of Tanzel Eadir’s late wife, Nani Shaila resented his marriage to Emelia, feeling her own daughter was being replaced, regardless of her grandchildren assuring her otherwise.

She stayed under Tanzel’s roof for them…and also because none of her other children wished to deal with her. Tanzel was a man of patience and a firm enough will to mostly keep his first mother-in-law in line. His own mother, and new mother-in-law, helped.

But Tanzel was also a busy man and important to their Coooperative’s business dealings. So of course, the first time back in Radz-at-Han since her mother had married Tanzel (whom Aeryn liked quite a lot, but still felt painfully shy around), it was Nani Shaila minding the younger children as they went shopping in the Bazaar. And Aeryn being the youngest of all the Eadir children, Nani Shaila felt she had to keep the little girl at her side the whole time.

“I’m eight, Nani,” Aeryn tried to remind her. “I’m big enough to go ‘round by myself. I’ll even run errands for you!”

“Hrmph,” Nani Shaila looked down her nose. “You’re scrawny for eight,” she said again. “And tend toward trouble besides. Oh, you’ll complete the errands—in your own time and way, and I shall be left to clean up after you.”

“Or send Rashae to do it,” Aeryn said, before thinking. She winced, and then winced again when Nani Shaila gave her cheek a finger-flick. 

“Mind that impudent tongue, girl,” her step-Nani said. “Just for that, the book stall’s where we shall visit last. Now take my hand; it’s far too busy today and you’ll get stepped on by an Arkasodara otherwise.”

Aeryn doubted that, but slipped her hand into Nani Shaila’s iron-claw grasp and hurried after her longer stride. She said nothing else, paying half-attention as Nani Shaila visited various shops and stalls, many of them wholesalers, haggling for prices, and having her goods packaged and delivered to the Cooperative’s building.

“Almost done,” Nani Shaila said over three hours later. The sun was well past noon, it was hot and sticky-humid, and Aeryn was tired, hungry, and bored. Her arm seemed nearly pulled from its socket, drug about by Nani Shaila all afternoon. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were her own Nani Zahra, or even Dodi Anya. But they wouldn’t have kept her at their sides and then complained about her being underfoot all day, either.

Still, Aeryn perked up when she saw where they were headed next; a dress shop, yalms of colorful, silky fabrics on display out front.

“Hrm. I hear they’ve come under new management,” Nani Shaila said. “Behave yourself.”

Which meant “don’t touch anything,” which was quite possibly the worst thing ever.

The Hyur shopkeeper behind the counter had a mustache, so Aeryn supposed he was grown up despite how roundly soft and smooth his face was, and that he was only as tall as her Nani. He smiled too broadly and greeted them. “Welcome, madame, welcome! What might I do for you and your grandchild on this fine day?”

Most of the other shopkeepers had immediately recognized Nani Shaila as a Cooperative representative. Many of them had known her (unfortunately) for years, but others had taken one look at how she wore her jewelry, turban, and dress and knew.

But this man was young, and new, so maybe he didn’t know how to tell yet. Aeryn watched him, since she was allowed to do little else.

“We had a deal with your predecessor, and I mean to see if that might continue.”

“Mmm, yes of course. I cannot honor any prior bargains, of course; times change, prices go up, and if one doesn’t keep up, well one doesn’t keep a shop. But I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement.”

Nani Shaila’s eyes narrowed. “Hmph. We’ll see. To start, young man, I want to check on bolts of Doman silk.”

“Ah, yes of course. Just a moment, let me go find those for you…” He turned and began checking the stacks behind him.

“They’re right there,” Aeryn said, pointing to a rack covered in a brilliant rainbow of bolts. She was fairly certain an adult should have been able to see it from the counter.

“Why yes, good eye, little one!” the clerk said. “If it had been a bhujamga it would have bit me. So many things to keep track of.”

Nani Shaila squeezed her hand in a warning, but Aeryn really was trying to be helpful, and the clerk seemed glad for it.

“Here we are then, madame, the finest and newest of Doman silk!” He lifted up one of the bolts. Aeryn saw dust on the cloth when it caught the light. “Perfect for a new sari, or even just something to spruce up an old market dress, eh?”

“This is a new dress,” Nani Shaila said coolly, checking the edge of the silk. “But I see your meaning.”

“I perhaps misspoke to say ‘old’ when I meant more…classically styled.”

“You’re wearing last season’s style,” Aeryn said. “And it’s not even fit right.”

“Aeryn.”

“But Nani—”

The clerk frowned now. “Your grandchild doesn’t know when to stay quiet, I take it?”

“She does unfortunately tend to be honest,” Nani Shaila said. It took both Aeryn and the clerk a moment to realize what she had just said. “I believe we’ll be shopping elsewhere. Good day.”

She turned, dragging Aeryn along as she strode out of the shop. 

They were halfway down the block when Nani Shaila suddenly laughed. She had a sharp, cackley sort of laugh that Aeryn didn’t hear very often. “I meant to drag that out longer before laying into the poor fool, but his face! Leave it to you to know when something’s wrong concerning clothes.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

Nani Shaila looked down her nose at Aeryn. “There’s still time in the day,” she answered acerbically, then paused and looked along the road again. “But I suppose it is past time we went to the book stall.”

Aeryn grinned. It may not have been the best day, and there weren’t new clothes nor even bolts of cloth to make any, and she was still stuck with Nani Shaila, but it wasn’t all bad.