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icanhearcolors · 7 months

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Close Encounter

Summary: A conversation between my Tav and Astarion inspired me to write a short one-shot (I lied it's a series) reader insert about what I think would happen if they met before they were taken by the mind flayers

pt 2 | pt 3

This is pretty much my first attempt at reader insert so be nice to me pls ;-;

Lemme know if I made any grammar or spelling errors

Word count: 2.9k

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“I’ll take the most you can give me of whatever has the most alcohol in it”

You announce, slapping some gold coins down on the scuffed wooden bar. The barkeep who probably hasn’t had any business for the past hour startles out of his daydream and glances at you in surprise. He’s a dwarf, with a braided beard and kind eyes, and if it weren’t for the creaky wooden step stool he climbs up on to take orders he would barely be able to see over the bar top.

“Bit early in the night for that wouldn’t you say?” He asks as he climbs a ladder to retrieve a glass from the shelf above his head. You glance out the window as the last few rays of the setting sun color the night a deep reddish purple before it fades into a comforting black.

You slide another gold coin across the bar. The barkeep smiles,

“Perfect time for some chultun fireswill if I say so myself miss.” He winks, slides the hefty glass full of orange liquid your way, and swipes up the coins before turning to another customer making their way into the tavern. You hold the glass up to your nose and sniff its contents. The fumes coming off the heavily spiced spirit has your nose burning and your eyes watering- perfect.

You tap the glass on the counter and knock it back. You manage to get a few swallows in before your brain catches up to you and the fireswill burns a searing path from your throat into your stomach, settling there and warming you from the inside out. You slam the glass down and cover your mouth with your hand, trying and failing to hold in a fit of coughs.

“Easy now.”

A cold hand lands on your shoulder, cooling your heated skin, and you turn, bleary eyed, unprepared for what you find.

He’s an elf, a very very pale elf- but not sickly pale. He just looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in a century or two. His hair catches your eye, a shocking shade of pure white that makes his skin seem tan in comparison. It’s shorter than most elves keep their hair, and it curls in every direction, framing his face beautifully. Once you recover from your initial dazed attraction to him you attempt to level him with your meanest glare that you hope says piss off. He raises his hands in playful surrender and smiles disarmingly at you.

“Rough day?” He asks in a drawling voice. You take him in. He’s wearing a clean white shirt under a set of padded leather armor, and spotless black leather boots. He looks every bit a spoiled noble that has never seen a day of work in his life, but his hands are calloused, and his eyes look haunted. Speaking of his eyes, they’re quite an alluring shade of red. What an odd color for an elf-

His eyes narrow perceptively, as if he’s reading your thoughts as they flit across your face. He turns away, gesturing at your drink and turning your gaze away from his unique appearance.

“Most Baldurians don’t even touch that stuff until well past midnight, are we celebrating or forgetting?”

You turn your body away from the charming elf and stare into the last few sips of your drink.

“We aren’t doing anything. I’m here to drink, not to talk.”

“Forgetting it is then. Excellent.”

From the corner of his eye you see him grin roguishly, the flash of his white teeth sending a curious spark of adrenaline through your system. Before you can discern why you suddenly went from warm and buzzed to fight or flight, he turns away, tossing a blue coin purse onto the bar and calling for the barkeep, allowing the alcohol to calm your frazzled nerves once more.

“Excuse me Lydon, I’d like to buy our grumpy friend here a drink that won’t burn a hole through her stomach,” He leans over the bar and drops his voice to a low murmur as if he were sharing a secret, “got anything good for me?” he practically purrs.

The dwarf, Lydon, flushes a deep red and grins coyly at the mysterious patron, “Maybe. But I don’t have enough for everyone Astarion, what if someone comes asking me how she got the good stuff and all I’m willing to sell them is stale ale and swill?”

Astarion’s answering grin is downright lethal.

“It’ll be our little secret,” He winks. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

Lydon blushes even darker if that were possible and mumbles something about having a type before trodding off toward the old wooden door behind the bar. You’d never related to anything more. Astarion turns toward you and raises an expectant eyebrow.

“Waiting for a thank you?” You ask, wrestling with the instinct ingrained in you to be polite. Your tendency to people please is what landed you in this run down tavern in the first place. You don’t know this elf, and you don’t owe him anything.

“Well I wouldn’t say no to a little gratitude darling- especially not from you” his eyes trace a path from the top of your head to your scuffed leather boots and back up again, stopping at the blush on your cheeks, he smirks, and meets your eyes again. He steps closer to bump your shoulder with his teasingly, and stays there, close enough that your arm brushes his.

“But no my dear, I’m not waiting for a thank you. I’m waiting for a story.”

“Oh yeah? Keep waiting.” You growl, and he tosses his head back, a genuine laugh bursting out of him. The sound of it is contagious, and you fight the urge to grin yourself. You nearly manage it, save for a slight twitch of your lips that he of course notices.

He tsks, shaking his head at you “I saw that. No use hiding that smile from me, love. The damage is already done.”

You glare, this time with much less hostility.

“Who are you? I’m morose and drunk on purpose, elf, and I will not let you wrestle me from it.”

“My name is Astarion” he says with a wink and a mock bow before he leans in, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, “and I’ll wager you’ll let me do a lot worse than that before the end of the night.”

Your breath catches, your pulse picks up, and you’re about to lose yourself in those strange eyes of his when a loud creeeeeaaak and a crash causes both of you to leap away from one another. The dwarven barkeep’s old step stool seems to have finally given in. He lay sprawled on the floor behind the bar, his foot caught in between the split wood.

“GODS DAMMIT” He howls, kicking off the stool. He sighs and hobbles up to you and your new… companion. You can see nothing but his angry eyes and the flushed red tips of his ears as he pours your drink and reaches up to hand it to you. When you grab for it he pulls it out of your grasp and stares at you with a threat in his eyes.

“You didn’t see that.” He snarls at both of you.

“See what?” Astarion feigns ignorance, looking around the room dramatically for whatever the dwarf could possibly be talking about. The barkeep rolls his eyes and hands the drink to you before limping off to find a chair to stand on.

You breathe slowly through your nose.

In.

Out.

In.

You will not laugh.

You have self control.

You take one glance at the pinched “I’m trying not to laugh” look on Astarions face, one that probably mirrors your own, and you explode in a fit of giggles so intense they make your stomach ache.

Astarion can’t hold it in either and slaps the table in his silent gasping laughter, the two of you making quite a scene, but somehow you really don’t care.

You wipe tears from your eyes and sigh once your laughing fit subsides, your sour mood a distant memory despite your best efforts to cling to it.

“How dare you,” You whine half-heartedly. “I was so committed to my bad mood and you had to go and ruin it.”

Astarion’s eyebrows lower in confused amusement.

“Awww you poor sad little thing. I’d apologize, really I would, but unfortunately for you I’m not sorry.”

You take a swig of the drink he bought for you. It tastes of cherry and currant, and you have never had something so delicious from such a tiny little tavern.

“You should be” you murmur, hanging your head, the humor fading as you’re reminded of why you’re here in the first place.

Astarion notices your shift in demeanor and reaches down, lifting your chin with a cool finger and bringing your gaze to his.

“About that story,” He smiles encouragingly, and you give in.

The alcohol must really be getting to you now, there was no other explanation for the warm, safe feeling that hummed under your skin. Astarion was sweet, and attractive. His attention felt good, and before you could even make the decision to trust him you were already talking. You told him how you were a magistrate in the lower city, complained how the court system was broken and corrupt, and how the judge only appoints magistrates that unthinkingly obey his preferences, never allowing them to make their own judgements. You had tried for months to get on his good side but you think all you did was obliterate any meager scrap of respect he did have for you, and now every interaction you have with him he barks orders at you like you’re his dog and then dismisses you. You were thinking of finding a new profession altogether, but the lower city was plagued with crime, good people died every day because of it, and you had the power to help at least a little if only your boss wasn’t such an asshole. To your embarrassment you began to tear up as you finished your story.

Astarion for his part never interrupts you. He listens with rapt attention to your woeful tale, an indiscernible look on his handsome face. You try to turn your head away as a tear escapes your eye but his grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to stay right where you are. He wipes it away with his other hand and stares at you for a moment, seemingly deciding something.

He reaches up and drags a hand through his hair, releases a held breath, and plucks the glass from your hand, drinking what was left of its contents in two gulps. He brings the glass back down to the counter, a drop of the crimson wine dripping down his chin. The image gives you an odd feeling, like you’re missing a revelation that is only just out of your grasp. He glances behind you, and you turn and follow his gaze to another rather pale looking elf, this one with darker hair but similarly colored eyes watching the two of you with rapt attention. Goosebumps rise on your skin and that fight or flight instinct is back in full force. Your heart begins to pound against your chest, understanding the danger that you’re in even if you do not.

“Smart girl” Astarion murmurs, and you whip back around to face him.

He wipes his face with his sleeve and grabs you by the hand, pulling you off the bar stool.

“W-what are you-” He places a hand on your lower back and begins deftly guiding you through the raucous crowd of drunk Baldurians. One stumbling wizard in the crowd pats his pockets down and cries,

“Has anyone seen my coin purse? It’s blue!”

“Walk faster” Astarion says into your ear, his warm breath whispering across your neck. You do as he says.

After what feels like a lifetime of dodging drunk elbows and slipping through temporary openings in the crowd you reach the exit, and Astarion rushes you soberingly into the cold night air.

“You stole that guy's money didn’t you?” You accuse.

He doesn’t even have the decency to deny it,

“What are you going to do darling? Arrest me?” is his reply.

He doesn’t slow down for a single second, ushering you into a dark alley near the tavern.

“Astarion what are we doing? You can’t just wander into abandoned alleyways at night! This is how people get kidnapped.”

His startled gaze clashes with yours in the dim light for a moment before he laughs. Not an amused genuine laugh, but a pained, choked sound that claws its way out of his throat involuntarily. He runs a hand through his hair once again and then turns away from you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It is indeed, darling,” He whispers so quietly you have to lean towards him to hear it.

“You have no idea.”

You don’t have time to react, the alcohol slowing your reflexes, before his hand is around your throat and your back is against the brick wall of whatever building is behind you. You reach up and grab his wrist, eyes widening in panic. For a flash you see in your mind your body lying asphyxiated in the revealing light of morning, another victim to the merciless city of Baldur’s gate, and you prepare to fight like hell, when Astarion lunges for you and…

Kisses you?

Your brain short circuits, all thoughts drifting away with the sensation of Astarion’s mouth on yours. His hand around your throat gentles, his long fingers drifting over your skin until they press into your pulse point, feeling your racing heartbeat.

You fist his shirt sleeve in your hand. Maybe it's because you’re smashed, maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time someone kissed you, maybe it’s because you know no one that’s ever kissed you has been as good at it as this man- whatever the reason may be, you kiss him back.

He tilts his head and deepens the kiss, stepping closer until his body is pressed against yours. You reach up to do what you’ve been dying to do since you first saw him and feel the soft strands of his hair.

He leans into your touch and it emboldens you to kiss him deeper, your tongue scraping against something… sharp?

He gasps and pulls back, just a few inches, staring into your eyes. He seems to be searching for something, almost desperately.

You stare back, equal parts terrified of and enraptured by this beautiful stranger.

Finally, he drops his hand from your neck and steps back, the cold air assaulting you once more as you crash back down to reality. You gaze at Astarion, confusion written all over your features.

“I can’t do this” He laughs. It sounds just as pained as the last one.

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t bring you to him”

His head snaps up to the sky, studying the stars.

“I still have time to find another. Petras saw me with you, he’ll tell Cazador if I come back with someone else. But I can lie. I can say you knew what I was, escaped before I could lure you back. Maybe he won't question it. I’d spend a few weeks in the kennels but it could be worse. I can’t tell him I changed my mind, I can’t spend another year in that tomb.” He’s rambling now, not to you but to himself.

He rubs his face in his hands and takes another stumbling step back.

“Go” Is all he says.

“Go? Go where?” You mumble, feeling cold and strangely a little hurt by his retreat into the shadows.

You don’t have dark vision, in the dim torch light much of his face is now hidden from you, but his eerily red eyes seem to glow like a cat’s now in the dark. The sight fills you with dread. Pieces begin to connect, the hundreds of unsolved missing person cases, the handful of eyewitness accounts claiming they saw the missing leave with someone. The descriptions varied, but a few details remained constant. The unknown person was always charming, flirtatious even, they tried to get their victims intoxicated in some way, and they always had a pallid complexion, red eyes, and sharp canines. Sifting sluggishly through your muddled memories you can even recall a couple of accounts of victims leaving taverns on the arm of a white haired pale elven man.

Astarion was a vampire.

“Go back to the courts,” He begins, “and never apologize to Judge Eruien. Stand up to him when he’s being an ass, he’ll never respect you otherwise. Go back home and lock your doors safely behind you. Never invite anyone in unless you trust them implicitly. Go back to your life in the sun, make Baldur’s gate a little better just by being in it, and if you ever-” He leans toward you, his face inches from yours once more. Now that you know what to look for, you catch glimpses of his uncomfortably long canines with every word that he speaks.

“See anyone with eyes like mine again… run.”

With that he steps back into the shadows. They seem to swallow him whole, and you do run, a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you never told Astarion the name of that judge you were lamenting about.

In the years that follow you take his advice, and your work life drastically improves. Enough so that you feel comfortable asking the old elven judge about his former magistrates, a tear dripping down your cheek as he tells you what he can recall about a white haired elf with golden eyes and a promising future that was ripped away when he was murdered almost two centuries ago by a gang of Gur that didn’t appreciate his final ruling.

A month later you wake up in a nautiloid.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #angst #oneshot #baldurs gate astarion

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littlejuicebox · 3 months

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Little Lockpick.

Okay this is the last addition for the weekend.

My ADHD hyperfixated on Dadstarion and now I need to focus on my big girl life and job for the week.

Definitely didn’t mean to go this crazy on the writing but hey, when inspiration strikes. 🤷‍♀️

I really need to update these headers at some point. Problems for future Gina.

Summary: Toddler Gale has developed new magic skills and wants Papastarion to open a lock NOW. Right now. Tav has some interesting news after an appointment.

Tags/Warnings: kids, babies, parenthood, fluff, idk what else?

Astarion is in his office, trying to work, which is almost impossible with Gale sitting on his lap. The toddler is fiddling with something in his small hands as his father reads over a scroll for the second time, trying to focus on the words. It’s become increasingly difficult to do so as frustrated huffs and grunts escape the almost-three-year-old.

“Daddy! Help!” Gale exclaims, pulling Astarion’s attention from the scroll and down to the little silver-haired boy. The toddler is shaking what’s in his hand up at his father, nose crinkled in displeasure.

“Hmm…” The elf murmurs, taking the little toy — if you could call it that — from his son. It’s a small padlock. The toddler had been trying, quite incessantly, to open it for nearly half an hour. It was enough to keep Gale pre-occupied while his mother went to her appointment, but now the toddler is getting frustrated and his father knows there will soon be a melt down if the issue isn’t remedied.

“Little prince, where did you find this?” Astarion asks while handing the tiny metal lock back to Gale. The silver-haired boy climbs off his father’s lap. Uncoordinated legs take him over to the bookshelf along the office wall, and he points to the bottom shelf.

“Found here! Right here.” The toddler babbles, crinkling his white eyebrows at his father, wondering why the older man is asking him such a silly question. Gale is growing more impatient, upset that Astarion simply isn’t doing what he asked and opening the lock. But no, daddy insists on asking him these questions instead, “Why daddy? Why? Open it!”

Tiny fingers grip the loop of the lock again, trying and failing to release the mechanism with sheer force. The child’s two little arms aren’t strong enough to pry open the lock. Gale is growing more and more frustrated. Red patches flush across his cheeks as he grunts, compelling Astarion to move from his chair and crouch in front of the toddler, intending to placate him.

“We need a key to open the lock, Gale. I was hoping there would be one near where you found the lock but I don’t think—“ The elf starts, but he’s cut off by a high pitched wail escaping his son.

“OPEN! OPEN! OPEN!”

The little boy is throwing himself on the ground now, still gripping the offending toy. Fat, frustrated tears are falling from his gorgeous green eyes. He’s practically the spitting image of his father, and even in his tantrums he is a beautiful, adorable thing. But Astarion begins to panic, knowing Gale needs to calm down, he needs to calm down before—

The toddler shrieks at the top of his lungs and a powerful gust of wind comes from nowhere, knocking Astarion onto his back and sending a flurry of papers shooting off the desk.

It’s ironic, Astarion thinks, that his son is named Gale and the first spell he can unintentionally cast is a gust of wind whenever he’s throwing a tantrum. The elf is groaning in pain as his eyes clamp shut; he is trying desperately to regain his composure before he addresses the toddler. These terrible twos have been… well, terrible. Astarion’s patience is running thin.

He remembers his wife’s coaching. Deep breath in, long exhale out. The poor little prince doesn’t know any better.

The wind scares Gale into silence. He doesn’t yet understand his powers, and when he sees his father knocked prone on the floor, he starts crying again. They’re sticky, snot-filled, guilty tears, this time. He doesn’t understand how he conjures the wind, but he does know that the damage is his fault. Despite his current tantrum, Gale is an overall empathetic and sensitive boy, and the vision of the damage he’s done worries him.

“Sorry, daddy!” The toddler gasps through choked cries, sitting himself up and bunching his hands in tight, worried fists which he brings to the sides of his face, “I a bad boy!”

Astarion rolls himself up to a sitting position and scoops the child into his arms with a belabored sigh, “You’re not a bad boy, Gale.”

He soothes the child in a soft coo as he rubs small circles on the little boy’s back. Gale’s small body continues to wrack with sobs as his father places a kiss on his crown of silvery curls and whispers, “You’re just an exceptionally powerful one. But you get that from your mother, little prince.”

The elf stands, taking his son with him in the process as he walks out of the office, headed towards the bedchambers and still rubbing the little boy’s back as the toddler begins to calm down.

The papers will just have to be cleaned up later.

“Again, again, daddy!”

When you find your husband and child, they are both laying atop your bed, facing away from the door. Gale is giggling incessantly and clapping his hands together, asking his father to repeat something.

“There you two are. What are you doing?” You ask as you enter the room, one hand on your stomach. You’ve just come from an appointment with Jaheira.

The two men turn their heads and grin at you practically in unison. It makes you chuckle. It’s truly startling, how similar they are from their looks to their mannerisms. You catch sight of Astarion’s old lockpicking kit between the two of them, and your eyebrow cocks curiously.

“Are you really showing our toddler how to pick locks, Astarion?” You ask as you make your way to sit on the bed with the rest of your little family.

“Yes. But it’s a bit of a story, love. I’ll fill you in on the details later.” Your husband responds, handing the padlock and one of the tools to Gale, where he attempts to mimic the previous motions of his father. His tiny tongue sticks out as he focuses.

Astarion moves to kiss your cheek and then lightly brushes his fingers against your abdomen, subtly greeting the growing life inside, “How did the appointment go?”

“Good…” You murmur in a long, drawled out way. By your tone and the large grin spreading across your face, your husband can tell something is up.

His eyebrow cocks as he assesses your face, trying to decipher the thoughts behind your eyes. Whatever it is, it obviously isn’t bad news, and the knot in his stomach he’d constantly carried prior to this preliminary check-up is starting to finally subside as he analyzes you.

It took a long time to conceive this round; you two had nearly given up. When you finally missed your moonblood, both of you were waiting with bated breath for the first month. This experience was a sharp contrast to Gale’s conception, which happened easily, by accident and without much thought. Both of you had been emotional, nervous wrecks up until now.

“What is it, darling?” Your husband asks, smiling despite himself, simply matching your energy.

“Jaheira is almost certain it’s twins, Astarion.” You respond, and then you’re laughing as you watch your husband’s face turn from shocked to excited to worried to overwhelmed all in the span of a few seconds.

“Twins?” He asks, dumbly, trying to process the new information. A hand comes to rake through his curls as he exhales through the shock, “Love, we might need to hire some more help, I know you said you didn’t want to, but—“

“Yes, I was thinking the same. Especially if they’re also going to show Gale’s same penchant for spells.” You agree, and at the mention of your son’s name he perks up and grins at you, proudly showing you the lock, “Speaking of which…”

You reach into your robe pocket and retrieve a small beaded necklace before patting your lap, and beckoning to your son, “Come here to me, my little love.”

Gale obliges happily, crawling over to settle in your lap. You kiss the crown of his head and then clasp the small necklace onto the toddler. Astarion is watching you curiously, his head tilts to the side as he brings his hand to grasp the necklace and examine it. The toddler sure does love that lock, he’s barely acknowledging either of you as you speak around him.

“It’s a dampener,” You explain, “I was telling Jaheira about the recent development. She gave me this. It won’t completely take away Gale’s powers… but it should help to reduce the strength of his spells until he learns to control them himself.”

Astarion nods with a relieved sigh, “Good. If I’m being honest, darling, I was worried he might accidentally hurt you.”

You nod knowingly and then groan as your stomach begins to growl. The appointment took a bit longer than you thought; it’s past your usual lunch time. You begin to stand, pulling the toddler in your arms with you as you say, “Now how about lunch in the sunroom? I’m starving.”

Astarion hums in agreement, “Go on, my love. I’ll grab the food and join you two in just a moment.”

You nod and carry Gale out, singing softly to the little boy as you head to the sunroom, leaving Astarion to gather his own thoughts for a moment.

The elf throws himself back on the bed with a groan, running his hand through his curls once again. Twins.

Twice the joy. Twice the work.

Astarion cannot help but to laugh, and then smile, even though he knows the next few years are going to be hectic. Perhaps more hectic than he’d imagined. Before long he’s rolling off the bed and headed to the kitchen, planning to prepare a platter of sandwiches and tea for himself and his two — four — little loves.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion reader insert #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #dadstarion fic #dadstarion

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margareth-lv · 4 months

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🥸 Conspiracy theories, hidden messages and the flat earth.🥸

Without conspiracy theories, where would we be in this fandom?

Simply put, if we didn't believe in conspiracy theories, we wouldn't be here.

Our conspiracy theory originated from an interview Sam and Caitríona gave to Kristin Dos Santos in January 2016.

If we didn't believe in conspiracy theories, we'd be rooting for Sam to obsessively seduce another blonde whose interests don't extend beyond the gym and parties.

If we believed in what we were told rather than what we saw, we would (virtually) wish Caitríona a happy wedding anniversary every 10th of August.

*** *** ***

But the conspiracy is not lurking in every corner.

On Friday evening, I posted a note here saying how much I enjoyed the sweet, meaningful message in an IG Story that Sam had just shared. The Elf on the Shelf, this year's advertiser for Sassenach Spirits, had an elf baby in her arms. *** *** *** What a strange coincidence for a childless bachelor in his 40s. A children's book hero in a spirits advert. A baby in the arms of the dark-haired hero of a children's Christmas story.

*** *** ***

I have looked at The Elf on the Shelf (which is not part of my cultural heritage). And well, it's a REALLY REAL children's book character. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

*** *** ***

The fact that Sassenach Spirits decided to use The Elf on the Shelf in this year's Christmas campaign is something I REALLY can't get out of my head.

🤯

*** *** ***

But let's skip my admiration. Let's focus on one of the comments below my Friday post.

Well, if anyone 'added the Elf', it was 'someone' in the advertising department of Sassenach Spirits. Maybe that person was inspired by 'someone else' (I'm sure), but let's leave that question aside.

I would like to stress that no data is manipulated on my blog. And no elves are 'added' to Sam's IG stories.

[December 18, 2023]

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Perfect Present

Okay crack drabble time. Christmas fuckery. Took inspiration from something and flipped it on its head because why not. That’s a warning in itself. This is short and stupid. Like me :)

“WE’RE DOING SECRET SANTA” Tony announced, already a little drunk, swaying slightly as he passed around a bowl while everyone sat in the living room “Also this time I added some extra people in there since we already did it so many times before”

“Fantastic” Nat snorted, seeing Tony’s name scribbled on her piece of paper. “I want to switch”

“No take backs" Tony rolled his eyes, while Bucky rummaged through the bowl, pulling one of the tiny crumples of paper. He hated secret Santa, mostly because he didn’t know what to get anyone and he hated shopping. Actually, he didn’t understand shopping. Especially during Christmas.

Why did people like crock pots so much.

What was the deal with kitchen aid mixers.

Who is this elf, why was he always on a shelf, what was his problem, why did he always stare at him (the elf lasted two days before it magically disappeared)

But as soon as he unfolded the paper and saw the name his eyes lit up. He knew exactly what to get, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. This was the perfect gift. He wouldn't even have to go shopping.

****

“Who’d you get Buck” You watched him curiously while he shuffled through wrapping paper, for some reason he actually looked excited this year.

“It’s a secret” He smiled to himself, pleased with his choice. He’d already packed the box, it just had to be wrapped and decorated. He wasn’t big on wrapping presents; you had offered to help which he immediately accepted. not at all because he had a crush on you, no sir

“This box weighs a ton, what the hell is in here?!” You grunted, trying to lift the box to get the paper around it. Bucky snorted, helping you while you looked at him with the utmost confusion.

“The perfect present”

****

“Rocket, there’s a package for you” Nebula eyed the colorful box curiously, a giant ribbon on top of it, dropping it at his feet. He tore the giant bright red ribbon open, ripping the paper off, tears immediately welling in his eyes, looking at the prettiest most prized possession he’d ever have. He picked it up with two furry little hands, it was magnificent.

“He remembered”

****

“You sent him your arm?!”

“It was just one of the prototypes, doesn’t do much damage” Bucky shrugged, highly pleased with himself while you stared at him in disbelief. You were both cuddled up on the couch along with the rest of the team while everyone opened gifts and munched on cookies.

“Bucky there's no such thing as less damage when there's a talking raccoon involved! Do you know where he smuggled Thor’s new eye? I’m pretty sure he hid it right up his a-”

“Ahem” Tony stood from behind you both, a thick bundle of mistletoe tied to a stick hanging above you both. Your face flushed, butterflies erupting in your belly.

“Shuri made like 10 of them, you can have one too doll” Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking up to the mistletoe that hung above you both.

“I’ll take one” Sam yelled, only to be smothered by Steve, intently watching you and his best friend, mere centimeters from kissing, just a little closer....

“I want this first” You whispered, leaning into him while he cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours making your insides melt. He smiled against your lips, his tongue gently tracing your lips, deepening the kiss. He blinked when Tony bonked him on the head with the mistletoe stick, snorting when you both pulled away.

“Okay, if you want to make baby super soldiers take it upstairs”

Tags:

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knithacker · 5 months

Text

Crochet a Jigsaw-Inspired Elf on the Shelf, Billy the Elf, For Christmas! 👉 https://buff.ly/3o6xBry

#crochet #handmade #diy #jigsaw #saw #amigurumi

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theresattrpgforthat · 4 months

Note

Hi there! I’m running a Christmas one-shot for a few mates of mine. I’ve told them to make DnD characters because it’s the system they are familiar with (I play a greater variety of systems then they do and I’m determined to infect them with indie ttrpgs eventually). Even though it’s DnD, I was wondering if you knew any cool Christmas related systems I could read up on and maybe borrow a rule or two from and graft in to make the one shot a bit more interesting?

So far I’m thinking either a standard “the magic is fading” plot line or an office comedy, both based in Santas workshop. If you can’t think of anything don’t worry, I’m going to have a look through my library either way and see what I can find.

Love this blog! ❤️

THEME: Christmas Games

Hello friend! This one-shot idea sounds so cool! Let's see what we've got to work with.

Oh Holy… What Happened Last Night? By OopsAllSmurph.

Santa’s out of town until the night of Christmas Eve, but he left you all, a group of his most trusted North Pole townsfolk, in charge of the North Pole until he got back. You did what anyone would do with a magical city at their fingertips -- throw a MASSIVE rager. After a little too much eggnog, you’ve all woken up with 2 problems: A massive hangover, and a North Pole in disrepair.

You’ve got until midnight tonight, Christmas Eve, to put the North Pole back to the way it was (or hide it well enough nobody will noticed) so Santa can leave for his trip around the world without a hitch!

This a simple one-page game that might work well as inspiration for your office comedy idea, perhaps if your characters have to help all the inhabitants of the North Pole get cleaned up before Santa comes back. You can roll randomly for lost and broken items, and add extra obstacles like find all the stray reindeer, put kids’ names back on the toys, and pay the Grinch his protection money!

Elf in Your Self, by StarshineScribbles.

The Elf: Fear it. Run from it. No matter what you do, You can't escape it.

Every Christmas, the Elf arrives out of nowhere. Sitting on your shelf. Leering at you. Trying to make you behave. Trying to enforce compliance with some half-remembered dogma about Naughty and Nice lists. Also, it might be possessed by a demon…

The only way to return peace to your home is to destroy it before it takes control of your mind.

Elf In Your Self is a game about a dark version of everyone's favorite surveillance-based Christmas decoration. Players will use a deck of cards to tell the story of their attempts to banish this evil force from their homes. But beware, one wrong move and you may become possessed by the Elf!

This feels like a game of collaborative go-fish but with a horror-movie twist. You are attempting to put together a ritual that will weaken the Elf in an attempt to get rid of it by the end of the game, but your players will become possessed by the Elf if they are forced to draw from more resources. I suppose you could use this as a mini-game inside a larger story about an Elf that has been causing havoc in Santa’s workshop, or perhaps use the idea of a big bad demon harassing a Christmas Town by possessing an innocent villager.

Christmas Goons, by hechlok.

The wizard Santiclous is looking for a mysterious artifact to light on the top of the Christmas tree - help him save the magic of Christmas!

Ruins, machines, lost gnomes, and Christmas presents await you. Let's get to it, Christmas Goons!

Christmas Goons is a short dungeon crawl that brings your characters through the ruins of a gnomish inventor’s home base. This adventure is designed for Tunnel Goons, but the dungeon map looks like it could be used for any game you like. There are details for each room, with suggested obstacles that you might be able to re-skin for the game of your choice. The adventure is also free!

Oh Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding, by Tim Obermueller.

Over seven nights, you are trying to defend your figgy pudding from increasingly hostile carolers. Good luck!

This is a tactical game of pudding defense, with increasing levels of difficulty as the carolers whittle away at your skills over seven nights. I could see this being some kind of possession or zombie storyline, with the carolers having a mindless fixation on the pudding, and your characters have to spend seven nights/rounds of combat fending them off with different tactics.

A Christmas Belonging, by dannymakesrpgs.

A Christmas Belonging gives you snow covered landscapes, quaint small towns, and the low stakes high drama experience of a made-for-TV Christmas movie. Recreate those cheerful stories of romance and family drama in this collaborative, zero-prep RPG.

This is a diceless game about someone who prioritizes work over family, coming from the big city into a small Christmas town, where they meet someone who changes their outlook on Christmas - and on life. Extremely trophy, extremely cheesy, and great for folks who love taking a genre and pushing it as far as it can go.

I’m not entirely sure how to incorporate this into a traditional D&D game, but perhaps it might be a subplot that goes on in the background; perhaps an adventurer who is here just for treasure meets a cute local who wants them to slow down and experience the meaningful magic of a local holiday. Perhaps this cute local’s magic ritual is exactly what is needed to solve the adventurer’s problem!

You Will Be Haunted by Three Spirits, by Meghan Cross.

You Will be Haunted by Three Spirits is a GMless game for three players about changing the heart of someone who desperately needs it. Each player will take on the role of a spirit as well as collaboratively taking on the role of the individual being haunted by the spirits.

It is roleplay heavy, GMless game that is played in three rounds as each of the spirits reaches out to the Haunted in an attempt to soften their heart and convince them to change their ways. All that is needed for play is this game text and a set of dice. Players will each take on the role of one of the visiting spirits as well as collaboratively playing the role of the Haunted as they are visited by the spirits attempting to save their soul and change their heart.

This is probably my favourite holiday trope. It is probably the most heartfelt game on this list, and the least likely to travel into goofy territory. The biggest obstacle to using this game its that it requires three players only if you play as written - one to be the Past, one to be the Present, and on to be the Spirit of What Is To Come.

However, if you want to use it as inspiration, you might set up the party with the job of convincing their Haunted to change their ways so that the magic of Christmas is returned before it is too late. You could have some characters taking on the embodiment of different Spirits, while others work to bring about the miraculous events of the past, present and future. If you want to embody some of the magic and warmth of Christmas, this might be the game for you.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg

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moominofthevalley · 5 months

Text

The Girl with the Glass

Trystan finds a mysterious scrapbook. Emily has a deep conversation with a stranger.

Characters: Trystan Thorne x Emily Rose

WC: 2.5k

Rating: Teen | CW: Mentions of Grief

CFWC Prompt Used: ‘Visiting a Holiday Market’ & ‘The holidays won’t be the same now that they’re gone’

A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone! This drabble is inspired by an influx of things – mostly my favorite film, “Amélie,” if you couldn’t tell by the title. (Which, of course, is not-so-subtle-symbolism). Enjoy!

“It’s your turn, Trystan!”

Snow sprinkled downwards, little husks of angels drooping to the wintry ground. Crowds of faces walked the busy New York streets, surrounded by shiny knickknacks and dusty clothes. Cheeks were stained pink, and lips curled upwards in the holiday spirit. Trystan urged out a cocky grin, arms around Emily’s waist.

“Is it, now?”

“Yes, it is! I’ll go and get something for us to eat.”

Trystan pecked her forehead, whispering, “Do something good!” before disappearing into the crowd. He grew fond of these new habits of love, searching for a trinket to take back to their hearth.

It was a silly tradition, but a tradition nonetheless. It began with a scratched Pierrot figurine Emily bought from a vintage shop. Ivory skin and porcelain eyes, and a black-and-white costume with a frilled collar. Like some haunted elf on the shelf, the clown explored the apartment all by itself – according to Trystan, at least. The second well-loved piece was a gift from Marguerite: a brass ladybug ashtray. Neither Emily nor Trystan smoked, though the aureate bug was far too interesting to be thrown away. The most recent find was a print of Renoir’s The Luncheon of the Boating Party Emily purchased from a local art gallery. Both of them adored it; the celebration of warmth and good company, the splendid wines and fruits, calmness in beauty in the mundane. Drinks and company aside, Emily was far more fascinated with the girl with the glass. A sullen woman drinking wine in a sea of chatting strangers.

It was Trystan’s turn, and he was keen on finding an old book of sorts. He insisted on a leather novel of yellowed papers and annotated lines, with intricate Victorian details along the spine. Trystan paused, exhilarated at the antique booth before him. Forgotten scrapbooks, noir polaroids, rotten thrown-away cameras, and fringed lamps cornered him with an enticement to explore.

Emily wandered around the opposite side of the market, searching for nearby food vendors. A strange harmony bubbled inside her; a soft scent, a beam from the clouded sun. She breathed in the scent of chestnuts and red wine, a wintry chill slipping through her bones. Silver bells danced in the December wind, faces greeting each other with a blissful smile. It was a perfect moment, a painting from her own eyes.

On the sidewalk stood a white-haired woman in a vibrant Christmas sweater, her cane tapping the frozen ground. Breaths escaped her parted lips in subtle clouds of white. Trystan’s words repeated in Emily’s head, a determination settling within her. This was peace and contentment; the mundanity of a random December afternoon.

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need help?”

“Yes, please!”

“Careful of the curb, here we go!”

The woman held onto the cane, her other hand wrapped around Emily’s. Her heart burst at the scene developing around her. Laughs and joyous days echoed around her, the wind so sweet she gulped for more.

“Hear that? That’s a florist laughing, he has crinkly eyes! A booth that smells like eucalyptus and rose is selling crystals and botanical postcards. The food truck across them is selling lollipops and hot cocoa for children. A farmer’s booth has rows of persimmons, oranges, and tangerines. Next to the fruits, a baby is watching her dad throw his hat in the air. We’re at the end of the market, there’s a bookstore and a vinyl shop in front of us. I’ll leave you here, goodbye!”

The elderly woman struck out a pleased laugh, touched by moments folding around her. Memories of today fell like dominoes, scattering about like new snow. Her cheeks shined pink as Emily cradled her hand, stilling the woman’s trembling fingers.

“Have a good day,” She whispered before walking off.

“Wait,” The woman called out, “Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat!” * * * *

Emily and the white-haired woman split an orange and two empanadas on a quiet bench. Emily, of course, contently peeled the oranges in thirds, ignoring the pith underneath her nails.

Familiarity struck her as she handed the woman an orange. Her father’s willow-leaved eyes resembled the stranger’s. Perhaps in another life, Jimmy Rose grew old and never walked the wistful grounds of Box Thirty-Two. To breathe with wrinkled skin and grey hairs, lines creasing about his lips and forehead.

“What’s your name?”

“Diana.”

“I’m Emily,” she hid the third orange wedge in her coat pocket, “Do you like the food?”

“I love it,” Diana grinned, “God, that vendor was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

Emily gulped, taken aback, “How could you tell?”

The other woman laughed and patted her lap, “Partial blindness. I can only see things if I’m up close.”

“Oh!” Emily blushed awkwardly, “I’m sorry – I didn’t-”

“Don’t worry.”

“But, er, yes, the vendor was beautiful.”

Diana perked up, casting an amused grin, “Are you a lesbian?”

“Bisexual. And my boyfriend wanted to check this market out. He’s looking for…I dunno, some silly trinket to take home, and I told him I’d get us some food. Are you…also…?”

Diana nodded.

“How old are you?”

“Sixty-eight. And you?”

“Twenty-eight,” Diana winced.

“Don’t worry, it does get better.”

Emily shrugged, unconvinced. Her bones were brittle as if made of glass, jaded memories of Drakovia hitting her like violent waves against a sandy beach. Grief thrashed inside her head so intensely she’d wake up in the night, begging for air. There was avoiding it, no going under or over it. Whether she’d acknowledge it or not, trauma and grief permeated her life.

“When?” Emily asked innocently, her eyes burning. Diana scooted slightly closer, resting her wrinkled hand over Emily’s.

“When does it get better?” Emily nodded, cringing at her childish question, “However long it takes. Eventually…it’ll pass.”

It had been sixteen years. Sixteen lonely years, and it had, indeed, not passed. She swore that she’d be done with everything by twenty. That foolish promise broke, and twenty-eight was no different than twenty. All that was left of Jimmy Rose’s legacy was a cruel memory.

“It’s been almost twenty years. I don’t think it will.”

Emily gritted her teeth ruefully, furrowing her fingers into her hands until they became beet red. With a blink of an eye, she was no longer the famed private detective who took down the Heartache Killer; but a tall child with no father.

“Oh, Emily,” Diana cooed, “I’m so sorry. But that’s simply not true,” She murmured, struggling to find the right words, “Nothing lasts forever. Things pass, lives go on, and it feels fucking awful when you’re…stuck. But when we are stuck, all we have is each other. To get by, at least.”

Emily’s walls began crumbling. Her hands instinctively covered her face, sheltering herself from the world. Diana granted her some space, moving closer to the other end of the bench.

“I’m sorry,” Emily rubbed her face, grasping at anything to change the subject. With a pained sigh, she uttered, “Y’know, I don’t really like Christmas. I just–I’m just here because of a stupid tradition.”

“I don’t either,” Diana said, “But my wife loved it. Every year, God bless her soul, she’d always cook the worst beef wellington ever!” Diana with a familiar gleefulness, “I’d always eat it. I mean, it was atrocious and entirely raw, but she cooked it. Made with love…and absolutely no seasoning. I would do anything to have it this year.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emily whispered, “Her wellington must’ve made your day. My dad took me to Rockefeller Square every year until he passed. I always thought he was a king for that,” She chuckled, “I remember seeing it for the first time. I didn’t even know trees got that big.”

“He sounds like an amazing Dad. I’m so sorry he was lost to you.”

“Thank you. I try to remember the good things about him. It helps keep his spirit alive.”

Inklets of snow trailed down and stained their hair, solemness in the wind. Emily cleared her throat, pushing past the silence.

“Can you tell me more about your wife?”

“Of course,” Diana beamed, “Her name was Dani. She lived in the apartment next to mine. She was an amazing pianist. I’d always hear her playing through the walls. One day, I knocked on her door and asked if I could listen to her.”

“Do you remember what song she played?”

“Yes! It was, hm, ‘Camptine?’ No – ‘Comptine d’un autre été.’ You really should listen to it sometime.”

“I’ll hold you to that…how long were you two together?”

“Twenty years and ninety-eight days – but who’s counting? We were completely different and so unlike,” Diana’s face grew serious, “And she was so different in the end, too. It’s odd to see someone die when they’re already gone and so, so small.”

Emily fiddled with her hands, jaws clenched, “I’m so sorry, Diana. I can’t imagine losing–” She choked on a small pit in her throat, “I just can’t imagine a loss like that.”

“Thank you. The two of us had an amazing life. We really, really did. I mean – sometimes I still see her, even in little things, I still feel her with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I see her everywhere,” Diana’s lips quivered, “I see her when it rains, and I think of the song she played for me when we first met. I saw La Traviata last summer, and all I thought about was her. Whenever I walk by a deli, I think of her God-awful beef wellington and cry.”

A glint of doubt shimmered in Emily’s eye. Uncertainty twisted her insides, striking with fierce ripples of despair and mourning.

“Listen to me,” Diana said sternly, “One day at a time is all we got. So go on and live. But, when the time does come…kiss his forehead, rub his feet, and play a song that reminds you of him. It will be hard, and I don’t think it will ever go away completely. But I promise – after some time, you’ll wake up and feel, maybe not better, but as if you’ve adjusted to the pain of it all. And then it won’t hurt so much.”

A surge of preemptive grief washed over Emily, though tears never flooded her eyes. The burdens of the past and deaths of the future weren’t gone, but instead quiet and still in her mind. Death is only a moment, a bitter soul slipping into the next room. Two words repeated in Emily’s head until she was content.

“Thank you. I never thought of it that way…thank you.”

Easy silence lay upon them, the words shared by each other warm in their throats. Flurries of unknown faces passed by, snowflakes tangling in their hair with ease. Spotting Trystan in the crowd of strangers, Emily greeted the mischievous smirk on his face, hands tucked behind his back.

“Hey partner,” Trystan kissed the top of Emily’s head, “And who’s this?”

“I’m Diana…and you must be the boyfriend Emily was telling me about!”

“Oh, yeah? What’d she tell you?”

“Your deepest and darkest secrets, obviously,” Emily deadpanned, “...You hiding something back there?”

With a smug grin, Trystan unveiled a wrapped gift. He chuckled, “You’ll see! I’ll show you later.”

“Hey, I also got you something!” Emily grabbed the orange slice from her pocket, wiping away tiny beads of lint. Trystan’s face lit up, mouth agape.

“I love you. Thank you,” Trystan pecked her forehead once more before biting into the citrus, “And it was lovely meeting you, Diana. I hope Emily didn’t tell you every secret of mine.” Diana laughed, shaking his hand.

“Of course not. And Emily?” She whispered into her ear, “Remember what you’re here for.”

* * * *

“Do I seriously need to be blindfolded for this?”

“I mean,” He pressed his hands tight against Emily’s covered eyes, “Yeah, you do.”

Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes through the thick wad of fabric tied around her head. A week had passed since she met Diana, and all that was in her mind were her tender words. Emily fixed her pout, forcing a tooth-shining smirk as Trystan led her across the apartment.

“The things I do for you.”

“Careful, darling,” Trystan gently moved her away from hitting the coffee table, “And sit…err, right here!”

“Can I take the blindfold off now?”

“Not yet!”

Sounds of scuffling surrounded her, and Emily grew curious. Trystan had been hiding something since the trip to the market. Whenever she’d mentioned it, he’d waggle a finger to his lips and utter gibberish.

Emily scoffed, amused, “Is this about that thing you got last week?” Trystan snickered with a childlike excitement.

“...Maybe.”

The tussling stopped, and Trystan sat beside her. Resting a hand on her thigh, he grinned, “Okay! You can take it off now.”

“Oh…my God!”

A leatherbound scrapbook and a dainty film camera plastered with Hello Kitty stickers sat across them. Colorful children’s doodles scuffed the book cover, crayons covering every inch. Squiggly letters in blue and red revealed the title: RoSe fAmilY aDveNtureS. Emily gasped, flooded with faint memories of her father. With flushed cheeks, she turned to Trystan and gawked.

“Trystan!” Emily squealed, “You found this last week?”

“Mhm,” He bobbed his head, “I showed it to Tommy to make sure. He said he must’ve accidentally donated it while cleaning up the attic. It…may or may not have taken me a long time to figure out how to use the camera – but it works! I’ll hook it up to the TV, okay?”

“I fucking love you.”

Emily and Trystan flipped page after page, soaking in long-forgotten moments of Emily’s past. At the top of each page contained a laminated label. Little Emily as San, Halloween 2002. Trip to Luzon, June 2005. Fluffernutters and Chocolate Rocks!

Stacks of polaroids were taped against each other, smiles and blissful memories in every photo. One quickly seized Trystan’s attention. ‘2001’ was written at the hem of the photo. At the center, a pigtailed Emily smiled widely at the camera, boasting her half-eaten yan yan.

“God,” Emily grazed her thumb over the polaroid, “I can’t believe you found this.”

“Me too. Maybe we can look through Tommy’s attic sometime. There has to be other scrapbooks we can find.”

“Can we look through the camera now?”

“Of course, dear.”

Emily grinned at Trystan, warmed by his gift. It’d been years since her heart grew so fondly, a quiet ease running through her body. Her bones were, indeed, not made of glass. She was not brittle and weak, but rather brimming with love and sentiment. Pain and sorrow were in her veins, too, yet on this still and snowy morning, Emily was at peace.

* * * * A/N: This fic was both such a pain and so nice to write lol. I wanted to give a little thank you to @jerzwriter @lexicook74-blog and @logolepzy for helping me edit this fic! Thank you all so much for your feedback, I appreciate you all SO much.

Tags: @choicesprompts @choicesholidays @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @mooserii @starsarewithinme @jonathanmoores @shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @icarusfallsforever @kyra75 @calisomnia (let me know if else would like to be added to my crimes tag!)

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delta-lethonomia · 29 days

Note

For the Tav asks, 3 (if it’s not too spoilery), 24, 28 🖤

#3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

Hmm that's a good question! "The Pale Elf", "Daughter of Darkness", etc, they don't really reveal that much about their respective quest lines, so in that spirit, maybe..."Witch of the Woods"? My initial inspiration for Tav while playing was Morrigan from Dragon Age: Origins, so the witchy vibe is an integral part of my mental picture of her.

#24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw?

LOL exactly no one will agree with her on this one, but Tav would say her unwillingness to harm her loved ones or prevent them from making bad decisions. Note these aren't really flaws nor the ones she should be focusing on, but then again, can anyone really have a truly objective view of themselves? ;)

#28. Describe a smell that reminds your Tav of childhood.

Manure LOL. As anyone who grew up near farmland knows, there's a week or two throughout the year where everything gets fertilized, and it smells utterly awful. It's unforgettable. I headcanon Rivington as being surrounded by farmland, so the scent would carry.

Beyond that, the dusty, somewhat musty smell of the stockroom/basement of Sharess' Caress, spilled wine, and the more specifically, the scent of expired lubricant and somewhat rancid oil. When Tav started working as a provider of potions etc for the brothel, I like to think she spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make a shelf-stable lubricant that a.) couldn't also be used for cooking, and b.) didn't smell like her mom.

#tav asks #ask delta #wrong reasons fic

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birdstooth · 1 year

Text

APRIL FIC RECS ft. doodles

30 img limit hurting me a lot... so I had to cut images from literally every selection 🥺 so if you want to see the full assortment of doodles click the links! (* = more pics in story link)

Alphabetical by author :) (sorry ppl at the end of the alphabet I had to edit more of the pics near the end bc I’m bad at organization 😭 next time I’ll be better do reverse alphabetical lmaoo )

Also I can’t guarantee the doodle comics are accurate to the plot FYI… It’s just what comes out of my brain 🙈

@alwayssunnyinedensgate

Angel of Music/POTO AU

doodles from chap 2*, 7 & 9*

Blessed Be the Fruit/Handmaid's Tale AU

doodles from chap 1 *, 5, & 8 (+ more CURSED IMAGERY*)

Check Out Any Time You Like/Hotel Cortez (AHS) AU

doodles from chap 2

The Second Mrs. Rogers/Rebecca AU

doodles from chap 5, 7, & 9

(I had to take chap 7 doodles out bc dmg limit but it was Elle Woods inspired lol see them HERE)

Thrill of the Kill

doodles from chap 1* & 2* (& 2 again* bc I'm bad at keeping track of things lol)

Be Thee Wolf of Sheep/Far Cry 5 AU

doodles from chap 1, 2*, 3*, 13* & BONUS LORE ;) *

@buckymorelikefuckme

arOOOOOga* (click for +3 more doodles)

no shelf control* (click for full doodle comic)

@imyourbratzdoll

a bunny and elf special* (click for full doodle comic)

jennifer check x fem! pillow princess reader* (click for doodle!)

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor

God Mode* (click for full doodle comic)

Hue and Cry - part XXII

Who's the Boss - part 18* (click for +2 additional comic panels) & 22

@georgiapeach30513

Stained Like Georgia Clay - pt 16

@navybrat817

Two Sides of the Same Coin*(full doodle in link haha)

Prelude to A Kiss (click for doodle!)

@straywords

Y.O.U.

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes - pt 7

#Bucky barnes fanart #poto fanart #Steve Rogers fanart #Lloyd hansen fanart #fic recs #personally curated fic recs #fic art #fic rec masterlist #April fic recs #comics and doodles #IF IT’s UNDER A CUT WHY CANT WE PUT 999999 imgs tho

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n4talia-chaparro · 11 months

Note

Another question about the Krupp dummy: Does it haunt Krupp? Or is it like the Elf On A Shelf and just appears wherever?

Either one would be entertaining honestly

🫀|| ꒷꒦︶🧠︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶🧠︶꒷꒦ ||🫀

Oh boy...speaking of it I kinda made some little fact about the dummy I guess..soo...uhhhh...

TW/TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of murder, etc cuz idfk what else to put.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

Well, it doesn't haunt Krupp anymore like it used to, because of that Krupp is the owner of his dummy. Even tho I'm not sure if Melvinborg was the one who brought it or Krupp himself.

However, the Krupp dummy moves and talks by itself as I said. Not only it would appear everywhere like an "Elf on a shelf" thing. He or it can attack the leaving hell out of someone and jumpscare the victim WHOEVER TOUCHES THE DUMMY WITHOUT PERMISSION.

and speaking of moving and stuff, its eyes can glow through the dark; you see remember when I said Krupp upgraded it and made it idk. Little different I think? Yeah, this is what I meant by this. Its eyes can glow brighter to see and detect ANYTHING.

Krupp's idea was to upgrade his dummy and change him a bit so he doesn't have to carry it all the time. And do you wanna know what's more cringy and disturbing? Him or it being a monitor inside of a dummy...

Yeah you see Krupp knows how to make inventions and things so he decided to build a mini robo-animatronic and try to insert that inside of the dummy but then he realized why does it need mental and robotic parts when he can also place organs inside to make it feel REAL. Yeeaahh....to make a long story short he killed a student for the first time....(and keep in mind it was one of Mr. Rected's students), Krupp wasn't sure where to hide the body until he decided to grab the victim's organs and connect them inside the dummy. Making sure that each organ is glued or connected properly and waited until it stops having a gross smell. Later on, he then used the electricity to give it energy (obviously it has the robot inside of it.) And stitched some parts of it. Fuck

🦷|| ꒷꒦︶🫁︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶🫁︶꒷꒦ ||🦷

🫁|| ꒷꒦︶🦴︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶🦴︶꒷꒦ ||🫁

•| The dummy was also used to supervise Melvin, just like a nanny cam except it has to spy on Melvin and see what he's doing and it can ALSO record anything (conversation, audio, etc). Because if Melvin does something fish behind his dad figure (Krupp), or sneaks things without his permission the dummy will make use to catch the kid in the act.

[AND FEW LITTLE POINTS ABOUT IT]

* It was originally used to torment Melvin if he keeps ignoring his demands. After few months he then decided to give it to Melvin so he doesn't feel lonely whenever Krupp goes to find his other victims. The dummy slowly became Melvin's comforting dummy cuz all the dummy does is talk randomly by itself and moves. [SPECIALLY BECAUSE THE DUMMY LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE KRUPP/ABUSIVE FATHER FIGURE]. Melvin would also take him everywhere in his backpack, doing a playdate with it and venting to it, not knowing it can record a personal vent and possibly the man himself is listening to it.🗿

* This little fella knows how to walk. No joke...it DOES. All thanks to the electricity he kinda started to learn new things (?)

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

•| It's eyes can change from green to red. The red is supposed to represent the warning sign to the person who tries to carry it or get closer to it. If the victim tries to pick it up, the dummy will likely bite them and rip the skin off with its teeth. Mostly strangling them with a lasso or jumpscaring them. (Who knows seriously)

•| The dummy MUST ALWAYS be inside of its own box or somewhere hidden to not let it escape from its place. It would sneak out and sit somewhere like it does.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

[Took inspiration from the "Tattle Turtle 200", child's plays, maybe some silly-ass abandoned animatronic as a reference to convince that together. Pls don't play the fnaf theme I'm begging you-]

So uhh yeah...hopefully I don't scare no one in here cuz half of the info was supposed to describe how sick gp!Krupp can be in this AU- yikes..😬

#captain underpants #the epic tales of captain underpants #captain underpants au #cu tbgdotgp au #gp!krupp #benjamin krupp #melvin sneedly #tw organs #tw mention of killing #tw death #answered asks #au ask blog #asks #cu au #asked and answered #answered questions

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spacesquidlings · 4 months

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Elf Hysteria

Description: Hoping to start a new holiday tradition, Gavin and Rowan introduce an elf on the shelf to their children, to very mixed results. While some of the children are delighted by the doll, many of them (including Gavin) find themselves unnerved by their new guest from the North Pole.

Pairing: Gavin Bai x OC/MC (Rowan)

Warnings: Elf on a shelf

A/N: Not to be super weird on main but this is inspired by my 3 elves on shelves. I would be lying if I said I hadn't brought them into work to terrorize my coworkers (in good fun!!!) on occasion. All in good fun, no shelf elves were harmed in the making of this fic, happy holidays <3 (I also feel like it would be good to indicate that there are officially 5 baby Bai's, in order from oldest to youngest: Aurora, Wisteria, Cordelia and Gardenia (twins), Sorrel. Also featuring the Bai doggie, Stella <3)

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Wisteria eyed Aurora’s latest playmate with suspicion. Gavin would have found it funny if he hadn’t been unnerved by it too, by the eerie smiling face and the way its eyes seemed to follow him as he crossed a room.

Aurora, however, seemed completely unfazed by the tiny toy elf she had currently seated at the little table she used for her tea parties. It was supposed to be an elf on a shelf, and Rowan had brought it home just before the holiday season giggling about trying it out.

But only moments after explaining who the elf was when the kids had first seen it the morning after she’d hidden it, Wisteria had broken out into hysterics, all while Aurora had crawled onto the counter the elf was balanced on, clutching it to her chest.

“I’m going to give him some tea!” She had sung, jumping down with an expertness that had made Gavin suspicious that it hadn’t been the first time she’d crawled onto the counter.

Which would maybe explain why they were always running out of cookies so quickly, even when they were stashed in the cookie jar on the counter, supposedly out of reach of all of the girls.

After that, the rest had been history. Every night Aurora would tuck the elf into a doll bed in her princess castle dollhouse, and every morning she would search out the elf and bring it down from wherever it was perched that day to play with it and offer it tea and whatever treats he and Rowan had tried making that day.

Today she was setting a little plate with a palm sized nanaimo bar before the elf, chattering about the movies they’d played in her class that day. She even poured the elf a little cup of tea from her child-sized tea set, the hot water and tea Gavin had prepared for Aurora early steaming as it splashed into the little china cup before the elf.

Wisteria, however, was less than impressed with Aurora’s new playmate. She scowled, curling up behind Gavin like a feral cat, her eyes wide as they fixed on the elf.

“I don’t like him,” she grumbled.

Gavin ruffled her hair, unable to disagree. “He’s a little strange, isn’t he, baked potato?”

Wisteria threw herself backwards, arms splaying across the ground. “It’s like his eyes follow me. And he’s mean!”

Gavin arched a brow, turning fully toward Wisteria. “Oh? How is he mean?”

She pouted. “He gets to play pranks, but I can’t!”

Ah. Gavin grimaced, remembering when he and Rowan had awoken to half the house wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, tags attached to everything marked with “from your elf.”

It had been Shaw, although neither Gavin or Rowan were able to say that. They’d given him a key to their house, meant to be used when he was babysitting the kids or helping when they were still newborns, and he had used it to slip inside in the middle of the night after hearing about the elf from Wisteria.

Which meant now, of course, they had to keep up appearances, performing minor pranks around the house whenever any of the girls misbehaved.

Which was utterly devastating to Wisteria, who seemed to despise the elf the most.

“I wanna do a prank,” Wisteria whispered, although her eyes darted towards the elf, currently being served another nanaimo bar. “But not with him.”

Gavin chuckled, scooping Wisteria into his arms. “Why don’t we go watch a movie, instead?”

“Can I have a cookie?”

He bounced her in his arms as he made his way towards the kitchen. “As long as I’m allowed one, too!”

He set her on the counter in the kitchen before reaching for the cookie jar, hoping there were still a few sugar cookies left from a few days ago.

He did not get a chance to find out, not right away at least, as Cordelia sprinted into the kitchen, wielding a foam sword.

“Hiya!” She shrieked, slashing it towards Gavin’s legs.

He was more taken aback than he was hurt, and he stepped back, eying her warily as she continued to smack the sword against his leg.

“What are you doing?” He asked, snorting as she let out another battle cry, whacking his knee.

“I’m starting a fight!” She cried.

He chuckled, crossing his arms. “And why are you doing that?”

“If the elf sees, I’ll get coal!” Cordelia sang. “And I want more rocks!”

Gavin’s brows shot up, right as Wisteria screamed like she’d been stabbed. He spun around, heart in his throat, arms thrown out to grab her in case she was falling or she’d hurt herself or was bleeding.

But Wisteria sat on the counter, perfectly healthy and safe, but she was kicking her legs out as she continued to scream, her amber eyes wild.

“No!” She shook her head furiously, her headband tossed from her head. “You can’t! The elf will see!”

Cordelia gave her a gap-tooth grin, whacking Gavin once more. “But I want it to!”

“Cordelia Sage!”

Cordelia gasped, her eyes going wide.

“Oh no,” she said, her voice a hushed whisper. “Mama.”

She bolted before Gavin could ask why she would be trying to hide from Rowan, her footsteps growing muffled as she vanished down the hall.

Wisteria had stopped screaming, although her bottom lip still trembled and fat tears were streaking down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, baked potato,” Gavin cooed, scooping her back up and tucking her beneath his chin. “It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re okay.”

She sniffled, burying her face against his chest. “I don’t want the elf to tell Santa!”

He bounced her gently, rubbing her back. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be on the naughty list.”

Gavin bit back a smile, knowing he couldn’t laugh, certainly not when Wisteria was so upset. But it was a little funny, as she continued to whine, if she thought this alone would doom them all to a lifetime on the naughty list.

That in comparison to the number of times Wisteria had tried pranking them, scaring them, and hiding from them when it was bath time, Cordelia’s little outburst was beyond benign. Didn’t even rank on the naughty scale.

But he wouldn’t tell Wisteria that, instead choosing to hum gently, hoping it would soothe her.

Rowan poked her head into the kitchen a few moments later, as Wisteria’s tears turned to stray sniffles, her face pinched with annoyance, the remains of a butterscotch pudding cup smeared on the sleeve of her shirt, the pudding cup in question crushed in her hand.

Her expression softened as soon as she saw Wisteria weeping, and she rushed to Gavin’s side, chucking the pudding cup into the sink so she could draw Wisteria into her arms.

“Oh my love, what happened?” She asked, smoothing back Wisteria’s hair, not caring about the pudding on her shirt.

“Cordelia was being naughty,” Wisteria blubbered. “On purpose!”

Rowan’s brows shut up, and her gaze was sharp as it found Gavin’s. “She’s been doing that all day, it seems.”

He winced, reaching out to cup Rowan’s cheek, noting the dark bags clinging to her face, the chunks of hair falling from her hasty ponytail, and other splatterings of food over her shirt.

“What’s happened?” He asked, wanting to draw her against his chest, wanting to rub her back and hold her while she slept away the exhaustion weighing her down.

She’d been baking like crazy lately, for holiday bake-sales at the girls’ schools, and for Christmas at home. And she’d been trying to decorate the house all week, and find the girls new outfits for Christmas, and he knew she was running around still trying to find the one toy Gardenia had been begging them for all year.

Rowan gave him a wry smile, light sparking in her eyes. “Well, I was opening a pudding cup for Gardenia when Cordelia snuck up on me.” she sighed, tipping her head towards the pudding staining her shirt. “She smacked me with her sword and it spilled. And then she tried throwing her strawberries and raspberries at me.”

Another sigh, Rowan dropping her head so it fell against Wisteria’s. “Oh I just want to take a nap.”

Wisteria gasped, pulling away. “No nap, mama! I wanna play!”

“A nap for me, not for you!” Rowan laughed, wiping Wisteria’s cheeks. “But are you feeling a little better, baked potato?”

Wisteria nodded, although her expression remained solemn. It was so out of place on Wisteria’s face that Gavin had to resist the urge to try tickling her or acting goofy to cheer her up. His Wisteria was mischievous and loud, but she was rarely ever solemn.

“What were you and papa up to?” Rowan asked, balancing Wisteria against her hip. “Were you getting some treats?”

Another serious nod. Gavin pointed to the cookie jar, offering a small smile. “We were looking for some cookies.”

“Well,” Rowan said, her smile like the morning sun, washing away the shadows of his worries. Everything would be okay as long as she smiled, as long as she was here with him.

“Would you like to see a surprise?”

Wisteria cocked her head to the side, some of the light returning to her eyes, and Gavin nearly sighed in relief. She wasn’t one to remain serious for long, and it was nearly as unnerving as the elf that had caused this whole fiasco.

Rowan walked towards the fridge, throwing open the door to reveal a tray of freshly made blondies stuffed with oreo bits and crushed m&ms and chocolate chips.

“I was hiding these to have for dessert tonight, but I think you both deserve one for the ordeal you’ve gone through.”

Wisteria’s cheeks turned pink, and she beamed up at Rowan, her eyes bright as starlight. “Thank you, mama!”

Rowan set Wisteria down so she could take the tray from the fridge and set it on the counter to cut out the squares. She cut Wisteria’s first, wrapping it in a napkin before handing it to her with a kiss on the top of her head.

“There you go, my little love,” Rowan murmured, and Gavin’s heart melted a little, like chocolate and marshmallows warming on the stove. Afternoon sunshine was spilling in from the windows in the kitchen, washing over Rowan in a wave of gold. It lined her gentle smile, made her eyes glow. She was set alight, like a goddess in a priceless painting.

She straightened, seeming unaware of the way Gavin’s heart stumbled, his breath catching in his throat as she undid her ponytail, combing her hair back with her fingers as she smiled down at Wisteria, patting her head as she sent her to watch a movie with Gardenia.

“Babey?”

Gavin blinked, the world hazy, seeming to melt away as she watched him, barely a foot away.

She smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you okay? Your face is all red.”

He blinked again, trying to shake himself from his stupor. It had been so many years and yet somehow looking at her he was enchanted all over again, like a spell was taking hold on his heart.

“I’m alright,” he said at last, feeling a little breathless although he had not been running. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder. He knew she would get it cut soon, she never usually let it get this long, especially not when their youngest, Sorrel, was becoming so fond of yanking on anything he could get his little hands on.

“That you look beautiful,” he said, so soft it could have been a snowflake flitting in the air, melting as it fell against her cheek.

But Rowan blushed, ducking her head as she quickly spun around to focus on the tray. “Are you trying to get a larger piece? Because bribery won’t work.”

He closed the distance between them in barely a stride, wrapping his arms around her waist and nestling his chin on her shoulder.

“No,” he breathed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I’m just admiring my wife. Thinking about how lucky I am.”

She sighed, leaning into his embrace. “I love you.”

He brushed a kiss to her cheek. “And I love you.”

“So you’re really not trying to bribe me for a bigger piece?”

He chuckled, opening his eyes to peer down at the tray. “I mean, I’m not opposed to one, but that’s not my intention.”

Rowan sagged a little, hands falling on top of Gavin’s. “I’m so tired, babey. I feel like I’m falling apart. I don’t know how you can say such sweet things.”

“I would never lie to you,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her. “And I think you’re the most wonderful, beautiful person in the world.”

“I have pudding and berry stains all over my shirt.”

“And?”

She laughed at that, throwing her head back, shoulders shaking. It made Gavin smile, made his heart swell. He’d made her happy, he’d brought her even the tiniest sliver of joy.

“Why don’t you rest a little?” He asked, stroking her side. “Take a bath and lie down.”

“I can’t,” she groaned. “There’s so much to do. I still need to wrap some gifts, and I need to take some cards to the post office, and the twins’ preschool is having a theme week next week so I have to hunt down costumes for them, and-”

“Hey,” he cut her off gently, turning her in his arms to face him. “I am perfectly capable of handling those things. My request for additional time off for the holidays got approved.”

Her eyes lit up at that, like twin stars exploding to life in the night sky. “It did?”

He nodded, joy dancing in his heart like sunshine. He’d made her smile again, given her another piece of happiness.

“I’m off for the next few weeks. Which means I am more than capable of taking on the holiday errands while you rest.”

Her shoulders slumped. “But I-”

He shook his head. “No buts, pumpkin. You don’t need to be doing everything. Besides,” he winced at the sound of something slamming to the ground upstairs, followed by shrieks from Cordelia and Aurora. “If anyone deserves a break right now, it’s you.”

“What if the kids-”

He pressed his lips to hers, quieting her retorts. “I’ll make sure they leave you alone for a while. And anyways, you’re going to need your rest if we’re going to deal with-” He winced again as another thud sounded from upstairs, followed by a high pitched wail as the chaos woke Sorrel from his nap. “With the elf situation.”

Now Rowan winced too, her nose wrinkling as Cordelia sprinted down the stairs, shrieking her battle cries. “I think you might be right

***

With weeks of time off stretching before him, Gavin was able to ease the holiday stresses considerably. At least, he thought he might have been, if Rowan’s fading exhaustion and her warm smiles were anything to go by.

He’d gotten most of the decorations up outside the house while Rowan had taken the inside. He’d gone shopping for all of the holiday supplies they’d needed, from extra sugar and flour to new rolls of wrapping paper and stamps, at least two of the girls in tow. He took Aurora to her dance classes and Wisteria to her art classes. He did his best to get as many of the girls dressed in the morning before Rowan awoke. He made Christmas themed breakfasts and made sure to have the girls’ snacks tucked away in the fridge for later, and an extra few snacks ready for Rowan, too.

A little like the lunches she made for him for work, although he had yet to master making little sandwiches and bowls of fruit as cute as she did.

He was, however, getting better at icing cookies and frosting cupcakes.

Rowan would choose a treat to bake each day, and while she baked Gavin would clean up the kitchen, wiping down counters and washing bowls and spoons and whisks. And once the treats were cooled she would mix together different icings, setting some out for the girls to decorate, while she and Gavin saved a few for themselves.

At his daughter’s requests, he’d tried icing hearts, butterflies, flowers, and pink “rocks.” He’d even tried blending frostings together onto plain chocolate cupcakes so they would have pink and purple icing.

That particular attempt had not gone over that well, turning very messy very fast, but it had made the girls laugh, and Rowan had been kind enough to kiss the frosting from his cheeks.

He’d even tried moving the elf around the house, trying to make it seem like a more benign entity than Shaw had when he’d snuck into their house. The doll still gave him the creeps, though, and he found he would hold it at arms length as he tried determining where to display it next. And he would feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end while he prepared the scene around the elf, like it really was watching him, keeping an eye on all of his movements.

He wouldn’t feel safe again until he’d crawled back into bed with Rowan, burying his face against her chest and breathing in the gentle smell of her soap.

Today, he had set the elf in the living room, perching it on the piano. He’d arranged small plush toys he’d purchased on the piano bench underneath it as though they were having a tea party. He’d even set out little plates of snacks for the girls when they woke up, like the elf was trying to hold a tea party for them.

Aurora, of course, was thrilled, squealing with delight as she raced around the room, clasping her favourite axolotl plush to her chest, taking in the little scene.

Gardenia seemed more interested in the plates of cookies and the little pot of tea he’d set out than the elf, although she did shoot it a wary glance as she walked past, plucking one of the plushies from its spot and carrying it over to her favourite corner on the couch.

Cordelia huffed when she walked in, an impish gleam in her eyes as she marched towards the elf, snatching up a cookie in each hand and lifting them above her head like she was going to chuck them at the wall.

Gavin dove towards her, not wanting her to knock over any of the cups or plates, or, god forbid, knock over the tree.

But it was Wisteria who caught Cordelia’s hands before Gavin did, Wisteria’s eyes wide, her shoulders shaking, her eyes fixed on the elf.

“No throwing, Cordelia,” she whispered, prying the cookies from her sister’s hands. “Throwing is naughty.”

Cordelia huffed again, pouting. “I want coal!”

Snorting, Gavin scooped Cordelia up into his arms, tossing her into the air and catching her again. “You don’t want to be on the naughty list, do you?”

“Want more rocks!” She shrieked, wriggling in his arms. “Rocko needs friends!”

Now it was Gardenia who was huffing, and a quick peek at her confirmed she was rolling her eyes, her little nose wrinkling at the mention of Rocko, Cordelia’s beloved pet rock.

Who, likely not so coincidentally, Cordelia had insisted on giving the last gingerbread cookie to even though Gardenia had wanted it.

Rowan entered the living room last, their littlest, Sorrel, nearly a year old on Christmas day, cuddled in her arms. He still looked half asleep, blinking slowly as he scanned the room curiously.

“What’s going on?” Rowan asked, her lips quirking up in a half smile. “We were just getting changed when we heard shouting.” She bounced Sorrel in her arms, nuzzling her nose against his round cheeks. “Weren’t we?”

Sorrel giggled in response, babbling something incoherent.

“Mama, mama!” Aurora sang, running up to Rowan, bouncing on her toes. “The elf made us a tea party!”

Rowan’s eyes widened as she took in the room, her gaze falling on Gavin as her smile grew wider, her eyes soft. “The elf must be very fond of you all.”

Gavin’s knees felt a little weak, like they might give out on him at any moment. There were feathery wings brushing against the inside of his chest, a windstorm kicking up in his belly.

Her smile was sunshine in winter, rain in a drought. He wished she would hold him then, tucking his head beneath her chin and murmuring how she loved him against his hair.

“Yeah, but Cordelia tried throwing cookies!” Aurora continued, yanking Gavin from his reverie.

A line formed between Rowan’s brows as she readjusted Sorrel in her arms. “Oh my. Cordelia, why would you do that?”

Cordelia giggled, trying to crawl onto Gavin’s shoulders. “I want rocks!”

“Wisteria stopped her though!” Aurora sang, bouncing once more. “She rescued the day!”

Wisteria, for her part, was standing still as a statue, like she was petrified. She blinked as Rowan knelt down in front of her, setting Sorrel on the ground before wrapping Wisteria in a tight hug.

“I love you,” she said, kissing the top of Wisteria’s head. “You’re the sweetest.”

Wisteria buried her head against Rowan’s shoulder, much quieter than usual.

Beside them, Sorrel started fussing, his bottom lip trembling as tears began to slip from his eyes. He was usually the sweetest, cuddliest baby, but he never liked being set down.

He rolled onto his belly, babbling, and Gavin set Cordelia down so he could draw Sorrel into his arms, rocking him and singing softly to calm him down. Aurora plopped down on the floor beside Gavin, setting her axolotl to the side and making grabby hands at Sorrel.

“Can I holds him?” She asked, beaming. “I wanna holds him!”

“Be very careful, okay?” Gavin said, gently settling Sorrel in Aurora’s arms, making sure she was supporting his head. “He’s still a baby, you have to be gentle.”

“I’m gentle with him!” She sang, kissing the downy hair on his head. “He loves to cuddle me!”

In response, Sorrel cooed, little hands grabbing at Aurora’s hair.

“See?! He loves me!”

Gavin ruffled Aurora’s hair, keeping a close eye on her. Aurora was much more careful in comparison to the other 3 girls, but she was still little and he wasn’t about to leave her with the baby unsupervised.

“What about me, mama?!” Cordelia cried, stomping at Rowan’s side. “Am I da sweetest?!”

Rowan laughed, drawing Cordelia into her lap. “You, my little tater tot, are being the naughtiest right now.”

Cordelia squealed as Rowan tickled her, cheeks turning red as she squirmed in her mother’s grip.

“Mama, I’m gonna pee!”

Rowan released her immediately, patting her back as she crawled from her lap. “You better run! Before you pee!”

Giggling, Cordelia stumbled away, shrieking when she nearly ran into their dog Stella, who was watching the shenanigans from a safe distance.

Rowan stood, stretching her arms above her head. “Well I’d better go help her. She hasn’t quite mastered the potty yet.”

It was only once Rowan and Cordelia were gone that Gavin noticed the room was strangely quiet, and after doing a quick headcount realized they were missing one of the girls.

“Did you see where Wisteria went?” He asked Aurora, who only shook her head as she pinched Sorrel’s cheeks.

“Be gentle,” Gavin chided. “Don’t pinch his cheeks like that.”

“But they’re so chubby!” She said, pouting. “And you and mama pinch our cheeks.”

“That’s different, sweet potato,” he said, gently taking Sorrel back into his arms. “You all are big enough to know we do it because we love you. But all he thinks is that it hurts.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Oh.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure he knows you love him, though.”

Aurora leaned forward to kiss Sorrel’s cheeks. “I’m sorry! I wubs you, please don’t be mad at me!”

Sorrel cooed in response, smiling up at Aurora.

“I think he forgives me!”

Gavin chuckled. “I’m sure he has. Now why don’t you play for a little while I go look for your sister.”

“Okay, papa!”

Gavin found Wisteria a few minutes later, hiding under her bed with her favourite dolls, muttering quietly to herself.

“Hey there, baked potato,” he said, setting Sorrel down so he could peek under the bed. “What are you doing?”

Wisteria sighed. “I’m playing.”

“Playing all alone?”

She nodded, eying Sorrel warily as he scooted himself under the bed with her. She pulled her dolls closer to herself, eyes narrowed as Sorrel made a grab for them.

“Papa, is he gonna bite my dollies?”

Gavin grabbed Sorrel’s waist, dragging him out from under the bed. “He won’t.”

“But he was biting Gardenia’s dollies yesterday.”

He frowned, even as Sorrel giggled, seemingly unfazed by being dragged out from under the bed. “Has he been biting anything else?”

She nodded. “He was chewing on Stewwa’s fish toy, too.”

Sorrel laughed, babbling unintelligibly. Gavin pursed his lips. That meant he was probably starting to teethe. They’d have to get him some teething toys to try and stop him from chewing on anything else.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t bite any of your toys, okay?” He said, looking back at Wisteria.

“Okay, papa.”

“What are you doing under here, anyways?”

She shrugged. “Playin. I don’t wanna play with the elf.”

Ah, that made sense.

“Even though the elf made you a nice tea party? And brought some early presents yesterday?”

Wisteria shook her head. “He’s spooky, I don’t like him.”

Gavin could not agree more.

“Do you want me to play with you?”

Another shake of her head. “No, that’s okay, papa.”

He hummed, deciding it was probably best to leave her for a while. He wouldn’t deny her some quiet time alone if that’s what she wanted.

“Let me know if you want me to play with you,” he said, scooping Sorrel up as he stood.

“Cordelia, you have to wash your hands!”

The sound of Rowan chastising Cordelia drew Gavin from the room, and he made his way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall and trying very hard not to laugh as he watched Rowan try to get a very unwilling Cordelia to wash her hands.

When they were finally done the bathroom counter was covered in soapy water, and rivulets of water dripped from Rowan’s cheeks as Cordelia skipped away.

“Potty training that one is going to be the death of me,” Rowan grumbled wiping her face.

“Did she miss?”

Rowan sighed, a tired smile curling at her lips. “No, but she tried to get up before she’d wiped, and then she fought with me as I tried helping her get her clothes back on, and she didn’t want to wash her hands.”

Gavin transferred Sorrel to one arm, cradling him as he held his other out to Rowan, drawing her close. “You’re doing amazing.”

Rowan sighed, her breath soft against his throat. “Am I? I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. I can hardly manage to keep them all out of trouble.”

Gavin chuckled. “I can’t even keep them all out of trouble. But that’s why there’s two of us, so at least we stand a chance.”

Another sigh, although he thought maybe just maybe there was a bit of laughter in her voice. “I suppose.”

Rowan peeked up, smiling at Sorrel, nestled against Gavin’s chest. “At least this tiny potato isn’t causing too many problems for us yet.”

Gavin winced at that. “Well, actually…”

Rowan slumped against Gavin’s chest as he told her that Sorrel had been biting things lately, and that they would probably need to get him some teething toys soon.

“I guess I can go out after breakfast,” she mumbled, hands twisting into the fabric of Gavin’s shirt. “Although I don’t really want to drive today, the roads are probably still bad from the snow we got last night.”

“I’ll go,” he offered, kissing the top of her head. “You stay here and I’ll go buy some teething toys. And,” he added, grinning a little. “I’ll take Cordelia with me too, to make sure she doesn’t get up to any mischief here.”

“I love you,” Rowan breathed. “I don’t tell you enough, but I love you.”

“Pumpkin, you tell me plenty,” he said, nose bumping against hers, their breath tangling together. “Although I can always stand to hear it more.”

***

After breakfast, Gavin and Rowan tag-teamed getting the girls dressed, Gavin handling the twins while Rowan handled the two older girls. Cordelia fussed the most, annoyed that she was being forced to run errands so early instead of throwing snowballs with her sisters.

“We’ll have fun, tater tot,” Gavin promised, hefting her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Maybe we’ll even get some treats!”

“I don’t wanna!” Cordelia cried, little fists smacking against Gavin’s back. “I wanna play!”

“We won’t be that long, and you can play when we get home.”

She tried to raspberry his neck, but he yanked her away, laughing as she squealed.

Wisteria watched them solemnly as Gavin got Cordelia ready to go out, fitting her hat over her head and her mitts and trying to tie up her boots, although she was not making it particularly easy for him.

“What’s going on, baked potato?” Rowan asked, kneeling down beside Wisteria. “Do you not want to go out and play?”

Wisteria eyed her sisters getting ready to play out in the snow, and Gavin noticed for the first time that Aurora was clutching the elf, her face already bright pink from her excitement.

“Can I go with papa?” She asked, turning pleading eyes on Gavin. “Please? I wanna go to the bookstore!”

Gavin opened his mouth, closed it again. He could not blame Wisteria for wanting to get away from the elf if she could. That thing was definitely haunted, he was almost sure of it.

“Of course, baked potato,” Rowan said, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s get you ready.”

A few minutes later he was buckling both Cordelia and Wisteria into their carseats, promising that yes he would play the Christmas carols they wanted to listen to, yes he would play the disney princess karaoke CD afterwards.

He had been under the impression that they wouldn’t take very long, just needing to run into the toy store to find a few teething toys then back out again. But he had neglected to remember that it was the holiday season, which meant every store would be overrun with panicked last minute shoppers, which meant that the roads would be clogged with people racing between stores.

And, it didn’t help that the roads were still absolutely abysmal, the snowplows seeming to have forgotten to clear most of the roads after the storm from the previous night.

Just finding a park spot at the mall was nearly impossible with all the other drivers scooting around the lot haphazardly, with streams of pedestrians sneaking in around the idling cars.

It was by sheer luck alone that he was able to find a park spot in the very back of the lot, wedged between a massive pickup truck and a sports car that had double parked.

He frowned at the sports car, not understanding how someone could park that poorly, especially now when parking spots were more valuable than gold.

Maybe they had done it on purpose. It was possible, hoping to avoid damage to their expensive vehicle but giving it so much space there was no way someone could scratch it with a door swung too-wide.

The driver had clearly not taken into account that taking up so much space would not protect them from the sticky fingers of children.

In particular, Gavin’s children.

He’d unbuckled Cordelia first, although looking back he would question why he would ever do such a thing, setting her on the ground and making her swear up and down that she would not move from his side while he unbuckled Wisteria.

He had only been turned away for a minute at most, but Cordelia had scampered over to the sports car, running her finger over the side of the car, streaking mud and what was probably icing from the cupcake she’d snagged before they’d left.

“Cordelia!” He called, but it was far too late as she started drawing hearts on the side of the car with the mud and slush splatter from the messy roads.

He set Wisteria down, plucking Cordelia up before she could do any more damage.

“We don’t do that on other people’s cars, okay?”

She giggled, but nodded her head. “Okay, papa.”

Heaving a sigh, Gavin just hoped the owner wouldn’t know it was them. Cordelia hadn’t done anything illegal, but he really didn’t want to deal with someone trying to scream at his three year old.

“Let’s go you two,” he said, scooping Wisteria into his arms next, balancing her on his shoulder. “Let’s go get some things for your brother.”

“And da bookstore?” Wisteria asked, pulling on his hair.

Gavin winced. “Yes, and we can go to the bookstore.”

“Can we gets ice cream?” Cordelia asked, a cold, tiny hand grabbing his ear.

“It’s cold today, do you really want ice cream?”

Cordelia hummed, her gaze flickering ahead of them, as though she had completely forgotten what he’d just asked.

Shopping with the girls posed another complication, and Gavin regretted not bringing the stroller with him. Or even one of the backpack leashes they sometimes used on the twins when they couldn’t bring the big stroller anywhere.

The stores were busy, the mall hallways so crowded it was nearly impossible not to get bumped or shoved. He kept his hold on the girls as long as he could, but when they got to the toy store, he didn’t hesitate before grabbing a cart and dropping them both into it.

Wisteria giggled, standing up right away and throwing her hands above her head. “Papa! What are you doing?!”

He laughed. “A little shopping, what does it look like?”

“Well you can’t buy us!” She cried. “We’re not for sale!”

“You’re not?” He lifted her hat from her head, then peeked under one of her pigtails, pretending to look for a price tag. “Hmm, I don’t see a price.”

“Cause we’re not for sale, papa!” She laughed.

“But you’re in the cart!” He said, maneuvering it around the hoards of people wandering around the store.

“You put us here!”

“Well because I saw two little girls and wanted to buy them!”

Wisteria fell backwards, laughing so hard she couldn’t stand. Cordelia giggled along with her, although she seemed lost as to whatever joke was being bounced between Gavin and Wisteria.

A few people shot them dirty looks from how loud Wisteria was being, but he decided he didn’t mind. She was five and she was silly and she wasn’t harming anyone. He would not stop her from laughing or expressing her joy.

The baby section was, miraculously, relatively quiet in comparison to the rest of the toy store. He was able to find the aisle with the teething toys relatively quickly, although that was little comfort when he found himself faced with what felt like a hundred different options.

“What do you girls think?” He asked, holding up a few different options. “What do you think Sorrel will like more?”

Wisteria grabbed for a colourful teething ring immediately, but Cordelia took a while longer to consider, stuck between a banana and an elephant shaped toy.

“Both,” she said at last, pointing to the two of them.

Gavin laughed, unable to say no as she grabbed at the toys, clutching them to her chest. “You think Sorrel will like these two?”

“Yes, yes!” She sang, wiggling in the cart. “He likes to chew!”

Wisteria pouted. “As long as it’s not my dollies.”

Gavin ruffled her hair, snorting. “With these he’s much less likely to chew on your toys, Wisteria.”

“Good, they’re going to a party tonight.”

“Oh are they?” He began pushing the cart from the baby section, although he was forced to make a pit stop in the barbie aisle, both Wisteria and Cordelia trying to crawl from the cart so they could wander as they pleased.

“Potatoes, you need to stick together,” he called, grabbing Cordelia’s hand before she could stumble out of sight, barely missing Wisteria as she waddled away, a barbie doll set in her arms.

“Wisteria you can’t have that,” he said, trying to pry the box from her.

“But I wants it!” She cried, tears already falling from her cheeks.

“You have enough dolls.

“But I need them for the party!”

Cordelia decided that she absolutely had to get in on the action, bursting into tears too.

Gavin sighed, massaging his brow.

The proper, mature thing to do was to tell them no, the dolls had to go back. But there were also 4 dolls in that set, and he knew for a fact neither he or Rowan had gotten any of the girls that particular set.

The decision was pretty easy, when he considered how he did not want to handle carting two wailing daughters from the mall.

He plucked the box from Wisteria’s arms, dropping it into the cart. “You can have it as long as each of your sisters also gets a doll.”

“Okay, papa!”

Her tears were already gone, vanishing as if they had never existed.

Sighing, Gavin scooped the girls up, depositing them back into the cart. “That’s it, okay? No more detours.”

“What about the bookstore?”

“And doughnuts!”

He frowned at Cordelia. “I thought you wanted ice cream.”

“Doughnuts! Doughnuts!”

Gavin heaved out a long breath, regretting he had forgotten the stroller. He would have to let one of the girls walk at this rate, or rent one of the mall strollers, although he had a sneaking suspicion that there would be none available.

The mall was packed and he had seen at least ten of the strollers available for rent in the time it took him to get from the entrance to the toy store.

“Alright, alright,” he said, giving in to their demands. He had never been one for saying no to their mother, and it seemed like his inability to deny her even the smallest thing that would bring her joy had carried over to their children.

But how could he say no when they shared her smile, her laugh? Aurora and Wisteria arguably looked the most like Rowan, with darker hair and eyes, but he could see her in the twins, too, in their smiles and the dimples in their cheeks.

“Let’s buy these first,” Gavin said, gesturing to the toys in the cart. “And then we’ll go to the bookstore, and then we’ll get some food, okay?”

The girls cheered, and Gavin couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across his face, not that he would ever want to. Joy blossomed in his heart, unfurling like petals of a new flower in the spring.

As long as his girls were happy, then he was happy, too.

***

The “short errand run” ended up taking more than a few hours, and Gavin would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little tired as he pulled the car key from the ignition, frowning at the bags stuffed between the girls in the backseat.

There had been the things they’d bought at the toy store, of course, and then Wisteria had been desperate to go into the bookstore. He had been viscerally reminded of all the times he’d gone to bookstores with Rowan in the past as his five year old had led him and Cordelia around the children’s section, flipping through different picture books before handing them to Gavin, much like Rowan did.

He’d ended up with a stack of six books before he’d had to stop Wisteria, dragging her from the aisles before she could find something else she desperately needed.

But then she’d just started running for another section of the store, shouting at him that her mama would want something, too.

And Wisteria had not been wrong on that either, and Gavin had quickly found himself adding a few more books to the pile before he managed to get himself and both girls through the checkout line and back into the mall.

And then they had ended up in another store, Cordelia utterly enchanted by the sparkly rocks that were on display in a small metaphysical shop that had recently opened up. He’d ended up caving and buying her a few crystals, and she’d clutched them in her arms as they’d made their way through the mall and back to the parking lot, rocking them like babies.

The next stop had been to find treats for the girls, because Cordelia had been insisting on treats, and Wisteria had quickly taken up the cry. But that meant he had to buy treats for all of the girls, and the bakery sold some nice bread too, so maybe he would buy some for dinner that night.

Things had spiralled from there, and now Gavin found himself glaring at the bags of things that needed to be carried in, and the two little girls who would certainly not be of much help.

He had considered, at one point as they’d been trapped in bumper to bumper traffic, that he should mention that the elf would likely tell Santa that the girls were being very naughty and very demanding, but he didn’t want to risk the potential for very negative side effects.

Wisteria was finally acting more like herself again, and she wasn’t nearly as jumpy as she’d been over the last few weeks. She was loud and bright and silly and demanding, and he didn’t want to dampen her joy.

As for Cordelia, well…

He didn’t want to give her a reason to act out any further, or to be trying to be naughty. He didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

So he decided not to mention the elf, deciding that caving in and buying the girls treats and toys was much better than the alternative.

“I wanna see mama!” Wisteria cried, throwing her hands in the air. “I wanna show her my books!”

Gavin chuckled, ducking as he narrowly missed her fists. “You have to sit still, baked potato, or else I won’t be able to unbuckle you.”

She groaned, slumping back in her seat. “I wanna see mama.”

“I’m sure she’s missed you very much.”

“I gonna show mama my rocks!” Cordelia sang, still rocking the crystals Gavin had bought her. “They’re pwetty.”

He hummed, smiling as he finally released Wisteria from her car seat and set her on the ground. “Very pretty.”

He unclipped Cordelia next, and he had barely dropped her to the ground before she was already stumbling up the driveway to the front door, squealing furiously when she couldn’t quite reach the handle.

“Just a minute,” Gavin called, trying to grab hold of all of the bags so he didn’t have to make a second trip.

“Papa!”

“Papa, I’m freezing!”

He laughed, as he came up to the door, throwing it wide for the girls to run through. “You both need to learn some patience.”

“Boooo!”

“Booooo!”

He snorted, kicking the door closed before setting down his bags. He hoped Rowan would be happy with what he’d purchased. He’d gotten things for the girls, and he’d gotten a few extra special things just for Rowan. Just so he could see her beautiful smile a little longer.

But the sight that greeted him was not the welcoming smile or hugs he was usually greeted with. Only Stella raced to the entrance, tail wagging, knocking Cordelia and Wisteria over before they’d gotten their shoes off as she licked their faces.

Gavin helped the girls get their jackets and boots off before taking his off, his curiosity piqued as he padded through the house. It was awfully quiet, and for a moment his stomach churned as he worried whether something had happened.

But as he walked into the living room all of his worries melted away, his eyes falling on the couch, where four bodies were all snuggled together, fast asleep.

Rowan was slumped on her side, Sorrel snuggled against her chest. Aurora must have crawled into the pile at some point, wedging herself between Rowan’s legs and the back of the couch, while Gardenia had snuggled herself up next to Sorrel.

“Papa, can I-”

Gavin gently scooped Wisteria up, shushing her before she could wake the others. “Hush, baked potato. Mama and everyone are sleeping.”

“I wanna open the barbies,” she whined, her bottom lip popping out in a little pout.

“Later,” he promised, carrying her from the room. “For now, would you like to help me with making dinner?”

Her eyes grew wide, and she nodded furiously. “Can we has hot dogs?”

“I was thinking something else, maybe that spicy pork-”

“Hot! Dogs!”

He laughed, covering her mouth. “Quiet, Wisteria. You’ll wake everyone up.”

She licked his hand and he yanked it away, snorting.

“You’re being awfully naughty right now.”

She huffed, turning her little head away. “I’m not the naughty one, Cordelia is!”

“What’s she doing now?”

“She’s trying to hide the barbies.”

Wincing, Gavin set Wisteria down, taking her hand. “Will you show me?”

In the end, Gavin had to stop Cordelia from hiding the barbies, and then hiding the books, and then trying to steal the pastries he had bought for everyone for dessert.

It wasn’t until he managed to get a few moments to set up the playpen and dump some of Cordelia’s favourite toys in it, followed by Cordelia herself, that he was able to start prepping dinner.

“Papa?”

Gavin looked up from the onions he was cutting as Wisteria pulled on his shirt. “What is it, love?”

“Did you put Cordelia in baby jail?”

“I did put Cordelia in baby jail. She was being naughty.”

“Will you put me in baby jail, papa?”

He wiped his hands on a dishcloth before crouching down, ruffling her hair. “Not unless you’re naughty, baked potato.”

“Can I help you cook?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sure, love. Why don’t you go get your stool and you can help.”

Rowan was the first of the four to wake, and Gavin heard her trying to extricate herself from the snuggle pile she had been buried in. He peeked his head into the living room to see her crawling around the girls still sleeping, practically vaulting from the couch so she didn’t disturb them.

“What smells so good?” She asked, yawning as she fell into his arms.

“Just something me and Wisteria have been making.”

She gave him a sleepy smile, nuzzling her face against his neck. “You didn’t have to, I would have cooked.”

“I wanted to,” he said, smiling as she yawned again. “And besides, Wisteria was very excited to help.”

“Was she now?” Rowan’s eyes blinked slowly, like she could still hardly keep them open. “Where is she now?”

Gavin hummed, unsure. She’d vanished once he’d started on the rice, deciding that making rice was far too boring for her.

“I’m not sure.”

“That cannot bode well.”

He chuckled, running a hand through Rowan’s hair. “Well she’s been on her best behaviour lately, so I doubt it’s that bad.”

“You were gone for so long,” Rowan whined, wrapping her arms around his waist. “What were you all doing?”

He hesitated, scratching at the back of his neck. “Well…”

She narrowed her eyes. “Gavin.”

“Okay, okay,” laughing, he relented, wrapping his arms around her once more. “I could never keep anything from you.”

Gavin recounted the afternoon as they searched for Wisteria, Rowan laughing when he explained what had happened at the bookstore and the bakery.

“Well, I am glad you went out,” Rowan said, checking inside the closet in their bedroom. “Sorrel tried to bite me twice.”

He blinked, grabbing her arm before she could stop him. “He did? Are you okay?!”

Rowan covered Gavin’s hand with hers, tracing the pad of her index finger over the back of his hand. “I’m okay, babey. He’s only little.”

He closed his eyes, drawing her against his chest. “I know, I know. I just don’t want you hurt.”

“Well now that we’ve got the teething toys, he should focus on those instead!”

Gavin chuckled. “You’re right.”

She stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I am right. But we still haven’t found Wisteria.”

They found her only a few minutes later, curled up underneath the tree, glaring out at the elf, perched once more on the piano.

“What are you doing down there, love?” Rowan asked, prying Wisteria from her hiding place to cradle her against her chest.

“Watchin’ the elf,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“Why are you watching him?”

“To see if I can stop him from coming back.”

Gavin snorted, ruffling her hair. “We’ll have to send a letter to Santa asking the elf not to come back.”

“Pwease!” She wailed, covering her face. “Pwease! He’s scawwy.”

Gavin had to agree with her there. He could not get used to the elf, despite being the person who had been in charge of moving it around for a few weeks now.

“Well let’s stop spying for now, okay?” Rowan murmured, smoothing Wisteria’s hair back. “Dinner is just about ready, and I want to try the food you and papa worked so hard on.”

Wisteria beamed at that, wiggling from Rowan’s arms to race towards the kitchen. She skidded to a stop though, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Gavin asked, wrapping his arms around Rowan’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, savouring the feel of her against his chest.

He wanted to take a nap with her, wanted to lie down and hold her tight in his arms for a while.

“Does this mean we’ll have to let Cordelia out of baby jail?”

***

Dinner did in fact mean that Cordelia would be released from the “baby jail” as Wisteria and Aurora often called the playpen. She scowled at Gavin, whining to Rowan that she had been locked away with no one to play with.

Rowan had responded by kissing Cordelia’s cheeks and telling her that she can’t be naughty anymore, to which Cordelia only got more annoyed.

She wanted to be naughty, so she could get coal!

The logic behind her vehement need to act naughty to earn coal was beyond Gavin’s understanding. He was pretty sure coal wasn’t even really a rock.

After dinner, Gavin was nearly too absorbed in cleaning up the dishes, listening to Rowan chat about how excited she was for the books he’d bought her, that he almost missed Cordelia shoving a chair next to the counter where the sprinkles and icing for the cookies Rowan was going to bake that night were waiting.

He had only just turned, planning to chase her around with soap foam on his hands until she forgot about the decorations, when he saw Wisteria dart out from under the table.

Why Wisteria was under the table was not knowledge he was privy to, but she’d been running around on two feet long enough that Gavin rarely questioned when she popped out of strange hiding places he hadn’t thought to look at.

He nudged Rowan so she turned too, and they both watched as Wisteria grabbed Cordelia by the wrists, dragging her from the table.

“You can’t!” Wisteria shrieked. “‘Delia you can’t! What if the elf sees!”

Cordelia squealed, trying to wrestle her sister. “I wants it to! And I wants sprinkles!”

“You can’t have sprinkles without cookies!”

“Yes I can!”

Struggling to contain their laughter, both Gavin and Rowan had to pry the girls apart, taking them to separate rooms until they both calmed down enough to apologize to each other.

It seemed like Wisteria had taken it upon herself to put out fires as they started, appearing in the twins’ like she had stepped from the shadows as Gavin was just about to take Cordelia for her nighttime bath.

He peeked around the corner, letting Cordelia run wild for a minute as Wisteria caught Gardenia, something gray clasped in her hands.

“Don’t do it,” Wisteria said, eyes wide. “Don’t hurt the rock.”

Gavin arched a brow, watching as Gardenia wilted, handing Wisteria the precious Rocko the rock.

“If the elf saw that it would be bad,” she chided, as though she were filled with wisdom, setting Rocko back onto his bed. “We have to be extra good to make up for Cordelia being bad.”

Gardenia nodded, throwing herself on her bed. “Can we play fairies?”

Wisteria brightened up at that, her somber expression gone as she grabbed a blanket from Gardenia’s bed.

Gavin smiled, his heart warm as he turned to head towards the bathroom, listening to the sounds of the girls laughing as they played.

But his heart was not warm for long, as Cordelia darted past his feet, all the rubber ducks they owned clutched in her hands, screaming as she headed for the stairs.

He swore, turning around to catch her, her high pitched giggles echoing through the house.

***

Bedtime was the most exhausting part of the day, and lately Gavin had been feeling so fatigued he was sure he would collapse on the spot, his body so heavy it could hardly move.

Somehow, through means he did not know, he had managed to get the twins to bed. Had managed to get Aurora to bed. Had offered Rowan something to eat while she had taken care of Sorrel, who was being fussier than usual, from a cold they both suspected he had caught from one of the girls.

There had been a bug going through the twins’ daycare, and although both of them hadn’t seemed to show any symptoms, Gavin was pretty sure it had been passed to poor Sorrel. Meaning it was nearly impossible to get him to sleep.

He stayed outside Sorrel’s room, listening as Rowan sang to him softly, listening as the floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she settled him into his crib.

Rowan gasped when Gavin took her hand, drawing her against his chest.

“Gavin, you scared me!” She hissed, smacking his chest. “What if we woke up Sorrel again?!”

Gavin nuzzled his nose against hers, unable to stop from smiling. Oh how he loved her, even as she chastised him.

“I missed you.”

He could feel her melting a little in his arms, leaning against him. “I missed you, too.”

“Today has been so long, and I wanted some time with just you.”

She peeled away, arching her brow. “Have you put all the girls to sleep?”

He nodded. “Just about. I figured you’d have your hands full with Sorrel.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘just about?’”

He took her hand again, guiding her down the stairs. “Well, I wanted to show you what Wisteria has been up to.”

He guided her into the living room, to where the tree stood sparkling with gold and red and green lights tangled on its branches. He pointed to the ground, where a lock of brown hair could be seen peeking out from beneath the tree.

“My sweet girl,” Rowan murmured, kneeling down to draw Wisteria from beneath the tree. “She fell asleep under there.”

He nodded. “She told me she was ‘on patrol’ and that she couldn’t go to bed yet. I told her she could have five more minutes and found her asleep like that.”

Rowan cradled Wisteria gently, brushing kisses to her brow. “I don’t know how we did it, but she might be the funniest kid in the world.”

He laughed at that, smoothing back Wisteria’s hair as she snored, eyelids twitching from whatever dream she was lost in. “I think she might be.”

“I’ll put her to bed,” Rowan offered. “And then…”

He arched his brow as she trailed off. “And then?”

Rowan kissed his cheek, her smile sly. “Then perhaps we can have a little time together, just the two of us.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind emptying of thoughts, like they were burned away beneath the fire building beneath his skin.

His fatigue was still there, like shackles around his wrists and ankles. But he found it didn’t bother him as much as before, and he found himself trying to busy himself with tidying up while he waited for her.

But he froze when he saw the elf staring at him. He glared at it, turning it around to face the wall. He certainly did not need the elf keeping watch right now.

***

The misadventures with the elf finally reached their climax on the strangest of days.

A Tuesday, a little over a week before Christmas. Rowan had finally finished her baking frenzy that morning, and Gavin was helping her to clean up the kitchen, letting her know that she absolutely had to sit and read the books he’d bought her now. That she had to sit right in his lap and let him cuddle her for a few hours before she could get up once they were done cleaning.

She was laughing, her cheeks the soft pink of the flowers he had purchased for her earlier when he’d gone out to pick up more eggs and milk. They were peonies, their soft perfume filling the kitchen, reminding him of spring.

He would have to buy some more, to set on the dresser in their bedroom. Rowan loved peonies, and the pink of their petals reminded him of her cheeks when he kissed her.

They were nearly done washing up the pots and pans when a shriek cracked through the room, followed by different voices shouting.

“Cordelia, give him back!”

“Cordelia, no!”

Gavin almost didn’t want to look, but he knew that he had to.

He and Rowan sprinted into the living room, taking in the chaos of the scene.

All five of their children were in the room. Aurora trying to have a tea party with Gardenia and Wisteria, Sorrel in his playpen, and Cordelia snatching the elf from its place of honour at Aurora’s tea party table.

It was like Gavin was watching everything in slow motion, watching as Aurora cried helplessly, her arms outstretched as Cordelia snagged the elf. As Wisteria leapt from her seat, eyes wide. As Cordelia cackled, racing to Sorrel’s playpen and dropping the elf inside.

As Sorrel, sweet little Sorrel, who was in the midst of teething, picked up the elf, curious more than anything. And slowly tried biting the elf’s head.

Gavin blinked, and was suddenly snapped back to the present, everything moving at normal speed once more. Aurora was shrieking, racing to the playpen, and Wisteria sat, petrified.

And Sorrel, their sweet, little, cuddly Sorrel, sat perfectly content chewing on the leg of the elf.

“Oh mama!” Aurora wailed, tearing herself from the side of the playpen and racing towards Rowan. “Mama, Cordelia took the elf! Tell Sorrel to stop! Make him stop!”

Cordelia was snickering, clapping her hands as Sorrel, oblivious, stared at them all curiously with his wide eyes.

“He’s tasting it!” Cordelia sang, dancing from foot-to-foot.

“Now Santa will never come!” Wisteria cried, throwing herself onto the couch, kicking her legs against the cushions.

Gardenia, for her part, seemed mostly unbothered by the chaos, watching everything quietly as she ate a cookie.

“Mamaaaaaa!” Aurora cried, and Rowan had to lift her up, cuddling her close to her chest. “Mama, he’s my friend!”

“I know, sweet potato,” Rowan murmured, rubbing her back.

Gavin bit the inside of his cheek, sharing a tired look with Rowan. Neither of them had really thought the elf would spiral out of control like this.

Gavin rescued the elf while Rowan comforted Aurora, and then Wisteria, swapping it out for another toy that Sorrel was just as happy to play with.

He set the elf high up, turning it to face the wall to give all of them peace from its unblinking gaze.

“Cordelia, you know that wasn’t okay,” Gavin chided, crossing his arms as she gazed up at him, seeming more curious than worried about being reprimanded.

“Sorrel wanted to pway!” She argued, blinking up at him with so much innocence he almost faltered, questioning whether she should be punished at all.

But of course, this was a little much, sending two of her sisters into hysterics with her shenanigans.

Cordelia shuffled away, sulking once Gavin was done, and he nearly sagged into the closest chair, exhausted although it was barely after 12 in the afternoon.

It took another little while to fully calm Aurora and Wisteria down, and both of them ended up wandering away, eyes puffy from their tears, hands clasped together as they left.

Rowan held her arms out to Gavin, and together they both slumped onto the couch, groaning.

“Mama, I watch movie?” Gardenia asked, turning to peer up at the two of them, unperturbed by the commotion.

“Okay, love,” Rowan sighed, reaching for the remote. “What would you like to watch?”

“Elsa?”

She nodded, flicking through their movies. “The one with the little lizard?”

“Oh, yes!”

A ghost of a smile danced across her lips. “Perfect, there you go, tater tot.”

Appeased, Gardenia turned her attention to the television, her focus utterly diverted.

“I’m so tired,” Rowan muttered, pressing her face against Gavin’s chest. “I’m so tired.”

He rubbed her back gently, humming in agreement. “You deserve a rest.”

Her head popped up, nose wrinkled as she glared at him. “You deserve a rest.”

He chuckled, cupping her cheek. “Maybe we both deserve a rest.”

Another sigh, her eyes falling closed as she leaned into his touch. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Then let’s rest.”

She tipped her head back, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“Aurora and Wisteria have probably gone off to play in their room, Cordelia will probably take a nap until she feels a little better, Sorrel is playing in his playpen, and Gardenia-”

At the sound of her name Gardenia tipped her head upside down to look at them for a moment. She blinked, and Gavin blinked back. Then she giggled, and Gavin poked her nose, telling her to watch her movie.

“Well, she’s almost completely absorbed in her movie,” he continued, lowering her voice. “So why don’t we take a rest?”

Rowan wrinkled her brow, looking ready to argue with him. She was always ready to argue with him when he suggested rest, when he suggested doing nothing for a little while.

“No buts,” he said, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Unless-”

She smacked him, and he smiled, chuckling when she smacked him again. “Don’t you dare say it.”

He slid one hand lower, but he didn’t even get to squeeze her ass before she was smacking his arm again, mouth pressed in a thin line to try and staunch her stream of laughter.

“Gavin,” she chided, even as a bubble of laughter spilled from her lips.

He leaned closer, resting his head on her shoulder. “Yes?”

She groaned, as if in disbelief, but Gavin could feel her smile in his hair as she pressed a kiss to his head. “That’s very naughty, you know. You might get coal this year for Christmas.”

“No I won’t,” he said, letting his eyes fall closed, letting himself succumb to his fatigue. “I turned the elf towards the wall, it can’t see anything.”

She didn’t stop herself from laughing this time, snuggling closer. “Well in that case, I suppose you can do whatever you want.”

He sighed. “Good, because I want to rest with you for a while.”

She hummed, running fingers through his hair. “Then we can rest. For as long as you would like.”

And that was the last thing he heard before he slipped away into sleep, his dreams blissfully void of elves and coal.

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