#Especially with mae needing help putting in and taking out braids

[pastelsugar6w6]

The sensuality behind Elves undoing each other's braids. It's essentially foreplay to them (in the right context). Taking apart plaits piece by piece and setting aside jewelry to leave their partner bare for their eyes only. Running fingers through their hair like silk and pulling them in by it 😫

[doodle-pops]

Having A S/O With Curly Hair

Headcanons: Maedhros, Celegorm, Fingon, Turgon, Finarfin, Thingol, Beleg, Elrond

A/N: A little something for all my curly-haired readers :) Enjoy!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Maedhros

I headcanon his hair being luscious curls, so Mae definitely knows how to style your hair. Don’t worry about detangling, he has that down perfectly and will even listen as you explain the hair products and oils you use to keep your hair soft and silky. He’ll even suggest some of his own home remedies that he uses to keep his hair tangle-free.

Mae would have tons of hairpins and clips, ribbons and hair-holders just for you whenever he had to style your hair. The issue is that your hair takes way longer than his to handle. A few times, he had got his hand stuck in the locks in your curls. One minute you’ll hear him chatting lively, and the next, he’s silent. That’s when you know he ran into some problems. It’s funny if you asked him about it because he’ll reply with, “No, no, it’s alright, I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.” It takes him a long time before he gets his hand out and asks for your assistance to hold parts of your hair.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Celegorm

Now don’t get me started, he might not appear as someone who knows much about fancy hairdos, but the minute he sees how springy your hair is, he is suddenly the best hairstylist ever. Whenever you have to style your hair, you would see Tyelko popping into the room so he can attempt some braid he learned from other hunters.

The look of determination on his face just to part your hair in sections is pure bliss. He takes styling your hair as seriously as hunting; do not disturb him. Either he bites your hand or smacks it with the comb (like most of our mothers). The problem is, as much as he styles your hair in a fancy braid, your hair is still tangled underneath. Even when your hair is loose, his hands are always running through it and then getting stuck. You feel tugs against your scalp, and as you look up, there is Tyelko fighting a battle with your curls wrapped around his fingers. “Your hair is always trying to eat me; it's hungry like you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Fingon

He got curly hair just like you, so you’re partners in crime. Fingon allows you to use all his hair products and home remedies for detangling and achieving soft and silky curls. Most of the time, it’s him who’s doing all the hair styling, whether it’s simple or extravagant, he does your hair. You don’t have to worry about him tugging and pulling it if he gets stuck while styling. Also, this means that you get the best hair accessories since he knows all the good ones for curly hair.

He understands the struggles of curly hair, especially when it’s brushed out and becomes one giant puff of floof. One day when you need to wash your hair, he’s there with all the shampoos and oils and purposefully takes you out to see your hair puffy after being airdried. Don’t worry, he pities you and would lend you his ribbons and hairpins to keep the wildness tamed. However, when he isn’t styling your hair and his fingers are running through the curls, they do get caught and he’ll just look at your hair before commenting, “Your hair doesn’t want us to part. It’s keeping me trapped!”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Turgon

Poor baby has watched his elder brother with all his voluminous hair and wonders how he keeps it tamed; now has to do the same with you. Turgon is making trips to his brother constantly to beg for assistance so he could braid your hair without causing discomfort—he bought many pretty hairpins and clips for you to use. He learned the hard way that using a brush on curly hair isn’t the best option.

Turgon treats your hair delicately and only touches it when you request his help, other than that, he’s watching in awe as you handle your hair with ease. He’ll sit for hours and throw tons of questions so he can understand how to deal with the volume ad curls. From there, he’ll grow braver and attempt to apply simple small braids to your hair and put some flowers in between. He’s so eager to attempt fancier braids in your hair, thus, he puts a lot of effort into spending time learning and practising how to care for your curls. The bravest act he’ll manage to do without worrying would be patting your hair. “It’s so delicate and pillowy, so many curls…”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Finarfin

He’s amazed and in awe by the volume of curls you’re bringing to the table dearie. Even when your style your hair, you always leave sections open for the natural curls to be on show, he’s gawking. You’ll see his fingers twitching to reach out and touch a few strands because he’s never seen someone with so many curls. Finarfin considers your hair to be clouds at this point because it appears fluffy.

Finarfin would sit for hours and just adore the way you comb your hair with ease and then become flustered when you request his assistance. He’ll become stunned and point at himself to clarify that you want him to style your hair or comb it out. You’ll teach him how to section your hair to make it easier for styling and detangling, and in return, he’ll gift you a ton of hair accessories. One day, you’ll receive a box full of beautiful hair clips and ribbons to wear in your hair. “I hope these can make up for how beautiful your hair is.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Thingol

He acts like your hair isn’t anything fancy or amazing, but deep down, he’s asking everyone who has curly hair for advice and then threatening to stay silent. This way, when he approaches you to style your hair with ease, he’s a professional at it. But it doesn’t stop his fingers from becoming ensnared by your untamed curls whenever he becomes a little too proud of his accomplishments.

Sometimes, he’ll sit quietly with a glass of wine and observe as you make parts in your hair and add twists and braids, or he would hover. Handing you clips and ribbons, combs and pins while fluttering about like some bee, ensuring that it fits, and you look beautiful. That way, he’ll know to order more hair accessories as gifts. Thingol’s favourite moment is when your hair is loose and free-flowing in the wind; whether it cascades down your back or stops at your shoulder, he marvels at all the richness of the curls. Using your hair on him is a good way to avoid arguments, just come with your hair open and he’ll lose focus midway because your hair is distracting. “It’s like you have a natural crown on your head all the time.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Beleg

Another hunter who wants to eagerly experiment on your hair with new hairstyles he learned from all the other guards during his time away. He’ll even politely ask the princess if she could teach him some braids for curly hair so that he can reciprocate on yours. When he returns, he comes bearing gifts and eager fingers to get tangled in your curls. 

In the middle of him talking himself through the process he learned, you’ll hear his voice growing silent as he messes up a braid or got his finger ensnared. His soft voice followed by a nervous chuckle will be heard as he calls you for help. “Ah…help please?” His favourite times are washing day. He’ll sit and help you shampoo and oil the roots of your scalp, carefully sectioning your hair and listening to your advice. When you’re finished, he’ll offer to detangle and give you some simple braids to keep your hair neat.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Elrond

He knows how to handle your hair professionally and with delicate care; you’ll feel as though he’s putting you to sleep as he brushes and combs through all the tangles. No head jerking or crying out in pain as he detangles and braids, it’s smooth sailing. Just know that Elrond had read lots of books on how to handle curly hair before attempting to battle with yours.

On leisure days, as you both are sitting or cuddling, his fingers would comb through your curls despite knowing they would become trapped. His fascination with your curls and their springiness of them is never-ending; he’ll give tiny tugs to them as he becomes playful. “Beautiful hair for a beautiful lover. Unique just like you,” he’ll whisper before planting a kiss on your floof of curls. You can always count on Elrond to style your hair in the most extravagant braids and styles, accompanied by beautiful accessories he commissioned for you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @hoshinokurasa @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 15

summary:  what if riza never went to war?  riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 13 | read on ao3

1914

well this is life in colour

today feels like no other

“Hello, Riza,” Gracia Hughes greeted warmly, hugging the host tightly after stepping into her home. “How have you been?”.

“I’ve been well, Gracia. Thank you for asking. What about yourself?”

“The same,” she smiled, glancing down at her daughter, who had just tugged on her hand to get her mother’s attention.

“Mummy?” Elicia asked. “Where’s Mia?”

Riza smiled at Hughes' daughter, and Gracia smiled at her eagerness.

“She’s inside, Elicia,” Riza revealed, crouching to her level. “Let me take your jacket and you can go in and see her if you like? She’s in the living room with Uncle Roy.”

Shortly after her birth, Maes and Gracia had asked Roy and Riza if they’d like to be the godparents of Elicia. They both readily accepted and returned the favour with Mia. The titles of aunt and uncle came along shortly after that, and it stuck.

At that piece of information, Elicia’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “Okay!” 

“Aunt Rebecca is already in there too,” Riza announced as she eased Elicia’s coat gently off her shoulders. Elicia’s eyes lit up even more. She was a big fan of Rebecca.

“Yay!” she clapped happily.

 “I love this jacket, Elicia. It’s very beautiful.” She beamed at her Aunt Riza. 

“I picked it out myself. I like the flowers on it!” she exclaimed.

“You have very good taste.”

Elicia’s eyes positively sparkled, and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink in her pride.

“Head on through, Honey,” Riza gestured. “They’re just in there.”

Elicia was a very confident child, not much phased her, however she tentatively walked to the living room and peeked through the door to see who was there waiting for her. When she spotted Roy, her posture straightened, and that confidence returned.

“Uncle Roy!” she cried happily, running into the room.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Gracia added once Riza had straightened to stand.

“Thank you for coming. I appreciate it, especially after having to reschedule.”

The Elric brothers were out of town for longer than anticipated and then Roy and Riza had to move to Central, so the dinner party she’d arranged with Maes was quickly forgotten about and put on the back burner until they were settled.

“Of course,” Gracia announced. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world,” she smiled warmly. “I brought some wine for the three ladies,” Gracia announced.

Just then, Maes opened the front door and entered the hallway, shivering from the cool spring air outside, but sighing in relief from the sudden warmth.

“It’s getting warmer out there, so that’s something!” Maes hugged his arms tight to his body to warm himself before shrugging out of his jacket. “Riza!” he cried with a grin, enveloping her in a tight hug. “How are you?”

“I’m well, Maes,” she smiled. “And thank you for the gift, Gracia. I really appreciate it… but, I won’t be able to drink it tonight, unfortunately. It will just be you and Rebecca on the wine tonight,” Riza revealed, her eyes sparkling as she watched the two of them furrow their brows. Gracia was the one who reached the conclusion first, but Maes was not long after her. 

“Are you pregnant, Riza Mustang?” Gracia gasped. Riza nodded vigorously. “Oh, my goodness. Congratulations!” Riza was enveloped in another tight hug by Gracia. Maes joined in as well and the three of them embraced happily in Riza’s hallway.

“Another bun in the oven, huh?” Maes asked, kissing Riza’s cheek. “Congrats! Where’s Roy?”

“In the living room,” Riza told him.

Without another word, Maes entered and shook his hand. Riza watched as Roy stood and Maes pulled him into a tight hug. Roy smiled, clapping his back in thanks.

“I’ll take this out of your way then,” Gracia announced, placing the bottle of wine back in the bag she’d brought with her. “We can save it for after the baby is born. How about that?” she grinned.

“I would love that. Thank you.”

“Would you like any help in the kitchen?” Gracia offered.

“No thank you, I’m all right. Make yourself at home,” Riza offered, showing her through to their living room where the excited chatter continued now that Maes was in on the secret that she was pregnant.

There was another knock at the door, followed by hushed voices, so Gracia excused herself as Riza approached the door.

“Brother, stop fidgeting,” a rather metallic sounding voice stated sharply.

“I’m not, Al,” another replied. They both sounded so young.

“You are, I’m watching you do it. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“I’m not nervous,” the boy spat.

“It’s just the Colonel,” a female voice replied, her voice hushed.

“I know who it is, Winry,” the boy grumbled. “And I’m not nervous!”

Riza opened the door and was slightly taken aback when a large metal suit of armour filled her vision. The metallic voice gasped as the door opened, promptly straightening in posture as he saw Riza. That must be Alphonse. Next to him stood a small teenager. His long bangs covered his forehead, dropping down towards his eyes. Matching his fringe, was a long braid that extended down his back. Edward. The girl though, Riza didn't know. Her long blonde hair was gently brushed to the side in the spring breeze. In her hands she clutched a basket with a cover over it, and from the door Riza could faintly smell cooked apples.

She’d learned about everything that had happened with Edward and Alphonse Elric. Edward was wearing a red jacket and gloves, but Riza caught a glimpse of his automail underneath the cloth. She knew Alphonse was a soul bonded to this suit of armour before her. Riza was fully aware they’d been the victim of human transmutation, but seeing them both before her now made the news hit home even harder than it had before. Edward still looks so young. It was a horrifying thought, and Riza’s heart sank a little. They’d been even younger than they were now when they performed the taboo. 

Ever since she’d discovered what had happened to them, Riza just wanted to give them both a hug. Roy had told her his plan to keep what they did a secret in exchange for Edward’s loyalty to his cause, but he also revealed that he would hate it if the top brass ever found out what happened to them. Alphonse would be taken away and studied while they tried to figure out how it was possible. Edward would be kept under close watch and wouldn’t have as much freedom to go out and travel the country to find out what happened to them both. Roy liked to gripe about how much of a headache Edward gave him, but she knew he cared for the two boys, and Riza couldn’t think of a better person to look out for them both. She was glad they had Roy’s support behind them.

Pushing down her strong maternal instinct for the moment, Riza smiled at the trio warmly. “Hello Edward, Alphonse. Come in,” she beckoned. Stepping aside, they both entered her home.

Despite the hushed conversation she’d heard before opening the door, Edward did look rather nervous, but he stepped forward and inside the house. Alphonse ducked carefully and stepped inside, filling her hallway, but managed to clear the ceiling with enough room to move comfortably.

“Good evening, Mrs. Mustang,” Alphonse greeted.

“Hello…” Edward greeted, unsure on how to proceed. It felt like he wanted to say something, then stopped himself. “Mrs. Mustang,” he finished sheepishly. Riza smiled at him, appreciative of his manners. Obviously, it would take some time for them to get used to it.

 “I do apologise,” Riza added as the girl entered after them. “But I don’t believe we’ve met before. Roy didn’t mention your friend here,” Riza announced kindly.

“My name is Winry,” she replied. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Mustang.” She shifted from foot to foot for a moment. “And sorry for turning up unannounced,” she fretted. “Mr. Hughes said it would be all right,” she explained.

Riza waved away her concerns. “The more the merrier,” she replied. There was more than enough food to go around as well, so an extra guest was no problem for Riza. “It’s a pleasure to meet the three of you,” she greeted. “And please, Riza is fine,” she insisted. “Everyone is in the living room just now.” Riza directed them to the correct door. “Would you like a drink?”

“Just water, please,” Edward replied.

“The same for me,” Winry requested politely.

“N – Nothing for me please, Mrs. Mus – I mean, Riza,” Alphonse stuttered.

“It’s all right, Alphonse,” she soothed him. “Roy told me what happened to you both.” Edward’s spine straightened, his face was stricken. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you instead.”

“That’s – That’s okay, Mrs. Mustang. Um, I – I mean we – would really appreciate it if…” Alphonse trailed off.

“If you didn’t say anything,” Edward finished. His eyebrow twitched in irritation. Given his relationship with Roy, something told Riza that Edward was annoyed at him for letting their secret slip.

“Don’t worry, boys,” Riza reassured them. “I’ve known about you two since before you got your automail, Edward.” The pair of them shared a look. “I’ve hoped for a while that I’d be able to meet you someday. How are you both? Are you all right?”

They shared another look. They were surprised by her concern, but her maternal instinct wouldn’t rest. At every mention of those boys, Riza couldn’t help but think about her own daughter, and how she couldn’t bear the thought if something like that happened to Mia.

“We’re… okay. Thank you.” Edward seemed genuinely surprised and his thanks were sincere.

“If there’s anything you need, just let me know,” Riza smiled, showing them the way into their living room. They were greeted warmly by her other guests and Riza left them to it, entering their kitchen.

“I brought something along with me,” Winry announced shyly as Edward and Alphonse entered to speak to the other guests. “I baked an apple pie.”

“Oh, Winry. Thank you so much. I thought something smelled delicious. Would you like to bring it through?”

Winry nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

“Just put it wherever you find a space,” Riza told her. “I can’t wait to dig in.”

“Thank you. I hope it’s all right. Edward loves it, but I think he’s a little biased.” She chuckled, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Riza smiled knowingly, recognising that look.

“I’m sure it will be perfect.”

“Would you like a hand with cooking?” Winry offered.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for your offer. Go through and enjoy the company. I’ve got things handled in here.”

“Okay, thank you, Mrs. Must - I mean Riza.”

*          *          *

Riza busied herself with cooking dinner, oblivious to what was happening in the rest of her house. She heard laughter in the background as she worked, and it made her smile. She was pleased everyone was getting along. Growing up, she’d never had a house as warm of this. She never thought she ever would. To hear such happiness emanate from her living room as all her guests enjoyed themselves made her heart warmer than any fire could.

Well, except maybe Roy’s. He always managed to make her feel safe, loved, and happy. To this day she couldn’t believe her luck. The attractive, brilliant, and overall incredible Roy Mustang had fallen in love with sad, lonely, and plain Riza. Sometimes she’d wondered if it had been out of pity, especially after they were first married.

Her father had asked Roy to take care of her on his deathbed. That request still bewildered Riza because Berthold had never shown love or care to her after her mother's death. It was as if he’d forgotten about Riza completely. Riza wondered if it was out of guilt, but didn’t hold out much hope for that reasoning. He probably only wanted Roy to protect her body, not her as a person. After all, she’d been turned into her father’s own personal notebook. The research on her back was more important than Riza.

Being the gentleman he was, Roy had asked Riza to marry him. Riza had often thought it was only because he’d felt it was his duty, but she hadn’t wanted to tie him down like that. So, she questioned everything, because how could she be loved so much by him? It had to be an act. It had to be. He was young, and did the thing he thought was right. In the first few weeks Riza had been waiting for him to come to his senses and leave her, realising he’d made a mistake tying himself to her so young. Her father had drilled it into her that she was useless every day. How could someone so useless be loved by him? Slowly, Roy had chipped away at her walls and broken them down. Riza couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy in her childhood.

Then, the bomb was dropped when he’d been called up to serve in Ishval. She’d been loved and cherished for six months, then he’d been roughly pulled away from her. He was going off to war. He could have been killed. Coupled with the hormones from her pregnancy, Riza had spent many days, not just nights, sitting in a depressive state, tears tracking down her cheeks. That was when she was at her lowest.

Rebecca dragged her out of that somewhat. She was taken on days out. They went shopping for Mia together to prepare for her birth. These trips led to lunches out or teas in coffee shops. Before Riza knew it, it was time for dinner. Rebecca invited her around to her apartment for dinner more often than not. Riza had been too tired from their busy days to make it home. Sometimes Rebecca drove her back to her cold, lonely apartment, but Riza always preferred sleeping at Rebecca’s. It helped to have some company.

“Hello,” Roy greeted as he kissed her temple, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He broke her from her ruminations, but Riza wasn’t going to complain about his more than welcome affections.

“Hello, you,” Riza smiled, looking over the timings on the recipe sheet in front of her. She set the kitchen timer for twenty minutes then relaxed against Roy’s chest. The last thing was being cooked and in twenty minutes, the food would be ready to serve. This was the first time she’d ever hosted a meal and was slightly nervous. She just wanted everything to go well.

“How are you doing?” His arms slipped from around her waist while Riza turned in his grasp. They settled on her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m fine.” She was a little bit tired, but not enough to put her off hosting for the night. 

“Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“I will Roy, don’t worry.” She kissed him softly. The grip on her waist tightened in response. “Everything is fine through here. What about through there?” she nodded towards the living room.

“Surprisingly, Edward Elric is good with kids.”

“He’s a kid himself. Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Because he has a terrible attitude that stinks to high heaven?”

Riza scoffed. “Only to you. He was perfectly polite when I met him.”

Roy grumbled under his breath, a scowl forming on his face.

“Maybe if you weren’t so hard on him, he would be nicer to you.”

“I have been nice,” Roy stated defensively. “I gave them the freedom they needed, didn’t I?”

“Followed by a smug look and a snarky comment, no doubt,” Riza teased.

Roy’s scowl deepened but Riza just laughed at him. She pulled away, moving away to cut the last of the carrots.

“Go back to entertaining our guests,” she dismissed him with an amused tone. “And try not to make Edward throttle you.”

Roy snorted. “I can’t make that promise,” he muttered.

Riza entered their living room with an amused smile. Laughter made its way through to her and she wondered what was so funny. Roy was scowling at Hughes – what was new there – while everyone was laughing, most likely at Roy’s expense.

“And then he was knocked flat on his ass,” Maes stated loudly before guffawing, while Rebecca joined in with him. Edward was cackling away while Alphonse’s laugh was slightly nervous, like he felt he probably shouldn’t be laughing. Gracia just smiled, but her attention was on her daughter and Mia. Riza’s heart melted at the sight of Winry sitting on the floor, Elicia in her lap, and Mia by her side as they played with Hayate.

Mia wasn’t laughing, though. Elicia was giggling because everyone else was, but Mia’s face fell as she looked up at her father, then around at everyone in the room. Riza watched as she climbed to her feet, rushing over to Roy. 

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Mia reassured him. She wrapped her arms around a surprised Roy’s neck. “You’ll always be my hero,” Riza heard her whisper in his ear. It was spoken quiet enough that the rest of them didn’t hear over their laughter, but Riza was standing behind the couch Roy was sitting on, so she heard every word.

Roy wrapped his arms tightly around Mia. “Thank you, Mia Bear,” he whispered.

“Dinner is served, everyone,” Riza announced. Eagerly, their guests made their way to their dining room. Riza hung back and waited for Roy and Mia. He’d hoisted her into his arms and was carrying her through on his hip, rather than walking with Mia by his side. Hayate walked dutifully by their side, looking up at Mia as they walked.

The whole night was a hit. The drinks flowed and all the food was gone by the end of the night. Most of them went back for seconds, stating it was too good to only have one serving. Riza thanked them sincerely, touched. On the inside she was beaming with pride.

“I told you Riza was an amazing cook,” Roy announced, kissing her cheek. She turned pink at the compliment and went back to eating Winry’s apple pie without saying a word.

“Her cooking is to die for,” Rebecca announced, helping herself to a third plate, unashamed.

“Riza, my dear, you’re an absolutely wonderful cook, however no one holds a candle to my Gracia,” Maes winked. “Sorry.”

“Winry’s apple pie is great too,” Alphonse piped up. “Edward tells me its the best he’s ever tasted.”

Riza watched, trying to hide her laugh as Edward’s face turned scarlet and Winry’s cheeks were dusted pink.

Edward coughed in response. “Yeah, it is,” he muttered quietly in response. “It’s really great.”

“Let’s not compare and contrast,” Gracia announced, keeping the peace. “The meal was wonderful, Riza. Thank you so much.”

A chorus of thank yous sounded around the table.

Riza noticed Alphonse was writing in a notebook under the table. Not wishing to embarrass him, she kept it quiet, but Mia noticed, to her chagrin.

“What are you writing, Alphonse?” she asked, eyes wide and curious.

“Oh! Um…” He sounded embarrassed. Riza opened her mouth to tell Mia to leave her questions for now, but Alphonse continued anyway. “It’s a journal I like to keep.”

“What’s in it?”

“Mia? Let’s leave questions for later, okay?” Riza told her gently.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Mus – I mean Riza,” Alphonse piped up. “Um, it’s a journal of all the food I’m going to eat when… I feel better.”

Mia was too young to understand that Alphonse had lost his entire body and Riza appreciated the teen stating he wasn’t eating because he didn't feel well, rather than revealing he had no mouth. Mia took it in her stride and nodded without further questioning.

“Brother tells me all the things that are particularly delicious, and I take a note of them in here, so I remember to try them when I get my body back,” Alphonse elaborated.

The table awed at his kind statement. Riza felt tears welling inside her eyes. Alphonse was incredibly sweet for saying it, and she was touched.

Roy squeezed her knee in comfort. “That’s lovely of you to say, Alphonse,” Roy told him.

“Yes,” Riza stuttered, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Alphonse stated happily. “We’ll make sure to come back so I can try your food. If that’s all right, of course?”

Roy grinned and patted her knee again under the table.

“That would be lovely,” she smiled, blinking furiously. “Thank you.”

*          *          *

“Um, Mrs. Mustang?” a nervous voice asked as Riza washed the dishes in the sink. 

Turning, she saw Winry standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Winry. Is everything all right?”

She nodded. “Sorry, it just didn’t feel right to leave you to clean up by yourself.”

Riza chuckled. “That’s not a problem, Winry. You’re our guest. I wouldn’t ask you to wash dishes with me anyway.”

“Would you mind if I helped?”

“If you insist,” Riza smiled, handing her a dish towel. “I wouldn’t mind the company either.”

“I…” She trailed off, biting her lip as she took the towel from Riza’s outstretched hand.

Riza paused for a second, expectantly. Winry obviously wanted to ask her something, but couldn’t quite form the words. 

“Take your time, Winry,” Riza reassured her as she continued in her task. Soap suds were up to her elbows as she made her way through the mountain of plates they’d used at dinner.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“Do you… worry about the Colonel a lot?”

“All the time,” Riza replied simply.

Winry nodded and Riza saw her swallow. “How do you deal with it?” Her voice was extremely quiet as she wiped the water off the plate and gently placed it on the counter.

Riza paused, cocking her head in thought. She wouldn’t lie to the girl and say it was easy, because sometimes it wasn’t.

“He’s in a position of power, and in the military. He could be called out to war at any moment, but I think I would worry about him all the time regardless of that fact.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love him,” Riza elaborated. “And when you love someone so much, you worry about them regardless of where they are in their life. Are they happy? Are they healthy? Are they doing okay? I feel the same way about Mia as well. I just want my family to be cared for and happy, so focus on that.”

Winry nodded, picking up another plate. She was silent as she absorbed Riza’s words. The two worked together quietly as Riza waited for Winry to move the conversation further.

“It’s hard,” the young girl whispered.

“I know,” Riza replied sympathetically.

“I… Sometimes I don’t even know where they are. The last I hear from them, they’re in East City, then a few days later they show up at my door, broken.” The plate hit the countertop harder than Winry intended, and the teen jumped. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered.

“Winry, it’s okay. Why don’t we have a seat?” Riza suggested gently. This was obviously not a conversation to be held over washing dishes.

Letting out a breath, Winry nodded in agreement.

In that same moment, Riza caught Roy walking through with two empty glasses in his hands. He opened his mouth to talk, but stopped when he saw Riza’s urgent glare. Behind Winry’s back, Riza motioned for him to stop and leave. Mouth parted in surprise, he spun on his heel and left the two of them alone.

“You worry about them a lot, don’t you?” Riza prompted once they were settled at the dining table.

Winry nodded. “They’re my best friends,” she whispered. “I don’t want to lose them.”

Riza could more than sympathise with that.

“I don’t want to wake up one day and… find out they won’t be coming home.”

“I understand completely. I’m the same with Roy.” Riza eyed Winry carefully for a moment. “You love them, don’t you?”

Her face turned bright pink. “I - I - They’re my friends,” she stuttered.

Riza knew better. There was a deeper connection between the three of them. Perhaps it stemmed from what the brothers went through. Winry had revealed over dinner that she was an automail mechanic, and being Edward’s oldest friend it didn’t take Riza long to connect the dots. Winry had been the one to attach Edward’s automail. She’d seen him and Alphonse through their traumatic past and recovery.

“It’s never been easy,” Riza began, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “Especially with Roy in the military. I won’t lie and say it has been a breeze, because I do worry every time he leaves for work. However, I trust him. Even though I can’t be with him to make sure he’s all right, I trust him to look out for himself and I know that he has a solid team behind him. So do Edward and Alphonse. Remember that.”

“I’ll try… but…”

“It’s easier said than done, I know that. Do you feel helpless every time you see them struggling?” Winry’s head lifted, expression perking up. “Do you want to help, but don’t know how?”

“Yes,” she breathed earnestly. She looked delighted to have found someone who understood her.

“You gave Edward the ability to walk again, Winry,” Riza stated, sitting back in her chair with a smile. “You’ve helped them so much already.”

“You’re right,” she mumbled to herself.

“Even if you feel helpless, you just being there will help them,” Riza continued. “They might not thank you. They might not even think to. However, they will appreciate it and one day, they’ll realise how big a help you were to them.”

“Is that what you do for the Colonel?”

“I’ll always be there for him when he needs me. You might need to give them some time, but they’ll come when they need you. You just need to tell them that.”

“Right,” Winry nodded, determination in her voice.

“Sorry to interrupt, Lladies,” Roy announced quietly and sheepishly as he crept around the door. “Catalina is demanding more wine.” He shot Riza an apologetic look as he entered with the same two glasses. “And she’s right, Winry. I don’t know what I would do without her,” Roy grinned at his wife.

Riza snorted. “He can be so hopeless sometimes,” she whispered loudly to the teen. “It’s a wonder how he even gets by in life,” she winked.

Winry’s eyes widened considerably. Then she giggled. “I often think the same about Ed,” she admitted. “I’m glad he has Al beside him at least. That gives me some comfort at least.”

They laughed together then Roy took his leave. In passing he paused before Riza, pecking her cheek.

“Mia is asking for her Mama,” he announced. “She says she misses you.”

Winry let out an aw as Riza chuckled. “We won’t be long.”

Roy pecked her cheek then left the room with two glasses of wine.

Riza opened her mouth to suggest joining the rest of them, but she paused. Winry was fidgeting in her chair and it looked like she had some more questions for Riza.

“Did you ever think about following him?” she asked suddenly.

“I did,” Riza revealed. “Once.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” Winry gushed as an afterthought.

“You want to know why I didn’t?”

Winry nodded.

“Roy works towards making the world a better place and protecting the two brothers. He’s got a good team I trust to keep him on track. However, there’s someone I have to protect too. I have Mia,” she replied, then a slow smile spread across Riza’s face. “And another one on the way too.” She cupped her stomach gently, unable to stop the smile from spreading.

“Are you pregnant?” Winry asked.

Riza nodded. “Roy and I have another one on the way.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Winry cried excitedly.

“Thank you, Winry.”

“Thank you for this talk, Mrs. Mustang,” Winry breathed. She let out a long breath and Riza saw her shoulders sagging in relief, like a weight had been lifted.

“Anytime Winry,” she smiled fondly. “And it’s Riza, please.”

“Okay, Riza.” Winry’s grin was bright.

“And I mean it. If you ever need anything or want to chat, just give me a call.”

“I will, thank you!”

“Even if it’s to complain about how dumb the men in our lives are,” Riza winked. She laughed as Winry’s face turned scarlet and she coughed, but she still thanked Riza with a shy smile on her face.

[broadwaynoodle]

once a tuck, a tuck forever

Title:  once a Tuck, a Tuck forever

Pairing: modern!Miles Tuck x Foster!Reader

Ratinf: fluff

Summary: When the Tuck’s travel back to Winnie’s grave they stay in Treegap for a few days, that is when Miles meets you.

Warning: few swears, Y/F/N stands for your full name. the reader is 19 btw.

Word count: 2073

(GIF not mine)

 It was a pretty good day to go on a walk, that was exactly what you were planning on doing today, taking a walk trough your dad’s woods. The Treegap wood has been a property of your family for very long. You loved the wood, it was always quiet and peaceful, it helped that nobody walked trough it though. At least you thought no one did, because at the moment that thought crossed your mind you walked into something, no someone. “Shit, oh my god, I am so sorry, are you okay?” you said.

 When you looked up you stared into the most beautiful set of brown eyes you’ve had ever seen. “It’s okay.” The man said and he started walking away, you followed him. “What are you doing in this wood anyway?” You asked you wanted to get to know this man. “I could ask you the same thing.” He sneered. “Well these woods are mine, and the weather is good so I thought I would go for a walk, now you.” He had to be around your age. “I also thought a walk would be nice. And you must be a Foster.” He said still walking away from you. “Yes. Y/N Foster, what is your name?” you asked the tall and stunning man. “Miles. Can you leave me now please?” “Ha, my mom used to tell me a fairytale about a family, the tuck family. One of the sons was called Miles, it’s an old family tale though, nobody outside of the family tells or knows it.”

 “Do you maybe I don’t know, want to drink coffee?” he asked and sure it was kind of weird  but you couldn’t think of a reason not to. “Sure.” “so tell me about that family fairytale.” Miles said. “Well it was about my great-grant mother, she run away from home and met this immortal family. And how she fell in love with the youngest son Jesse.” Miles started walking faster after you said that. “You know what is funny though, it started with a spring in our wood, a spring with a T carved in the old ash tree behind it, and I saw a spring like that in our wood.” “did you drink from it?” “Yes it is just a story anyway.” You brushed the question off. “If you only knew.” He mumbled. You and Miles arrived at a small cabin in the woods. “It’s a little dusty, it’s my old house I moved out a long time ago.” He said as the two of you entered the cabin. “Ma! Pa! little problem please help.”

 “What is it Mi- oh god not this again, Miles!” The woman who same down exclaimed. Miles started talking: “Ma, let me explain, she knows and she drank the water, what do we need to do?” you were so confused, you just didn’t get what they were talking about. “Why didn’t you stop her Miles! You are unbelievable!” this time the man spoke up. “Angus calm down, child please sit down we need to tell you something.” “Hey guys I’m back… what is happening here? Why is everyone looking at me? What did I do this time?” a blond haired boy walked in he was short and looked like he was between the 15 and 18. “Owh god there is a girl over here that isn’t good” the short boy said. he stuck his hand out for you to shake it. “Jesse Tuck howdo” Your eyes grew bigger, this starts to sound very alike to the story your mom always told you, a family of four people, the oldest son is called Miles, the youngest Jesse, and their last name is Tuck. “Y/N Foster nice to meet you.” All three of the people looked up. “Wait you didn’t only drink the water, you also knew of us AND you are a Foster.” The man exclaimed. “What is wrong with what water and what do I know about your family?” you were very confused at this point. “And yes I am a Foster what is the big deal.” Miles spoke up again. “Y/N you might want to sit down.” And you did.  

“Okay so once upon a time,” the woman said “Ma you still shouldn’t start like that.” Miles interrupted his mother. “whatever Miles, Once there was a man, a man and a wife and a family.” “that’s Jesse and me.” Miles interrupted.  “We tore from the west to settle in the east, looking for a farm or some land at least” The woman continued. “Ma cut it, she already knows. Listen Y/N that story that is in your family, it is true, your great-grant mother is called Winnie right? Well she was in the exact same place you are now only in 1893” Miles explained. “It can’t be, funny joke, I’m going home now, you guys are really weird you know.” You said standing up. At that moment Jesse stabbed Miles. The odd thing was that it looked like he  wasn’t hurt at all. “Gee thanks Jesse.” Miles chuckled. “Wait you guys are telling the truth?” you asked when you saw there was no blood or anything on Miles. “Yes and since you drunk the water, we think it’s smart for you to stay with us.” The woman said. “I’m Mae by the way, this is my husband Angus.”

 The next day you went home to tell your parent you were moving out, they were happy for you. You got all your important stuff and went back to the cabin in the wood. You were going to face a whole different life and you were scared but also excited,

………

It’s been 7 months since you started living with the Tucks and life was good with them, it was at middle winter but you were still walking, you were out with Miles, he said he wanted to talk to you. You and Miles had grew very close the last 7 months and you would lie if you said you didn’t have any feelings for the handsome brunette. You walked close to Miles, not that he minded. “Y/N? You know, my family defiantly became a lot nicer since you joined us, you’re just a little ray of happiness and the point is that I kind of like you very much, and I know it’s super weird and all, but would you maybe give me a change, go on a date with me?” He was talking so fast you could barely follow what  he was saying, but you still got every word of it. “It would be my honor Miles.” You said and he smiled like an idiot for the rest of the day.

………

For your first date miles took you to a like but since it was winter it was frozen. “I don’t really have ice skates but I figured this would still be a fun place to you know just, be.” Miles said rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s great Miles I love it.” You and Miles talked for hours, you haven’t had this much fun in years. The two of you walked back home hand in hand, you guys were almost back at the cabin when you stopped him. “Thanks for today Miles  I had so much fun.” You said and you pressed your lips against his, it was meant to be a simple peck but miles grabbed the small of your back and deepened the kiss, not that you complain. “Yeah I had fun too.” He said and you continued walking back home.

………..

It has been 6 years since that day and Miles sat at the kitchen table. Since his former marriage it has been hard for Miles to understand love again, but Miles knows he found it with you, you were the best, you were beautiful, extremely nice, you had the most wonderful smile, you loved his parents and you loved him. Everything just felt so right with you.

 “What are you thinking about bro?” Jesse asked as he set down next to his brother, Miles and you moved out two years ago, you build your own cabin, it wasn’t even a mile away from the cabin from Mae and Angus and Jesse still came over every single day but it just gave you two lovebirds a little more privacy. “I’m going to ask Y/N to marry me tonight after family diner.” Miles said, knowing you were over at Mae’s to talk about girly stuff. “Damn Miles, that is a decision to make, does pa know? Does ma know?” Jesse asked. “Yes they do, but don’t you dare to spoil this for me, I will ruin you heard me?” At that point the door opened.  “Miles don’t threat your brother sweetheart.” You said as you walked in. “That is my cue to leave.” Jesse winked as he walked away. “see you tonight Y/N.” you walked into the Livingroom “Why is he so happy?” you asked Miles before sitting next to him and placing a small kiss on his lips. “I don’t know baby.” He said as he laid his head on your shoulder.

 At diner you were talking to Angus that he should teach you how to fish some time, Miles was talking to his mom and Jesse was just a smiley mess  the whole time. When you all finishes your food there fell a silence, everyone was looking at Miles, so you looked his way too. “Y/N, baby, we have been together for a long time but I remember the day I met you like it was yesterday, you were so confused the whole time and afterwards you were so happy and smiley, and you looked so beautiful, the months after that day you have been nothing but nice to us and helpful and a good friend and, we all love you, especially me, I care so much for you and you are the best thing that ever happened to me and the best thing that will ever happen to me. I love you so much.” He took a box from his jacket pocket and got down on one knee, you gasped as he clicked the box open. “Y/N Foster will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife.” Miles looked hopeful at you, you started nodding with tears in your eyes, you loved him so much. “Yes Miles, I will, yes, o my god yes!” He putted the ring on your finger and stood up to pull you into a passionate kiss.

 Jesse was the first one to speak during that: “Get a room you two.” Only to get hit on the back of his head by his dad. “you are ruining the moment Jesse.” His mom said.

……….

So here you were, in front of the tree, with the “T” the place where everything begun.  You were wearing a beautiful white dress may made you, your hair was curled and it was braided to the back of your head with little pink flowers in the braid. The only people to be at the wedding were the Tucks but you didn’t care. Jesse walked you to the aisle, angus started talking, “Well kids, I know it’s not a “real” wedding but it’s the best we are going to get so” Agnus started a story about the two of you and Mae was sobbing through the entire thing. “so Y/F/N, so you want Miles tuck as your husband?” Agnus asked. “Yes, I do.” You answered Angus spoke up again: “Miles Tuck, do you want Y/F/N as your wife?” “Yes I do” Miles said. “You may now kiss the ride.” Agnus spoke. “You don’t need to tell me what to do pa.” Miles said before kissing you. “Welcome to the family Y/N Tuck.” Miles smiled against your lips. You only smiled in response. “And remember once you are a Tuck you’re a Tuck forever.” Angus smiled.

 You were so grateful, that you drunk water you didn’t know you shouldn’t drink, that you walked into a random guy in the woods, that that guy liked you just as much as you liked him, that he had the best family ever, and that he was now your husband. Even though you had forever in front of you, with miles a years seemed to pass just as fast as a minute, you never wanted to leave him and you knew you never would.

end

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Til Kingdom Come

Jurassic World 

Summary: Claire pushes social and gender boundaries. The universe pushes back.  

Part: 5/12

Words: 6,808

I was just sitting around waiting to post this. So, y’all may as well have it. Call it me avoiding my responsibilities. 

AO3

TIL KINGDOM COME - PART 5

She felt brave that morning when she woke, confidence telling Claire that nothing would touch her as Zara helped fix the laces on her clothes before intricately braiding her hair. She needed strength to feel like herself again. A few weeks ago Owen thought she was pregnant but when she got her period the following week everyone looked as if she had let them down. Her body didn’t feel like hers anymore. It belonged to the watchful eye of East court.

She found Owen just outside the castle walls, using the training grounds they had installed. Most of the men were there, the ones she noticed Owen always took with him wherever he went. They didn’t call them The Kings Guard here, but they acted in a similar way. She considered them his brutes. Rough men who likely held large death counts over their heads, willing to lay their lives down for Owen at his command. Despite that, they did not scare her. Claire knew these men could not touch her without facing the wrath of her husband and Owen was just as big as they were. She liked that about him; he was strong, trained alongside his men and saw to civilian issues often. It was more than she could say for Merrick who hid away in The Citadel until he was forced out on a battlefield. It was a miracle her brother was still alive. But, Owen, he stood a fighting chance against the toughest of men.

It smelt of manure and hay from the stables out there as the sounds of clashing metal filled her ears, men grunting as they honed their battle skills.

‘Are you going for a ride?’ Owen asked approaching his wife when he noticed she was completely alone, not even Zara by her side. She shook her head. A ride had not been in her plans. ‘What are you doing out here, then?’ He asked with a laugh, fingers tapping at the coat she wore. It was warm enough that she didn’t need it and yet Claire used it to conceal what she was wearing underneath.

‘I thought I could join you.’ She told him, no question in her tone as she shed herself of the coat to reveal the pant and shirt combo she was wearing. Owen stared, anger climbing up his face. They were his clothes, too large on her little body, tied down with added rope and a few ribbons around her arms. He could tell she wasn’t wearing a corset and that alone enraged him. If he knew the others would too and he wasn’t having his men ogling his corset-less wife.

‘You need to go change.’ He demanded, trying to throw her coat back over her shoulders.

Claire shook her head. ‘I can’t spar in a dress.’

‘You’re not sparring, not today. Not out here. Not ever.’ He couldn’t meet her eyes, Owen realising he had never really looked at her, not like this, completely out of her attire and draped in his clothes.  No one else was allowed to see her like that.

She put her hands on her hips, the coat falling off once again as she stared at him. ‘You said you didn’t want me to be miserable. I find handling a sword quite enjoyable.’ He stared at her, wide eyed and open-mouthed, this young woman in front of him dressed in men's clothes, a red braid long down her back and a determination in her eyes he was starting to realise wouldn’t lift. ‘What? Are you scared I’ll hurt your men?’

Owen shook his head, he was worried his men would hurt his wife. They wouldn’t dream of it, knowing more harm would come to them than not. If they were smart, they wouldn’t engage her in combat at all.

‘Women don’t fight.’

‘Bullshit.’ She swore, watching him flinch at the language from her mouth. He pursed his lips, ready to argue with her when Claire proposed a challenge. ‘If I can hit that target from thirty yards, I can stay, do as please, weld a sword or a bow. If I miss, I’ll go back to the castle and never ask again.’ That was a lie, of course, she would ask again but she would give Owen and cooling off period before she did.

He didn’t want to admit that he finally managed to place the small silver scar on her cheek, worry settling into his bones. He had seen similar marks, usually red and bloody, fresh out of the fight with his archers, the string pulled too close to the face. Suddenly, Owen realised she might actually win her little wager. He nodded anyway, agreeing, unsure which parts of him wanted to her to succeed and which wanted her to fail.

Claire attracted a crowd. She wasn’t hard to miss with her fiery hair and confident walk as she stalked across their outdoor barracks, catching the eye of every man she passed. Women didn’t particularly find themselves in this part of the castle. They were gawking, eyes on the woman wearing pants as she stomped over to a large barrel sprouting with bows, a stack of arrow filled quivers sitting on the bench beside it. She took her time, grasping her hands over the grips and the limbs, feeling the weight of the instrument before she found one she liked. Claire would have preferred the one she left in the Citadel, weapon not joining her on her journey in fear her new house would take it away. The one at home had been made especially for her, weight and size sculpted to give Claire a better edge. If she won the wager, she would send for it, that was if her family hadn’t thrown away what little possessions she left behind. For the time being, that The Grady’s had here would have to do.

It was heavier than she what she was used too, the string well used which would work in her favour. She lifted it easily, ignoring the eyes on her and sauntered towards her mark. Owen was standing a few feet away, keeping himself to the front of the growing pack.

‘What is she doing?’ She heard a voice ask. Owen only grunted the man vexed as he watched her.

She raised her arm, testing the bow as she tugged on the string sans arrow. ‘As she pleases.’ She heard Owen grunt in response.

She turned to him, body twisted at her waist, bow hanging from her hand as if it weighed nothing at all. ‘Ready to make good on that bet?’ She called to him, winking playfully as she caught Owen’s jaw drop. The men around him made noise, some cheering in her favour while others gave Owen shit, a few, she was sure, hollered that she should be inside helping the other women.

Owen nodded, the movement curt. She didn’t need his permission to lift the bow but she waited for it anyway. This move wasn’t intended to annoy him. She wouldn’t have done it if she thought he would be really mad. Claire felt comfortable, that she could trust him with her favoured past times and have his full support.  

She raised the bow with a steady arm, the other reaching for an arrow as she held it in place. Her biceps stretched, muscle bulging under Owen’s large shirt. Claire inhaled, one singular sharp breath as she lined up her shot, eye on the target thirty yards away. She held her breath, her body wound tight as a coil as she felt the string strain against her fingers. Claire let it go, feeling the string snap against her cheek as the arrow went flying down the field.

The men erupted in a roar as the arrow sunk itself into the centre of the target, Claire dropping the bow as she spun towards Owen. She could feel the glee bubbling in her chest, smile bright on her face. She couldn’t hide it. Nothing made her happier than hitting the target, the pot had sweetened when she proved someone else wrong.

Owen was leaving against the fence separating the path from the archery range. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs stretched out in front of him. One of his men clamped their hands down on his shoulders, shaking their lord with excitement and disbelief. Owen remained steady. The grin on his cheeks was deep, pressing dimples into his skin in something akin to pride.

She wasted no time in crossing the space between them in a confident stride. ‘Well,’ Owen cleared his throat, ‘I guess you get to spar with the men’. In that second, Claire felt like a child on the very same day her father had given the girl her first bow and quiver. She couldn’t help the joy that pounded through her bloodstream inline with adrenaline. She kissed him, both hands firm on either side of his face as their lips met. He revelled in the touch for a moment, kissing her back as lust pooled between them, Claire living off adrenaline as Owen tried to hide that her display had turned him on. His men cheered louder at the sight of their affection. ‘I get to pick who you train with.’ Owen told her, fingers sliding around her wrist.

Claire frowned. ‘I won’t damage your men.’ She told him defiantly.

Owen shook his head. ‘I don’t want anyone hurting you. These are men we are talking about. They are not used to fighting with women and they will forget their own strength. Until I can find you a suitable sparring partner I will take their place.’

She pulled back, stepping out of the space between his legs. ‘You?’ She asked, frown in place. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Owen would make a good partner but rather that he had thrown her off.

‘C’mon, every wife dreams of taking her husband on in battle.’ He teased, letting her go as his fingers flexed against his legs. She could see he wanted to pull her back in.

Claire tilted her head, watching him with avid curiosity as she nodded. ‘I just don’t think you would like to lose face in front of all your men, here.’ She teased, winking at him as she took another step back, Owen launching for her with a wide grin.

‘You’re a terrible tease.’ He told her, and even though Owen had the speed and strength to catch Claire, he let her continually step out of his reach. ‘If you’re serious about this, I can ask Mae to fetch you some better clothes.’ She nodded, smile wide on her face.

‘I did this at home. I had an instructor and when the men from The Kings Guard came back from Merrick’s errands they would beg me for a duel.’ She admitted proudly before adding it was all in secret or else he would have heard about the duelling princess of The Citadel. ‘I was not sure how you would take to that revelation of my past times.’

‘And your father let you do this?’ She nodded. ‘Your brother?’

‘Didn’t approve, but Merrick didn’t mind what I did so long as I kept out of his war room.’ She turned her eyes away from him, her hands fidgeting. ‘I’ve never killed. Just played, really. It keeps me entertained.’ She was ashamed of the things she had to hide. Her boyish fancies that kept her time occupied. Claire loved the gardens and the horses, she wasn’t a very good tailor but she could sew. There were just other things that took her interest first. She wanted to fight and she wanted to take command. She was not interested in becoming a wife and a mother, but that was the hand she was dealt.  

‘You like to fight and plan wars, what woman did they send me?’ He asked, his tone endearing as he stepped into her personal space.

‘A wild one.’ Claire told him, breathless as she stepped back towards him and lent in. Their mouths were inches apart, breath ghosting over the face of the other as Claire closed the space between them with a cheeky peck. He didn’t let her breakaway, instead, Owen slid his arms around her waist and deepened their kiss. She whimpered against him, her hands bunching his clothes into her fists. Claire felt her cheeks burn hot, well aware that other men were in their presence, but she paid them no mind, happy to get lost in the feel of her husband, grin growing wide.

She wondered momentarily if he was going to distract her requests with sex. Claire would be a willing participant, if not a little pouty that he tore her away from her desired activities. But, she was starting to find, as his teeth nipped her lip, she desired him a little more than sparring in that moment.

Owen pulled away, leaving Claire to whimper at him as a crease formed in her brow. The warmth of his body and his shirt in her hand was easily replaced with cool steel, the item heavy in her hand as Claire realised he had slipped a sword into her grasp.

‘Lets see what you’ve got.’ He teased with a wink, skin flushed from their kissing as Claire wondered on the effectiveness of a lust-addled mind.

Claire had fought with some of the toughest men in her brother’s guard. They had come from all over The Four Kingdoms to serve Merrick and in their free time engaged Claire in a sparring match when she felt like it. For a long time, she thought a few might fancy her and if they kept up their game she could even fall in love with them. Often times, they thought her an easy mark and a quick defeat. She never let them with.

She had some of the greatest teachers the earth had to offer and yet Owen Grady nearly had her beat. There were keen warnings of bruises blooming against her skin, a few on her arms and legs another angry welt against her ribs. Once again, they drew a crowd that day, men gathering to watch their Lord and Lady spar as Claire taunted him playfully. They had to call it quits before someone really got hurt, Owen already sporting a cut on his brow from a tumble neither of them saw coming. Regardless, it was her blade that did it and she didn’t exactly want to see herself become a widower.

They found their rhythm in a heartbeat, learning to spar with the other, anticipating the next move. She could feel him in her head, just as she suspected he could feel her. They melded together as one thought, trying to counteract the other’s next move.

It carried to the bedroom, when their strength was waining, the both of them panting as their lungs tried to keep up. In the privacy of their bedchambers, they tore at the other, hands quick and confident, squeezing and tugging, eliciting sweet little moans.

Owen tugged at his ill-fitting trousers on her hips, yanking them down as he dropped to his knees. He was peppering fat kisses up her legs, pace hurried against the soft skin of her thighs as he climbed higher, enjoying the lack of her skirts. His kisses turned from sloppy to precise as she felt his nose nudge at her nether regions before his tongue made a calculated move. Her hands were buried in his hair, curled tight and likely to be causing him pain. Owen didn't complain, only continued his work.

He didn’t move until her legs started to twitch, knees promising to give way with every stroke of his tongue or the suction of a deliberate kiss. Claire crawled onto the bed the second he let her go, arms unwinding from her legs as laughter drifted from the tip of her tongue.

It was so different now than what it had been. Their coupling not forced or hazed by alcohol. Claire was starting to lose count on the number of times they had sex but this moment felt distinctly different from all the rest. Something in her chest felt at ease, wanted in this space not because she was promised to him, or that she had taken charge and turned the tables. She was here, her body quivering because like it or not, Owen fancied her as more than a wife he was given. He might not have been ready to admit it but Claire could feel lust melding with love or in the least a strong form of admiration.

Claire felt joyful at his tough, complete with every kiss on her body as he pushed his shirt over her head. His kisses led to nips, teeth grazing her skin as she squirmed, hips raising to roll against his in impatient little moves. She was panting, unabashed and out of rhythm as each touch his fingers made, each squeeze, each kiss, lick and nip encouraged her breath to catch and stutter past her lips.

Her hair had come loose, falling out of the intricate braids Zara had placed them in early that morning. Instead, the curled red strands fanned a halo around her head, a length of it stretched over her shoulder, draped down her breast in a wave as Owen curled it around his fingers, his palm cupping the heavy flesh of her chest as Claire pushed herself further into his hand. He grinned at the sight of her arched back, other hand sliding under her ribs as his fingers pressed at her spine.

He was learning to adore Claire in all forms but this was his favourite; wife stretched out on his bed, naked, hair wild as she stretched her arms beyond her head and grinned at him with lust filled eyes. She was a vision he had only ever imagined, a happiness he thought he could never find.

It was not lost on Owen that Claire let him keep the lead. She was capable of turning their game, twisting their bodies and sliding him home without any more lingered nonsense. Instead, she let him take his time, let him kiss her body in the most lovely of places, her skin humming as she mewled. She let him have the power between them, the control of her lust and the speed in which he devoured it.

‘Please, Owen.’ She whimpered, his name the ghost of a sound as she hooked her leg around his. Owen grinned, his eyes meeting hers as he lowered his head, playfully taking a nipple between his teeth. She cursed him with a breathy giggle as her body squirmed, Owen lowering a steady hand to her hip to keep her still. It only made her try harder, whimper soft as he lavished her skin with wet kisses. Claire allowed him the control, but that did not stop her from reaching between their bodies with impatient fingers to grasp ahold of the one thing she wanted.

[…]

Claire woke with a start, a fright clutching at the edges of her thoughts as it rattled down to her chest. She sat up on the large bed, ears straining to catch what had awoken her. The night was still, moonlight bathing their room as a muscle in her leg twitched with the reminder of her husband’s touch, the man sleeping soundly beside her. She watched him for a minute, fondly admiring the side of his face as he slept naked and on his stomach, the broad plans of his back bare to her. She had not failed to notice the four bodies missing from the floor and furniture, the wolves were gone.

The night whistled outside the open windows, still and smooth, a cool breeze calming. She told herself to lay back down, willing it all away as a bad dream that had startled her. Claire returned her head to the pillow and curled closer into Owen, tucking her arms around one of his as he started to stir. ‘Sleep, Princess.’ He mumbled to her, other hand raising to pet at her hair.

‘The girls are gone.’ She told him quietly, trying not to sound frightened as everything felt too still around her. Something wasn’t right, Claire knew it, she just couldn’t put her finger on exactly what.

Owen shrugged, grunting a little in his sleepy throat as he tucked her in closer. ‘They get up sometimes.’ He said as if to remind her that they were house trained and there was a courtyard only a few feet away. ‘They’re wild animals, they get restless.’ Claire wanted to ask what was there to be restless about. The night was oddly still, absent of hooting owls or baying wolves. Why had his girls gotten up and left them and why had she never noticed before?

Claire was drifting again, marvelling at how silly she felt in being so concerned. Just as her eyes closed and sleep started to climb over her like a blanket she heard voices outside the chamber doors, the Grady soldiers who stood guard of them while they slept were alarmed, their voices shouting at someone. Owen was awake, she heard the shift in his breathing beside her as his body turned rigid. He sprung out of bed the second metal hit metal outside the chamber door.

‘Stay here.’ He demanded a finger pointed in Claire’s direction as she sat in the middle of their bed, sheets a mess around her. He was trying to tug a pair of pants on with one hand as he freed his sword from its sheath with the other. Half clothed, Owen tossed a dagger onto their bed, the small weapon landing a few inches from Claire as she stared at it. ‘Use it if you have to.’ He told her, vowing when the night was over he would get her a better weapon. She looked at him with a gaping expression, half blubbering as Claire tried to remind him she had never killed before. ‘You know how to use it.’ Owen was confident. ‘I don’t want you hurt in this, Claire. Strike as many times as you need to, just make sure it’s not any of my men.’ There was no guarantee that it wasn’t rogue Grady men behind that door but Claire understood if their intention was to hurt her, Owen wanted them dead.

She couldn’t help but feel scared. The Citadel’s castle had been threatened a small number of times in her life but Claire had been too young to remember it. Everyone knew the palace was impenetrable and any chances of wreaking havoc on The Dearings would be stopped and saw too. All those involved would be put to their deaths. She felt vulnerable in Grey Castle, sitting in a nightgown with nothing but a dagger to protect her. She missed the sight of Owen’s girls, suddenly wishing all four beasts were by her side for comfort. Claire worried about Owen, too, unsure of what he was facing beyond those doors as she heard men shout and swords clash.

Claire wanted to do her part, wanted to help in the fight but she knew a dagger against swords would see her death quicker than anything else. Claire stayed put, listening to the sounds of fighting as she cringed every time she swore Owen’s voice could be heard.  

The voices fell silent after a while. Claire couldn’t tell if they had moved on or if they had managed to kill themselves in the fight and lay bleeding to death out in the hall. She waited for Owen to return and when he didn’t Claire got antsy.

She didn’t want to sit there and wait for misfortune to find her. It might have been the safest option, if the men really had moved on they would have left her be. Claire moved regardless, feet hitting the cool floor as she broke out into the hallway, heart hammering as her eyes scanned the bodies on the floor for her husband. There was no sign of Owen, the tightening in her chest eased.

There was no doubt she stepped in blood, feet bare as she wandered the halls of the castle, looking for Owen or a familiar face that could ease her worries. The castle was empty and the night beyond it remained still. She couldn’t hear the clash of swords any longer or the grunting of fighting men. She was peeping around the corner of an unfamiliar room, quietly calling out her husband’s name when someone grabbed her from behind. They smelt foul, hands too small on her to be her thick bodied husband.

‘Just what I was looking for.’ The man purred in her ear. Every hair on her body stood on end, chill coursing down her spine as his voice huffed warm breath against her neck. It wasn’t Owen. Claire tried to pull away but his arm around her was too tight. She struggled none the less, resisting his hold that only grew tighter with every wriggle she made.

‘Owen!’ She tried to be quiet, tried not to draw any attention to herself while she was tip-toeing the halls alone. Caught by an unknown assailant, she threw her earlier caution to the wind. With eyes squeezed closed, she hoped Owen was near enough to hear her cries. ‘Owen!’

The other man, wearing a uniform Claire didn’t recognise, shoved her against the wall allowing Claire to turn and face him. He had a heavy hand on her hip, his grip too tight and unforgiving. She squeezed the grip of the dagger Owen entrusted to her, rolling it between her sweaty palm before Claire pulled her arm back. She felt the metal snag against the man’s skin, her eyes closed again as he gasped, the dagger dragging across his throat and spurting hot blood across her face. He stumbled back, still standing when she opened her eyes, refusing to give up. He lunged at her, a hand on his throat but life was leaving his body, draining his energy quickly as he fell at her feet.

Claire didn’t move. She pressed her back against the cold wall and held her breath as she listened to the man’s haggard breathing fade out, gaping on the floor. She kicked at him after a minute, toes pushing at his shoulder and finding the body lifeless.

There was a shake in her fingers, a rattle that climbed up her arms and shook across her shoulders. She had never killed before. Never taken a life. Her father never let her take a sword or a bow into a more practical setting. Claire only had wooden figures to practice on and Merrick’s men. She was not allowed to kill her brother's soldiers. And now, there was a man, dead at her feet, his blood sticky on her skin and soaking through her gown. She could still feel the ghost of his breath on her neck and the rough sound of his voice climbing into her ears.  

Claire slipped to the floor, only a few feet from the man’s dead body. She didn’t cry, just gasped for breath as a fear response took over her. Claire had never considered herself squeamish but it was a different thing entirely to be covered in the thick red life of someone else. Her life was threatened and her protection nowhere to be found, it was reasonable that she took it into her own hands.

Time passed right by her, indistinguishable as the night moved on heading no signs of if it was closer to morning than not. The hall was stone cold, shivering breeze gliding past her only making her body rattle harder.

Despite the man’s intentions, she had killed him, taken his life in order to keep her body hers, her mind untouched and her sanity clear. The latter two were damaged, Claire could feel them sitting high in her throat, threatening to pull on her gag reflex. Her mind was shaken, her sanity unhinged and despite knowing there were lives sitting somewhere in the castle; she felt inexplicably alone.

‘Claire?’ She only flinched at the voice, caught too far in her head to recognise the sound of her husband. ‘Oh Claire.’ He dropped to his knees in front of her, wasting no time in pulling the woman against his bare chest, his large hand on her face. Her hair was a mess as he tried to push long strands out of the way, loose and caught between their bodies as he fought with it. She snapped, something inside of her breaking as a sob slipped past her throat and filled the hallway with a desperate sound.

Her tears were fat and hot, running down her cheeks in steady streams. Her hands gripped ahold of him, wrapping around his bicep and refusing to let go. She waited for him to remind her that he said to stay put, his scolding tone acting as if she wouldn’t be in this situation if she had just hidden like a good little girl. He didn’t. Instead, his large hands pulled her head away from the comfort of his left pectoral so he could read her expression. She felt her eyelashes flutter, her mind focusing on the feel of his thumbs stroking the blood off her face as nothing but concern radiated from his green eyes.

‘I didn’t want to just sit there. I’m not helpless.’ She said, conviction unsure as her hands shook violently. ‘I killed him.’ Her eyes were drawn to the lifeless body that had been her doing as Owen tried to help her to her feet. ‘I killed him, Owen.’ She struggled to stand, legs shaking as her fingers kept a death grip on his arm.

‘Did he touch you?’ Owen asked, crouching so he was at her height. Claire nodded, mind drifting to the pain that still hovered over her hip. ‘Then, it was justified.’ Owen watched her, when the sun was shining that afternoon she was as solid as the blade of his sword. It marvelled him that she had softened. If he was being really honest, he adored that she could shift and change. He wished the circumstances were different but valued that she was willing to experience the full spectrum of emotion and was unafraid to share it with him.

He knew she could walk, even on her shaking legs but there was something about the state she was in that encouraged Owen to scoop her into his arms. She tried to protest, her efforts weak and short as she gave in.

‘The attack came off the coast.’ He told her, tilting his cheek to the right so it touched her forehead. Owen stepped over the body in the hall, anger flaring in his gut as he tried to ignore the bloody handprint around his wife’s tiny ankle. ‘Restless men who thought they could strike at us and therefore affect the beating heart of The Four Kingdoms. They knew you were here. The second I heard you were the target I came to get you. Scared the shit out of me to see that room empty.’ She felt her skin turning cold at the realisation that these men were there for her. What had she done to them, other than being the daughter of Rickon Dearing? Claire cuddled closer to her husband, arms tightening their grip around his neck as she buried her head against his pec. She did not think she needed a man to protect her but she was glad she had Owen. ‘They’ve all been apprehended.’ Twenty men, still breathing, and a dozen dead. ‘It’s not going to happen again, Claire, I won’t let it.’ There was supposed to be an action in place in case of emergencies but with no women in the castle beyond staff, it went out the window after Beth Grady died. They had no one left to protect in the events of an invasion.

She shivered like a child caught in the snow, sitting alone on the ottoman in their room as he ran a bath. Owen didn’t know what else to do. He wanted her out of her bloody nightgown and the red off her skin. He could have called for Zara but did not want to disturb the girl. Claire flinched every time a voice sounded outside of their chambers. Owen had to keep reminding her they were Grady soldiers picking up the bodies of those who intruded on her home. He even brought them into the room, quietly, so they could introduce themselves and give their lady the best smiles their gruff faces would allow.

He didn’t know how he knew that Zara added gardenia rose petals to his wife’s bath or that smooth pellets of rosewood joined them. He noticed the smells hiding away in a drawer he had opened accidentally and recognised them immediately as the scent of his wife. Owen couldn’t pretend he knew of their healing properties along with the other things he had seen Claire slather on her skin or the whispered transactions of things he never saw, quite voices promising his wife it would help them to have a baby. He focused on the good smells, what he knew to be Claire, earthy and sweet, smelling of the forest and extravagant flowers. He loved that even in scent she seemed to match his life.

She let him help her was the blood from her skin, starting with the threatening mark around her ankle. He did not join her in the water, only reached wide arms in with a soft cloth disappearing into the petals. ‘Feeling better, Princess?’ He asked tone light with a smirk on his lips despite his aching heart. The pet name was not lost on Claire, nor was the fondness in which he used it. She nodded softly.

There was an angry bruise blooming on her hip and he knew it had nothing to do with their sparring match that afternoon. It came from her assailant. She had not seen the worst of brutality but a first kill could be torturous on any. Claire played tough and he had no doubt that she was a strong woman. But, she was also nineteen-years-old, still, a girl newly married into the world after always being protected. Her father and brother let her spar because it was under a controlled circumstance. Never would they allow her to be in harm's way, just as Owen would try to keep up the same protection. But, in the East, as his wife, he was willing to slacken the reins on her life. If Claire wanted to join him on a hunt she was more than able — and welcome — if she could stomach the conscious of a murder. He had no doubt that she would after this.

‘I think it’s “my queen”, to you.’ She was recovering. Her hand broke the surface of the water to touch his bearded cheek. Owen met her halfway, their kiss gentle and sweet different from the hurried sloppy movements they had shared before falling asleep. Once again, he was reminded of both sides of Claire, madly in love with each.

He left her for five minutes, to check on the soldiers who kept guard, assuring all was quiet and safe in Castle Grey for the rest of the night. When he returned, Claire’s skin was pink from the bath, the room smelling heavenly of her scent as she sat cross-legged in the middle of their bed in nothing but one of his too large shirts. The girls were back in their presence, two of them curled at the foot of the bed, while a third lingered by the bathroom. Blue was by his side, never one to leave him for too long a time. Claire’s hair was cascading in waves down her shoulders and nearly into her lap as she brushed at the tangles grown from sex and sleeping with her hair loose. Her bustle with an intruder didn’t help it any, nor did the messy bun she threw it in when Owen drew her a bath.

‘Here,’ he reached his arm out, quietly asking for the brush as took a step towards the bed. It was curiosity that was getting the better of her, biting her teeth into her bottom lip in the same way Claire did when she was turned on. She handed him the brush without a fight, watching him with eyes only as he sat beside her.

Claire moved so she had her back to him, her hands flicking her hair over her shoulders for him as she waited.

Never had anyone brushed her hair as gently as Owen Grady. It caught on a few strands here and there but he always whispered a quiet sorry whenever it happened. Claire could count on two hands the number of people who had brushed her hair and the number of reasons why she preferred to do it herself. Even Zara could be a little rough but they had known each other since they were girls and Claire was willing to forgive her helpful friend. But Owen, a woman could get used to that kind of treatment from her husband.

‘How do you know what you’re doing?’ She asked, usual tone back in place as Owen grinned at the sound of his wife’s return.

He hummed, willing to tell her he didn’t just for her reaction. ‘Sarah. She used to cry like nothing else every time her hair was pulled. Would come running to me wherever I was — no matter what I was doing — and would insist I do her hair because I was gentle with her. She taught me to braid too. Can I show you?’ He could feel her hesitate only a few seconds before she nodded, high sound in her throat.

Just like with a brush, Owen’s large hands were gentle. The very same hands that killed men that night, that fed the horses in the stables, that hunted big game for the thrill of it, and the very same hands that had scooped her up so delicately and drew her a bath. She sat still, trying to picture the concentration on his face while she waited for him to finish. When Owen was done gliding his fingers through her red locks, he slid the braid over her shoulder and placed an easy kiss on the side of her neck. She melted into him without issue, hands running over the braid as praised his handy work. It was nothing intricate. He had told her as much, explaining that she only needed something simple to sleep in, enough to keep her hair out of her way and away from his face.

‘C’mon, sleepy girl,’ Owen squeezed her, not oblivious to the tired sag of her body and his own eager need to climb back under the covers and curl around his wife knowing she was safe. ‘Time for bed.’ She nodded but didn’t move, the two of them sitting in the others embrace for a few minutes before Owen tugged at the sheets around her.  

She waited for him to settle before Claire curled herself into his chest, her head tucked under his chin. Sleep found them both quickly, Claire drifting off as soon as her eyes closed as Owen remained away for a little longer. He held her, thumb stroking a line on her arm as he reflected on the fear that plummeted his heart to his stomach the second the castle’s assailants admitted why they were there. He knew Claire was a target for his father, but he never realised that with having her outside of The Citadel she became an easier target to the old king who had only ever kept his youngest close to his heart. If they wanted to hurt The Keepers of the Kingdom, hurting Claire would have been the right way to start.

Owen had vowed angrily, in front of the assailants, his men, his staff and his father that if any harm was directed towards Claire again, and if anyone who wished her arm was allowed access to his wife they would have something else coming.

When he found their chambers empty he feared the worst. Spotting her, bloody in the hallway, still breathing, her attacker dead at her feet, Owen had never felt that much relief in his life. He had not realised how much she meant to him until her life was truly threatened. Claire Dearing had crawled under his skin and he was fine with that. Life or death, he felt like he could fight the world with Claire by his side.

[hibernianbok]

Papa Nordics hcs? Individually, not together!

I’ve been waiting for this

Denmark:

He is child in an adults body. Raising his own children would be a walk in the park! He’s always up for playing pretend or dress up with them and you better believe he will get them a mountain of Lego to play with!

Protect of his child, very. He’s one of those dads that will give his children alot of freedom but as soon as they’re going out with someone he wants to know who they are with and where. No harm shall come to them.

Dad jokes are extremely common, in fact he probably tells his child to call him ‘dadmark’! Every time he makes his child sigh or ugh he laughs and gives them a hair ruffle.

Sometimes it will feel like his child is looking after him, especially when he take them to the toy shop. On many occasions he will be the one buying the toys for his own entertainment. 

Pushes his children to their absolute limits and cheering them on every step of the way. If he knows that his child can do something he will bribe them, cheer them and whatever else to help them achieve their goals!

To annoy his child he does many things. His personal favorite being to tickling their hips till they’re crying with laughter and putting them on his shoulders (Still laughing) and running around the house!

He adores it when his child lets him do their hair, no matter the length or texture. If it’s short he gives them a quiff, if it’s long he’ll give them a danish braid! if it’s mid-way he’ll do plaited pigtails! 

Sometimes when he’s bored and his child is nearby, he’ll make a game out of trying to put his tiny hat on their head without them noticing. If he achieves it he’ll take a picture and posted it on Snap chat.

Trips to the shops to get ingredients is pretty common, he loves to bake with his child! Only the best danish pastries recipes will be taught and anyone who even smells them will being to drool!

When nobody is around or is coming over he will turn the living room into a giant pillow fort! He loves to see the look on his child’s face as they dive into the fort of pillows and blankets he’s made.

Dad rating: Everything is awesome 

Finland:

He is a very caring and fathering man, he is always doing everything he can for his children; the cooking, cleaning, general family bonding, anything to keep them happy!

Strictness wise he is rather flexible. MOST of the time he will brush of misbehavior and give his child a quick scold. Just, don’t make him angry. For the love of everything holy and your safety don’t!

The amount of worrying he does over his children is almost enough to worry about him. He is always on edge when his child is staying at a friends, you better believe he has the friends parents phone number!

You know when your mum/dad/guardian see a friend outside the shop and starts to talk for them for about fifty years? Yeah… he’s that dad. Best bring something to entertain yourself with!

He is very relaxed when it comes to emotional issues, if his children have any problems at all he’ll talk them through it and then give them words of encouragement and enthusiasm!

Also that dad that takes his children to the park and has a flock of mothers surrounding him. All of them are very kind and such, but can he please watch his baby whilst they’re swinging on the monkey bars?

One of the Parent Council dads, he is very involved in his children’s education. Plus he can prove that he’s the best at making cookies! No one can beat Santa’s cookies after all~

Speaking of being Santa, he’s children always get the best presents! But they do have to stay over at uncle Estonia’s house for Christmas eve. Only because he needs to do his job though.

Sauna days with his kids! He loves to just sit back and let the steam engulf him. If the steam is too intense for his child, they can always go for a nice swim in the pool!

He is always giving his children hugs. He will find any excuse to give his kiddo a tight snuggle, good moments and bad! Unless of course they don’t like hugs in which case, hair ruffles are good too! 

Dad rating: Baby in a box (If you don’t get that click: here)

Iceland:

At first, he has no idea what on earth he is doing. For those who are friends/family of Iceland will likely receive 3am phone calls with the topic; ‘What do I do when my child cries?’ 

He is probably that dad that is completely awkward dad that makes jokes at the wrong time, Denmark does that right? Denmark raised him so jokes are a thing that good dads do right? (Send the lad some help please)

Mr.Puffin is the official “HELP ME PARENT PLEASE!” bird, as much as it may annoy the poor puffin it will keep him busy. Family chill time is probably everyone’s favorite time.

Saying all of this, he does try his best. He tries to show his children the wonders of his land and others, as odd as it may seem he knows that the world is very large and he hopes they will see it all!

He enjoys telling them old folktales for bedtime stories! Sometimes he’ll go on for long after his child has fell asleep, so many tales that have been passed on to tell from the people lost in time.

They’re raised to be able to speak more than one language, He can get pretty embarrassed speaking his own language (Source: X (Trivia point!)). He wants his children to be able to wonder the world understand others!

School wise is eeh… He believes that education is the way too success but coming to him with homework or school drama is not the best idea. He either doesn’t know or doesn’t really care.

Discipline wise, he’s got it down to a T, he knows that as soon as the Wifi password is changed and the remotes have been hidden his child is all of a sudden going to be rather nice to him~

To add to the point above, he cannot stand bratty children. From day one he will tell them “You respect me, I respect you” and if they follow that rule then they will be very close!

He can be pretty clingy to his child, he doesn’t like to be surround by people but he’s not a big fan of being all by himself. His child will probably be around him alot to stop him from being too lonely.

Dad rating: How to be a good papa?

Norway:

The chill parent™ literally. He is very tolerant and patient with his children. He will let them do as they please as long as they stay within their boundaries. So long as they do it’s chill™

He will probably put his children on a pedestal like he does Iceland. He’s always going on about how his children are amazing and how cute they look in that outfit he bought them(like Maes from FMA? please tell me if i’m wrong)

To any out lookers, they would say that he’s got a good hand on raising his children. They would be right! Besides the mental screaming and the worrying coffee intake from lack of sleep due to worrying about them, he’s fine! 

Dad jokes are a thing, but in a weird way. His child can say anything and he would pause, stare and murmur a really bad pun under his breath. I.e. ‘Whoa, papa! Look at this!’ ‘……I can’t believe it’s not butter...’ 

He spoils his children more than he is willing to admit, they could see something on TV and he would surprise them with it the next day. He can’t really help it, he doesn’t want them to live like he used to.

Emotional stuff he’s pretty good at! He is able to sit there and listen to any problems his children are facing for hours if he must. He is also willing to hug them and sooth their worries with comforting songs!

Adores telling his children myths and folklore! Sometimes he’ll even take them on drives to the places and introduce them to the creatures that the stories are based around!

Whenever the midnight sun or the Nordic lights are on show he’ll let his children stay up to see them. Joined with the forces of caffeine and warm blankets he’ll sit outside with them all night if they want.

To him, his children are a blessing and something to live for. If he is ever lacking motivation or inspiration he’ll think about his children and BAM! You’ve got one very determined Norwegian.

He takes alot of time off work to spend with his children. He wants to be apart of their lives and for them to always know that he loves them, for him nothing is more important than his family.

Dad rating: Butter hurry up with that homework

Sweden:

This man is a papa and a half! He is already raising two kids (Sealand & Ladonia!) so the man knows what he’s doing. He is always alot more relaxed when with kids and is happy to care for them!

He is very good at keeping his children in line, how exactly? Star charts. He knows that losing a gold star is everyone’s worse nightmare and he will use this to his advantage. Gold stars are given to good kiddos only!

Want a tree house? Because his children are getting a tree mansion! Nearly all of their room’s furniture and toys are made by him, but don’t worry they’re made entirely out of love!

Super protective of his little ones! He would never let any harm come to them whether it be physically, mentally or emotionally. If anyone dares to hurt them he will be knocking on the culprits door at 3am!

Sometimes he’ll take his kids with him for a small fishing trip if the weather is right. Sure camping may be a little boring but it’s the bonding that counts! Plus fishing can be rather relaxing~

He is always willing to participate in games with his little ones, even pretend and sports! If it means that they’re gaining an interest in a possible future career or dream then he will do his best to guide them.

To his children he can seem like a rag doll at certain times, he doesn’t mind them climbing onto his shoulders or letting them borrow his glasses. If it keeps them happy and they’re safe then it’s fine.

Education wise he is the man when his children need help with homework. He will talk them through the problem and give them as much motivation as they need, sometimes in the form of pastries! 

All drawings and school achievements will have a special spot on the fridge for all to see. Any of his little ones achievements will be rewarded with a meal out wherever they want!

His absolute favorite thing in the world is to wake up with his little family all fallen asleep on the sofa with him, he thinks it’s so cute seeing them all snuggled up on top of him with a blanket covering them all~

Dad rating: Swedad