#fluff central

[sandpumpkin]

Hiya pumpkin! *racing to the askbox* hoping I am in time to get a spot for the eternal flame box opening UwU I am going to be super predictable and ask for Izo if you don't mind? And then maybe the prompt “Why did you choose me?” and if it is taken already then "You’re cute when you’re half asleep.” can serve as a backup! all the fluff! Looking forward to all your works as per usual! sending smooches and all the inspiration!

The first day of Eternal Flames! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Wonderful Hazel!!! Of course you can have sweet precious Izo! I went with your first option. Hope this is okay!! (✿◠‿◠) I had fun writing this!

Eternal Flame

1 : Izo -  Why did you choose me

Under the cut: rating F..for Fluff. and it’s long

Swan and the clumsy duckling

How beautiful. You thought with a sleepy smile on your lips. Waking up before Izo was a rarity. You had rolled over expecting to find him already up and dressed but here he laid, his sleeping yukata hanging open at the top showing off his defined muscles, his hair loosely falling over his face. He’s like an angel. Daringly you moved to brush a strand of hair from his face. His ebony black hair could rival the finest silk with its softness and luxurious feel. He has such long eyelashes.. Ever since the day you laid your eyes on him, you were enamoured. 

He was so elegant, even during a fight swift as a coursing river, elegant as a swan, no movement was wasted, it was as if he were dancing. A dance you longed to be a part of. Unfortunately for you, you were blessed with two left feet and the social grace of a clam. Whenever the chance to converse with him across, you felt like the Alabasta desert had taken residence in your mouth. Once you had excused yourself in panic, only to run straight into Vista and knock yourself out. 

You cringed at that memory as it danced unabrastly at the forefront of your mind, guiding the next embarrassing memory to the stage. Oh..that happened didn’t it.. You were trying to show off a little to Izo. 

-

“I’d say my aim is pretty good.” you bolstered, like a peacock. You had adequate aim or so you thought. 

“Oh really. I’d like to see.” Izo said, taking your hand in his gloved one and setting one of his pistols down in it.

 He’s holding my hand?! Your brain was ringing the panic alarm so loudly, you didn’t hear any of Izo’s words or the laughter of the crew around you. Holding the gun in your hand you walked forward Okay. I got this.. Trigger is- resting your finger on the trigger you raised the gun up and steadied your stance, somehow standing on your own foot in the process. As you leant forward to look down, your finger pulled the trigger, a loud bang echoed across the deck and the gun launched back into your face, straight into your nose with a nasty crunch. You heard the clatter of the gun on the deck and you saw the beautiful blue sky as you fell backwards. 

“Hey! Are you okay?!” a set of sturdy hands caught your shoulders halting your descent. 

“Re-recoil…” you laughed nervously, in your mild concussion you got to see Izo up close: a little bit hazy mind you. “You’re so pretty.” you sighed. An amused smirk curled at the corners of his lips. 

“Perhaps those words would be better left said for when your nose isn’t rushing like a waterfall?” He teased, you could only laugh nervously in response, still very much dazed. Seeing as you made no effort to stand up, Izo dipped to carefully pick you up and carried you to the infirmary. “You are awfully clumsy.” he mused, as he carried you away with ease. 

“I’m no elegant swan like you..” you replied, taking in the scent of gunpowder that was masked behind the fragrance of wisteria. Izo blinked and chuckled deeply, letting it vibrate through your body. 

“That’s the first time I’ve been referred to as a swan.” Setting you down on one of the beds in the infirmary, he trailed a gloved hand slowly across your cheek “maybe you hit your head a little too hard, little duckling?” the tenderness in his eyes made your heart beat faster.

He really is like the wisteria..kind and beautiful.

-

Sighing, finally free from the dance of your awful memories. Your fingers were still playing with Izo’s hair. Why did he choose me? You thought somberly. He’s so wonderful. 

“Mm..you’re going to burn a whole in me like that.” Izo mumbled, cracking an eye open sleepily.

“You were awake!” you gasped loudly. That was another embarrassing moment to add to the files. Withdrawing your hair from his hair, Izo grabbed it and pressed his lips against it. 

“Mm. I think we can stay in bed a little longer.” Izo hummed, pulling you against him, turning the tables and lacing his hand lazily through your hair. “You look troubled.” he whispered, locking eyes with you hoping his eyes could search for the answer.

“Why did you choose me?” you asked quietly. Izo closed his eyes slowly, not saying a word and rose from the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Izo?” your chest felt tight with anxiety, why did he choose you? Swinging your legs out of the bed placing them on the cold wooden floor.

He turned back to you and held out his hand to you. His hair still hanging over his shoulders and sleep was no longer present in his eyes, they looked at you with the same tenderness he always did. “Dance with me.” he asked, though it sounded more of an order than a request. Gingerly you reached to accept his strong hand and he pulled you gently onto your feet. Stumbling from the motion but he steadied you against his chest.

“There is...there's no music-” you mumbled nervously, you had never danced with Izo before. You certainly didn’t plan to dance with him in your bed clothes either. 

“The sound of our heartbeats as one is music enough, don’t you think?” he replied softly against your ear, making your whole body quiver from the warmth of this breath, cupping both of your hands bringing them to his lips as he guided you close to him. Keeping hold of one hand and placing the other on his shoulder as he rested his on your waist. That’s not fair..he’s so smooth!

He lead you around the room, spinning you every few steps and pulling you flush against him, nuzzling his face slowly against yours. The weight of his love passing through to you with every motion. It made your heart race and your body felt so light.

“Izo..you didn’t answer me.” you finally choked out. You needed to know.

“..Why? More like when..” Izo hummed, dipping you suddenly. Holding you in limbo and stared down at you with his powerful gaze “When I first met you. You were such a breath of fresh air.” he announced, pulling you back up into his embrace “Your sweet smile was an arrow straight through my heart. I was a bundle of nerves-”

“You were a bundle of nerves?! I humiliated myself-” you grimaced loudly “you were always so calm and collected.” you groaned.

“You were a little clumsy. It was endearing.” Izo laughed, “just made me strive to be a peacock even more. Fanning my feathers if you will.” a light hue tinged his ears as he admitted his flirting secret. 

“I guess we were both a couple of fools,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him resting your head against his chest listening to the gentle beat of his heart “just one of us hid it alot better.” you teased. Izo kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tighter. 

“You once referred to me as a swan..did you know swans mate for life?” he said, guiding your face to look at him “will you be with me forever?”

“Of course my sweet! I would accept no other.” you smiled brightly, sighing into Izo’s passionate kiss. He really is perfect.

[ragnvindrbrainrot]

"Battles aren't the only things I like you know?"

Character: Childe

Request: Traveller shows up to their scheduled weekly fight with Childe only to be surprised with a date instead

Warnings: implied violence, catcalling, tooth rotting fluff

Words: around 730

[[this is kind of just a bulleted ficlet bc the feels hit me when i was typing up the hcs lmaoo

also im sorry this took 7383883 years 😔 the italics is traveller/you talking]]

Childe is waiting excitedly at the entrance to the Golden House upon your arrive and when he spots you approaching he bounces away from the wall towards you

"How about something different this week my comrade? Like a date with just the two of us perhaps?"

A date? With Childe? Somehow you doubt he's telling the truth, but when you glance for Paimon's opinion she's already left you alone with him

"Oh? What am I planning, nothing bad comrade or at least not in my opinion hahaha."

He's pretty hurt at the suspicion no cap but Childe isn't surprised either considering his past interactions with you during the rite of parting

Once you reluctantly agree to his proposal thinking to stop any schemes the fatui could be plotting now Childe eagerly whisks you off and away from the Golden House and into Liyue Harbour

The first thing Childe does once the two of you arrive at the Harbour is direct you towards Wanmin restaurant with a mischievous smile

"Come on comrade! I know you can move faster than this haha, I thought you wanted to find out what I, Tartaglia, was up too?"

Yeah the dumbass taunts you forgetting it won't help with the suspicion you hold rip

You stop at Wanmin for like two minutes while Childe talks to Xiangling and exchanges mora for what looks like a,,, picnic basket???

Maybe he was dragging you out to one of the elemental bosses instead of sparring? It wouldn't be strange for Childe to want you to sit and eat while he shows off after all

But no. He just takes your hand in his and drags you off towards the gardens near Yujing Terrace a little smile on his face and a cheerful tune leaving his lips

You're unsure when it happened but at some point during your picnic you relaxed and started laughing at Childe's jokes and flushing when he'd flirt with you

Either way the food runs out and Childe jumps up offering you a hand making a quip that Xiangling would kill him if they lost her picnic basket and cutlery

"One last thing comrade, then you can tell me your answer about dating me okay?"

He hesitantly twines his fingers with yours, an awkward little grin dancing across his face as if you hadn't seen him bloody post spar before but the thought of denying him doesn't cross your mind and so you go

Childe is probably squealing with glee inside lol

The sky is slowly turning into a golden hue as the sun makes its way towards setting while Childe leads you back across the bridge and down towards the docks

But as the two of you stop at the end of a dock and go to sit down a sharp whistling catcall rings out towards you causing you to jump and tense with embarrassment

"I'll be right back my comrade, just wait for me okay?"

Childe doesn't wait for your response before he's stalking away with his face twisted into the unsettling grin of a monster toying with its prey

He's only gone for a few minutes but by the time it takes Childe to come back your hit with the realisation that

Oh. He was serious about this being a date, and that you'd gotten so comfortable any suspicions you'd had washed awY at some point during the pst few hours

"You, you really want to date me? I didn't realise you uh."

"Could feel things other than bloodlust and affection for my family?" Childe teases while flopping down on the dock next to you

Childe props his arm up on his knee, leaning his head on his hand and staring at you with a soft, vulnerable look on his face

"I really do like you comrade," the sun touches the water lighting Childe up in a golden halo and causing his eyes to shine bright like diamonds

"Battles aren't the only things I like you know? My family is another and..." He trails off, gently cupping your face with his hands.

"You're the rest my dear." He whispers, seconds before you feel Childe's lips on yours and melt into his arms.

[the-strangest-person]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171414/chapters/61611304

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[frostysunflowers]

So as I got a pretty big surge of new followers last night (hey hi hello! 👋) I thought I’d take the opportunity to shamelessly plug my Tomorrow is another day (Peace in Our Time) series cos hey, I’m quite proud of it - it’s what I’m most known for so yeah, check it out!

Excerpt:

Tony awakens to the sound of soft voices, hushed but animated as they chatter away in excited whispers. He can’t quite make out what they’re saying but the noise is soothing and exhilarating all at once.

He groans then as his body becomes more aware, feels the bone-deep aches and the stinging of skin as he shifts on the bed he is lying on. He feels the room go still around him and the voices immediately stop and he instantly misses them, feels such a sense of loss that he actually wants to cry until-

''Mr Stark?''

''Daddy?''

The voices overlap each other and it’s the sweetest sound Tony has ever heard. He cracks open one eye, squinting slightly against the brightness, and then the other and lets out a gasp at the sight hovering above him.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1359505

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[rookieinbflat]

Stowaways

AN: I feel much better about this short fic than my last one, so I hope you guys like it too!

Ethan x MC (Levin Stern)

WC: ~2000

Levin is asleep in the front seat of Ethan’s Jaguar, she’s not been sleeping well since the start of the second trimester of her pregnancy, often complaining of headaches, nausea and back pain. All very common for a woman of her age, height and weight carrying twins but nonetheless, Ethan feels completely and utterly helpless to do anything to ease her pain. He tries to ease the uncomfort as much as he can but there’s only so much raspberry sorbet and shoulder massages can do. Levin is grateful never the less, she knows how far out of his way he goes to please her, like going to the linen store to get a soft blanket and cushion to keep in his car for drives like this. The older doctor doesn’t mind it when she falls asleep in the car, he loves driving, it's cathartic for him. He would drive across the country if he could. He plays Clouds by Debussy on the car's speakers and though he is yet to find enough scientific journals to confirm the long term neural effects of classical prenatal music exposure, he’s sure it can't hurt.

They’re going to spend the weekend with Levin’s family in Fairhaven, she gets very homesick when she’s feeling ill and this week has been riddled with headaches and cramps. So he took the weekend off to spend it with her, even though she’s fully capable of driving and it’s still very safe, Ethan feels much more at ease when he accompanies her on trips like this. Her parents live on a small block of land only a few minutes drive out of Fairhaven, the land is lush and green and whenever they’re there, Levin and Ethan feel immensely at peace. The stress and weight of the hospital are not on their shoulders, they spend their days on the farm soaking up the sun or horseback riding, though Levin might have to wait a bit longer before she can get back in the saddle. Ethan loves it here, the smell of fresh cut grass is his favourite but it’s not something you smell often in Boston. Levin’s older siblings are spread across the world, so it’s only the four youngsters occupying the house but Isa has made sure that Levin’s room remains untouched, awaiting her next visit patiently. Ethan loves Levin’s teenage room, the decor is green and lush like a forest with stunning photos she’s taken from her global living adorning the walls, lit up by strings of fairy lights. He’d never imagined he’d love the look of a room like hers but that’s what it is: hers. Ethan feels like he’s taken a step inside her mind, the serene part of her brain, that dreams in the sound of crashing waves and foggy mornings, dew on the long grass and rain hitting the roof.

Ethan loves Levin the most when they’re here.

The drive to Fairhaven is without trouble or excitement when they arrive at the small hobby farm just outside of town, Ethan shakes Levin’s shoulder gently, surprised she wasn’t awoken by the bumpy trip down the dirt drive. Levin rubs her eyes and pulls on her scarf before stepping out of the car and as if on cue, the front door to the farmhouse blasts open and Isa and Edda run up to greet the pair. They’re about to attack Levin with affection until they stop just a couple of metres short, remembering the two extra guests, stowed away beneath layers of skin and cashmere.

“Woah, your belly is really big,” Isa has a look of awe across her face and Ethan chuckles, moving to tousle her hair. She has obviously dressed herself today as she sports a bright silver skirt with farm boots and a Batman shirt.

“Our little stowaways are getting pretty big aren’t they?” Isa wraps her hand in Ethan’s as he leads the Stern women back inside the house, where Levin’s mother is now standing by the door, holding the dogs from escaping out into the yard.

“It’s rude to call out someone’s weight you big dork,” Levin retorts to the ten-year-old who laughs softly watching Levin navigate the stairs going up to the porch with a careful pace, leaning back into her steps.

Edda pipes up beside her, she had the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes and anyone who’s ever seen them says so, “I think you look gorgeous Levy,” Edda is beautiful inside and out, she’s a soft, empathetic soul and a bit of a sad sack at times, but she levels out the craziness of the Stern clan. Levin squeezes her hand as she makes her way over to the door, her mum enveloping her in a warm hug, she smells like Christmas morning - cinnamon and nutmeg. She must be making cinnamon rolls.

“Oh my lord, Levin, look at you!” Kina exclaims and holds her daughter at arm's length, Levin will be the first of her children to give birth to twins, “How many weeks now?” She asks as she leads Levin into the warmth of the farmhouse.

“Twenty-six weeks, not long to go now,” Levin replies as she walks towards the kitchen, on the hunt for something - anything to eat. The pregnancy cravings have got her eating more now than when she stress ate her way through the medical entrance exams and the final season of True Blood. Levin plants herself on one of the cushioned stools surrounding the kitchen bench, pulling a banana from the fruit basket less Ethan throw a fit over her not meeting prenatal nutritional needs. “Actually, I was hoping you could come up to the city next weekend, Ethan is going away for a medical conference and I’ll need help setting up everything in the new house,” Levin asks Kina as she brews a pot of tea, Edda has disappeared but Isa remains faithfully and loyally attached to her sisters side.

“Can I come? I promise I’ll be the biggest help!” She looks up at Levin with puppy dog eyes.

Levin has already demolished the banana by now, “Gotta ask mum dorkface, she’s the one that’s got to deal with you,” She hands the banana peel to Isa who dutifully disposes of the scrap in the compost bin.

Ethan is leaning against the kitchen counter chucking to himself, Levin has Isa completely entranced, ready to go to war for her fearless older sister, no task is too big or small for Isa to show her unending adoration. He knows that Isa has the same effect on his Rookie, who just last week, cried when she heard that Isa had the flu and she couldn’t go and take care of her little sister.

“I’m sure we could find something for you to do at the new house, maybe you could help set up the nursery?” Kina replies and Isa squeals with excitement, scaring the dogs and every human within a five-mile radius.

Ethan helps Kina make lunch, roast chicken with all the accompaniments and they take it out to the dining room to serve everyone. Marti, who is sixteen now has come out of her room to socialise, she’s studying hard to get into sports medicine and the ACTs are coming up soon. Jos, Isa’s twin brother, only speaks in four-word sentences and doesn’t sit still for long, he’s got pretty intense ADHD and keeping his attention for more than five minutes is more challenging than anything Ethan has encountered in his medical career. They sit around the table and debate on what to do for the rest of the afternoon - Isa wants to play board games, Edda wants to play lawn bowls outside, Kina thinks they should all sit in the sunroom and paint. Levin’s mother is an amazing artist, using art as her therapy on a daily basis, more often since she quit smoking cigarettes last year.

They decide on board games on the porch, so that Edda and Jos can run around as much as they please when they finish up with lunch, Levin forgoes boardgames to nap on the hammock, its the comfiest she’s felt in days. Isa and Ethan set up a game of Scrabble and as the game progresses, he’s sure this kid will run the world one day. How the hell does she know the word ‘liaison’?

“Are you excited for the babies?”

Ethan puts down his next tiles then looks up towards Isa, “I’m extremely excited but I’m also a little nervous,” he tells her truthfully, “I didn’t grow up in a large family like you and Levin, I haven’t had much experience with babies,” it almost feels like he’s talking to Levin when they have conversations like this, it’s like she has managed to clone herself into a pocket-sized version of Levin, though this version is almost more sassy than the original.

“I think you’ll be a good dad and me and Edda and Marti will help you, we know all about babies,” she nods with strong assurance, “plus you’re a doctor so you’re super smart so you can be good with babies,” Ethan chuckles at this as he tallies up the new score.

“I know a lot of babies in theory but the practice is a new field for me, Isa, I can tell you how many fingers and toes they have right now, but I don’t know how to stop them from crying when they come out,”

A look of wonder crosses Isa’s soft brown eyes, “You know what they look like right now?” Ethan can tell she’s completely forgotten about the board game as she leans across the table, “You have to tell me.”

Ethan leans across the table now too, resting his weight on his elbows, “Well,” he begins, “they have a thin layer of hair over them called lanugo which keeps them warm and they can hear things fairly clearly now - they know how to cover their ears if there’s a loud sound out here in the environment. They also open their eyes soon and they’ve fingerprints now as well,” the more he goes through the specifics of the babies life in utero, the more Isa’s face lights up, Ethan can see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to figure out what they look like and what it all means.

By the time they begin to finish their conversation, it’s well into the afternoon and almost time for the kids to wash up before dinner, the Scrabble game is long forgotten. Levin wakes from her slumber on the hammock and makes her way over to where Ethan is sitting, gently perching herself on his lap.

“You know we still haven’t thought about baby names,” Levin muses, interrupting Ethan from the trail of kisses he’s laying along her soft shoulders and neck. They haven’t asked the obstetrician about the sex of the twins, they want it to be a surprise.

“Hm, I guess you’re right, I haven’t been thinking about the names I do like so much as the ones I don’t,” he tells her, pulling her long hair back so he can kiss more of her décolletage, “but for what it’s worth, I like the name, Allegra,” Levin ponders this.

“I love that, I think its a gorgeous name, I like the name Laurence for a boy, Laurie for short,” she is hoping for two boys but she knows a girl would please Isa the most.

“Like Little Women,” Ethan points out, one of Levin’s favourite childhood books, she still keeps a copy given to her by her great aunt on the bookshelf, its pages yellow with age. Ethan would be happy with any combination of boys or girls, he just can't wait for the next and possibly most challenging chapter of his life to start. They sit out on the deck for hours, talking until Levin is almost falling asleep again. He takes her into the bedroom, turns on the strings of fairy lights and tucks a sleeping Levin into bed before sliding in next to her, the room is calm and peaceful with the soft, white glow of the lights as he places a kiss on her hair, “I love you, Rookie,” he murmurs into her hair, she smells like peaches and vanilla, “and our little stowaways.”

[riverheadcf-blog]

Sneak Peek...

Coming very soon...

[weepingstar]

A House of Vice

(just so you know i’ve started posting on ao3 so… there’s that) 

Credence was never allowed sugar or sweet foods when being brought up by Mary Lou, can distantly remember a time before his adoption where he’d stolen fresh doughnuts at Coney Island once, but other than that, his palette was a decidedly savoury one (if one can call gruel and weak soup savoury). Devoid of flavour entirely? Possible. But especially devoid of sugar, Credence sometimes wondered whether Mary Lou would take a stand against that too, accuse it of being devil’s work, or whether she already had and he wasn’t aware of it, had missed that particular leaflet.

Upon moving in with Mr. Graves (and thinking of just how quickly that happened makes Credence’s head spin), Credence quickly develops an unrepentant sweet tooth. Not by small measures either, but by bounding leaps, until Graves sternly tells Credence he can’t have sugary treats for every meal, as they’re precisely that, treats.

Nevertheless, Graves finds himself indulging his dear boy daily, somehow ends up walking home in order to stop at expensive French patisseries instead of apparating straight back. Visits a few wizarding sweet shops too if he can, as Credence had recently developed a particular love of liquorice snaps, and would munch on them happily in Graves’ study. Graves pretending to look over case files as he watched Credence’s delicate toes curl in pleasure.

When returning home, and upon opening the large door to his brownstone, Graves will give Credence his coat to hang, and then present him with whatever treat he’s been unable to resist buying today, and Credence blushes every time. Graves wonders if Credence’s inevitable cavities and tummy ache are worth it for the pleasure it gives him to see how prettily Credence flushes whenever he graciously receives his little gifts.

One evening Graves brings back cakes which turn Credence’s teeth gold from the icing, and Graves’ face red from laughing at the shock. Another evening, he finds British Chocolate Frogs which were a particular joy because Credence had to chase one around the living room, picking him up before he melted in front of the fire. Although Graves knows he had been the one to enforce the restriction of sweets, he is the one who buys them daily for his secret darling. His precious boy still hasn’t gotten over his aversion to the outside world, prefers to stay in unless he goes out on the arm of his Mr. Graves. It’s Graves who brings him Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and has to suffer through a sardine flavoured one, trying his best to remain dignified in the face of such vile circumstances. Finding his Credence’s favourites become less like a game and just a way to make the boy smile everyday, although his smiles are much easier to come by now.

On a Friday, Graves will bring home Chocolate Cauldrons from the wizarding bakery near work, telling Credence they now know him by name, isn’t that terrible? Is Credence not repentant for what he makes Graves do? Tweaking the boy’s ear when he apologises quietly at the same time as trying to snatch away the package from Graves. In the mornings, it’s Graves who always orders Effie the house elf to make up Credence’s hot chocolate and take it up to him. On evenings when Graves knows he’ll be late home, he sends word to let Credence know, tells him there’s some Sugar Quills and two Cauldron Cakes in the sweets cupboard, and he can have those if he wishes to wait up for him. The boy always does, and he’s often asleep on Graves’ return, chocolate crumbs on the side table. Graves might indulge himself too, in carrying the boy upstairs to tuck into bed instead of simply shaking him awake, he supposes that’s his vice that he’s learning to live with just as Credence is suffering from his addiction to sugar mice.

Now, one thing that his terrible, clever, sneaky, wonderful Credence had done in order to get around his awfully strict rule of sweets as treats (and with the way Credence acted, Graves almost felt guilty for giving the boy such a resriction), is Credence begins to bake. Asks Graves one Saturday how they make pain au chocolat like the ones Graves buys (tells him how they’re the best, how Graves always buys such delicious pastries for him, how lucky he is). Graves, always eager to please his Credence, always indulgent, buys Credence a cookery book, finds him the ingredients and tells Effie to keep an eye on him, to call if something catches on fire.

Several unexpected pleasures come about from this, firstly, as Graves isn’t partial (more like completely averse to) baking, the only apron in the house is from an older female relative. Credence doesn’t seem to mind and drifts around with his frilly apron on, bow tied neatly at his little waist and scalloped edges looping elegantly around his neck. Graves needs a moment to collect himself, and then announces he’s decided to work in the kitchen this evening, to keep an eye on Credence, when Effie pipes up to say that was her job, she thought, Graves quickly dismisses her. Tells Credence to take his time, bake as much as he might like. Another certain pleasure is a little flour gets on Credence’s elegant nose, and a little stripe down his cheek. Graves makes sure he’s the one to brush it off, after the appropriate amount of time has passed, just after a few hours of fawning over his adorable Credence who bustles about the kitchen in a feminine apron and oblivious to the flour on his face. After that, Graves tells Credence to come closer, brushes his thumb over Credence’s face slowly, softly, watches the flush of embarrassment spread as he brushes off the flour.

Credence’s baking goes from small individual disasters to very quickly the neatest and sweetest little delights in all of New York. However, Graves is well aware Credence usually aims to make a baker’s dozen, and he once comes home to find only eight such treats, as well as an unfinished dinner from Credence, who, with shifty eyes, tells Graves he isn’t too hungry, sheepishly murmurs that he has a little stomach ache. Graves goes to the kitchen to retrieve his Exhibit A - a half eaten custard tart, Credence squirming in his seat, Graves asks Credence if this was why he couldn’t finish his dinner, tells Credence he won’t have his dear boy lying to him. Credence’s eyelashes sticking to one another as fat tears spring forth, Credence very much ashamed of his behaviour to his darling Mr. Graves, who has only ever been kind to him, looked after him, and he lied like an ungrateful brat about such a silly thing! Asks Mr. Graves if he could possibly forgive him while held tightly to Graves’ chest, the older man bending to the will of Credence as soon as the first tear dropped, nodding frantically and trying to get his sweet boy to stop crying, mind quickly considering a slice of tiramisu in the cold pantry

Later on, once the two of them retire to Graves’ study, Credence having apologised and now intent on staying close to Graves, Graves having accepted his apology and very much regretting bringing the issue up, also intent on keeping his Credence close. The two (partially oblivious) star cross’d lovers settle into reading for the evening and growing steadily closer on the couch while pretending to ignore that such a thing is occurring, even with Credence’s feet on Graves’ lap, being slowly rubbed by the older man.

Resigned to his fate, Graves invests in some enchanted toothpaste and asks Credence to please consider Graves’ elderly heart when he wants to skip on eating all of his greens. Credence nods soberly and swears to be good for Mr. Graves, taking the enchanted toothpaste in one hand, while clutching a few squares of Turkish delight in the other.

Graves thinks that as his Credence has given into his vices, perhaps he should too, asks Credence to stay up for him more often, carrying his boy to bed more times than not, even if he’s awake, awake and blushing at Graves’ attentions, quietly asking to be let down but not really meaning it. Lays a kiss on Credence’s brow and placing a sugar mouse on his bedside table for the morning.

[sandpumpkin]

Pumpkin Post

I said I was going to do angst then decided against it. 

So. 

It’s another fluff box. 

Rules here.

Please pick one character and one number from this list. Only 10 slots.

Different ways to say I love you