Tumgik
#toddlers mugs
yourcoffeeguru · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Wedgwood Peter Rabbit Classic Two Handled Bone China Toddler Child's Mug Boxed || SWtradepost - ebay
Peter Rabbit thought..... It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in. If it had not had so much water in it.
41 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
13 notes · View notes
lilyharvord · 2 years
Text
Y’all I saw a fan art that was captioned: best uncle ever, I promise. And it was supposed to be Kilorn holding Coriane when she’s born and I hurt my own fucking feelings thinking about how the first time he babysits for Mare and Cal he teaches her to say: best uncle ever and she gets a piece of candy or something when she does. So whenever she sees him after that she just screams for everyone to hear; BEST UNCLE EVER. And he fucking glows because of it. 
26 notes · View notes
pyreshe · 1 year
Text
not my house being fucking haunted 😭
6 notes · View notes
toopeanutcrown · 3 months
Text
Official Presentation My Most Precious Baby
Welcome to my sight Wholesome, pristine and Squeaky Clean one that your babies would be proud of WE LOVE BABYS.If you would realize how unbelievably privileged and lucky you truly are to hold and cuddle the sweetest gift ever, you would be the happiest person in the world.
(908) 460-7519
0 notes
macsean90 · 8 months
Text
0 notes
academics-dark-corner · 9 months
Text
Being in my twenties has taught me that, fuck conventional norms,
Mugs (for me specifically) is such a superior cup compared to a standard water glass? I’m a clumsy bitch and those things get slippery. A mug I can HOLD. And if I can HOLD a thing, I will actually drink fucking water
Fuck standard glassware, gimme a coffee cup to drink my Mountain Dew in peace
0 notes
celestialwhoree · 3 months
Text
🌙💖
Simon Riley with a single mom!reader.
She moves in to the flat next-door with her toddler, who's understandably a little freaked and unsettled by the new place, keeps her mom up all night with her cries.
She brings apology cookies over the next day, embarrassed at the fact she's not even been in the building for a month yet and her neighbours already probably hate her.
The burly, gruff looking military man who answers the door with an understanding smile and an invitation for her to join him for a cup of tea makes her jaw practically drop.
Truth is, he's seen her and her daughter in and around town for a couple of weeks now and hasn't managed the courage to speak to her, but when she comes over and hands him a divine smelling plate of cookies with a ringless finger, he can't not.
They get to chatting, and she mentions how occasionally she hears the music he plays through their adjoining wall, shares her mutual love of The Eagles and Credence Clearwater. He mentions how good her cooking smells, she invites him for dinner with a gentle smile and fingers fidgeting around the rim of her mug.
Her daughter is also a poppet, tries to get him to play Barbies with her whilst her mom makes dinner.
She preps him a really hearty meal, hot and protein rich and loaded onto the plate whilst he loads her daughter into her highchair and helps to set the table.
Single Mom!Reader can't help but revel in the almost domesticity of it, of having some support. Simon also doesn't mind the coziness of her home and the chirpiness of her daughter.
4K notes · View notes
yourcoffeeguru · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Humphrey's Corner Ceramic Eating Bowl and Cup Childs Set Gift by Sally Hunter || AUtradingpost - ebay
2 notes · View notes
swimmingruinsdream · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs Toddler for Chicken Lovers Coffee mug
Enjoy your morning coffee with this adorable Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs Toddler mug. The design features a cute chicken illustration and the text "Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs" in a playful font. It's a perfect gift for anyone who loves chickens and their little ones.
0 notes
celaenaeiln · 9 months
Text
Jason: *barging into the cave* What the hell are you doing?! The little brat said Dick’s been kidnapped, so why are you just sitting here?!
Tim: *taking a slow sip of coffee* he hasn’t been kidnapped.
Jason: What do you mean? Where is he then?
Tim: He’s hanging out with the Titans
Jason: *putting down his helmet and grabbing a cookie off Tim’s plate* Then why’d the toddler say he’s been kidnapped.
Tim: *glaring at him for stealing his precious cookie* He learned that if Dick couldn’t spend time with him he could just say that Dick’s been kidnapped so that the rest of us would crash the place to “rescue” him.
Jason: That’s…that’s actually pretty smart. I wonder where he learned that.
Tim: *side-eyeing a hunched and scowling Bruce over the rim of his coffee mug*
Jason:
4K notes · View notes
losersclublol · 1 year
Text
JUST GIVE ME STANPAT DOING GROWN UP THINGS PLEASE
1 note · View note
theragethatisdesire · 11 months
Text
aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!
Tumblr media
includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi
i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3
DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
Eren
ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol
buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.
10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”
you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”
loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.
TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.
refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.
favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”
lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.
really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”
accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.
aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.
wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.
Jean
most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.
freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”
jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.
it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”
plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad
wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.
the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.
the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.
“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”
definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.
always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake
SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip
jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest
wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.
talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you
Reiner
another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.
buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.
accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.
cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.
definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.
all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.
always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.
can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.
takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him
DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.
always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter
coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)
never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.
the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.
holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”
Levi
levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.
when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”
super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.
totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.
“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”
levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.
100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.
has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.
“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”
vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”
he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.
learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand
you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.
he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 
wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.
3K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: blood
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.” 
“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them. 
“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.” 
You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.” 
“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.” 
“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.” 
“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless. 
“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?” 
Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…” 
“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.” 
You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand. 
“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.” 
“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask. 
“Well, he does live here.” 
You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?” 
James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.” 
“You could take him,” you grumble. 
He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.” 
You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.” 
James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.” 
It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.” 
He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.” 
Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop. 
“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen. 
James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first. 
“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?” 
James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself. 
“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?” 
You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say. 
Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”
“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that. 
“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.
“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.
“Stitches?” 
“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.” 
You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee. 
His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink. 
“Not so badly,” you tell him. 
He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?” 
You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.” 
He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner. 
“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.” 
“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.” 
James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.” 
You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?” 
You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully. 
“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter. 
You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.” 
“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”
1K notes · View notes
togeppys · 1 year
Text
jack of all trades ;
tsukishima kei x reader
reader is tsukki’s gf and wants to find something he’s not naturally talented at <3
Your boyfriend was annoying. 
He wasn’t annoying in the way that he spoke, or annoying in the way that he treated those around him— he was annoyingly above average. He was a jack of all trades, and it was infuriating. 
You originally thought that he had a natural gift for volleyball. He never seemed to devote much time to the sport, but he was a natural on the court, only getting better with practice and passion. It was only when you began going on dates that you started to realize that he was able to do anything he tried with ease. 
On your trip to an arcade, he watched you struggle to complete a game, only to land third place on the leaderboard when he attempted it himself. When you dragged him to a pottery class, the bowl that you had fashioned for yourself turned out lopsided with many kinks, while the mug that he made was simple but beautiful and now held a permanent place in your kitchen cabinet. 
When you first caught on, you started to treat it like a game– there had to be something that he couldn’t do. He thought you were making something out of nothing; he had no significant interest in most things that you made him try, so to make you happy he would downplay his abilities. You could tell when he was doing it though, and continued to watch for the moment when you finally found something he really couldn’t do. 
You began to curate the most random itineraries for outings that you possibly could, just for the chance of catching him off guard. Bowling, painting, basketball, beginners guitar– with a little practise he could grasp anything you threw at him. 
When the day finally came where you discovered his weakness, you never expected his kryptonite would be something so… mundane. 
Ice skating. 
You were nearing the point of giving up on the experiment, dragging him to go ice skating on a completely unrelated endeavour. After the holiday season the air was cold, perfect for ice skating, and you just wanted a day to spend with your boyfriend drinking hot drinks and visiting the local rink just like you did as a child. You didn’t expect for Tsukishima Kei, who was above-average at everything he tried, to be the worst ice skater you had witnessed in your life. 
You had grown up skating casually, taking lessons as a child and visiting the outdoor rink with your friends from time to time. Subconsciously, you assumed he had done the same, or at least would figure it out quickly as he did with all other things. When he first stumbled with his transfer onto the ice, gripping your arm for balance, you brushed it off as the initial beginner hurdle he needed to get over, thinking he would be smooth sailing within half an hour. When he fell for the first time, you helped him up with a laugh, helping him brush the snow off of his coat as you gave him pointers on how to focus his centre of gravity. He held your hand as he made small kicks across the ice, and you continued to think nothing of it. 
Only an hour in, did you begin to realize that he was not improving. The second he let go of you for support, he would collapse onto the ice, and while you held onto him, he was easily the slowest one on the rink. 
“Kei, honey.” you paused, trying to stifle the laughs and taunts that were about to escape you. 
He turned his head to look at you, slowing to a stop, seemingly as he couldn’t do both at the same time. 
You continued your thought, a smile creeping onto your face. “You do realize that there are two year olds passing us right now, right?” 
Surely enough, as you said it, a toddler stumbled past the two of you. Not very gracefully and sliding across the ice on his stomach shortly after, but there was no doubt that the child out-paced you both. You could see Tsukki’s cheeks turning slightly red as he let out a small laugh himself. 
“This is harder than I expected,” he commented, arm still linked with yours as he stepped out with his right foot. 
You tried to give him more pointers to seem supportive, but inside you felt smug– there was finally something that he wasn’t good at and this was your moment to gloat. “Rather than just stepping forward, kick your foot back like you’re pushing yourself forward. Like this.” You let go of his arm to try and demonstrate the different approach, kicking off with one foot as you instructed. When you turned back to join the tall boy again, he had somehow already found himself sprawled across the ice, his face void of any visible emotion. 
You skated back towards him, taking a moment to look down at him with a smile very clearly plastered across your face. Holding your hand out to offer him help standing up again, you couldn’t help the string of smug comments that came out as you heaved him up. 
“I could get you one of those skating aids that they give little kids. Although, you might be a bit too tall for one… I can stack two on top of each other, that will be more your speed– your height. Your speed is far less than 1 kilometre per hour.” You giggled, knowing that you were being slightly unfair. He remained composed every time he bested you at some task, but you let the thought go. This was your moment for mockery. 
As he finally held his balance, you skated a circle around him. 
“Oh glorious day– I can say that I’ve lived to see the day where THE jack of all trades, Kei Tsukishima has been bested by an activity. Ice skating of all things too.” 
“Unlike you, I never saw a need to aimlessly glide around in circles on the ice as a child.” 
You looked up at him, his mocking glare leading you to respond with nothing but a “Tsk.” 
“Okay, if I can’t get far skating like this, why don’t you show me how real skaters do it,” he laughed, urging you forward to go off without him. 
You gave him a puzzled look. “Why would I do that? We’re supposed to be skating together.”
He shook his head, gesturing for you to go ahead. 
“At least one of us should make the most of the money we’re spending renting these skates. Maybe I’ll learn better from watching you skate without pretending you’re teaching a small child. I’ll be onto the Olympics after one watch.” 
You gave him a small smile, before shrugging and going ahead at a much faster speed. You glided away with ease, skating two quick laps around the ice. The boy couldn’t help but smile as he watched your hair flow in the air behind you and the peace that seemed to overcome you as you skated. 
When you met back up with him, he requested that you try some tricks you hadn’t attempted since childhood, loud laughs escaping him as it was your turn to go sprawling across the ice after trying to do a full spin. After half an hour of more skating, you decided to call it a day and return your skates. 
As you finally decided to head off the ice and grab some hot chocolate with your boyfriend, you found yourself glowing with the excitement of your self-declared victory. You could finally stop trying to catch Tsukki off guard with a challenging date, and go back to simply enjoying your time together. You had to admit, you were a little sad that your trials had come to an end. 
So preoccupied with the many emotions running through your head, you didn’t seem to notice that while you had your back turned when getting off the ice, the “bad at skating” Kei Tsukishima kicked off easily with his left foot, making his way to the edge of the skating rink right behind you, a loving smile on his face as he looked down at your celebrations. He loved more than anything to see you happy, so despite the aches he would be having the next day from falling repeatedly, he would consider this date a success. 
He grabbed your hand as you walked from the rink towards the café, holding you grounded since you seemed like you were going to bounce away from pure happiness. While you remained overjoyed that skating was now number one on the list of skills that your boyfriend could not excel at in one go, Kei Tsukishima on the other hand, was adding a new skill to the list of trades he could accomplish with ease:
Acting. 
7K notes · View notes
macsean90 · 8 months
Text
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1558871145/ceramic-mug-11oz-pressed-flowers-mug
0 notes