#and i thought coffee the day after was a good idea but it just enhanced my anxiousness; classic mistake

[thetotalfailure]

no cuz like did i really have slow burn anxiety the past few days over having to do a job by myself tomorrow morning hhhgggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr im putting 70% of the blame on these tinctures i bought, the devil is real and he is an evil thc scientist putting 234234523452352353mg of evil weed into everything

my coworker went over what i should do a few times, i summarized it back, if i got issues i just msg him, ezpz... really my only problem is hauling my ass through the valley to get to the location. ok my problem is social anxiety but i just gotta shift into Professional mode. probably not have caffeine until afterwards

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

How the iudex sleeps

Unexpectedly enough Fontaine started wondering how the great judge is productive enough to do all his work and some bizarre ideas start pooping up until the iudex himself says his 'secrets'

Read also: otters sleep holding hands and with their babies on their bellies and I found that incredibly sweet

WC: 1,3K

Cw: gn reader, you both have a baby but it isn't specified if he is biologically related or adopted

‘The chief of justice is a busy person’ is a known fact amongst the citizens of Fontaine, who see him working through many cases plus uncountable quantities of paperwork. That led to a question for some people ‘how does he get enough energy for the day’ at first the common guess was coffee but they were told off by an angry melusine.

“Huff! As if monsieur Neuville would ever drink such things! Only weird humans can drink something that bitter”

That quickly shut down that possibility and led them back to the board of ideas. About that time reporters started to notice how many people seemed interested in maximizing their energy and being awake for longer, while they aren't life changing or particularly interesting sections, some weeks are remarkably unremarkable and anything is better than nothing.

Now every week there would be a few merchants promoting tonics, pallets and pills that enhance energy, even when they would find ways to waltz around trying to mention the judge in their advertisements.

‘Lawfully energetic’

‘as fierce as a dragon’

‘enough to stand 100 trials’

Even if the last one was almost enough for the mermonia palace to get involved for using Neuvillette's name it was vague enough that it got off the hook.

Usually Furina’s crew would be able to rehearse two scenes before tea time but for some reason it was already 2 pm and they were still rehearsing the beginning of the play.

“ I'm sorry, Ms. Furina, I just can't connect two ideas together today” the female lead says as she grabs her head, sighing deeply. Furina touches her back and before she can ask about it someone shares a thought to the air.

“ Oh! Have you tried nilotpala lotus tea? It seems to stimulate the nervous system and clear up brain fog. Maybe the iudex uses that” the man who was supposed to be practicing the piano to match the scene says with a slight poison over his words.

“ Isn't brain fog rich coming from you?” Furina yaps at him “ your tempo was off the whole day” as she looks over his shoulder and rather than seeing a music sheet she finds the newest issue of steambird “what are you even reading? Focus on the piano! We have a show next week!”

She quickly grabs the paper and starts reading the small column with advertisements and tricks, huffing at the idea “stop reading those newspapers and keep rehearsing! The magic fix you are looking for is simply a good night sleeps, like the iudex you are stalking for an answer” she sighs loudly before looking at her crew.

“Is that all?”

“Simply a good night's sleep. What else were you expecting? An extract with 10 times more caffeine than a cup or liyue acupuncture?” She looks at her crew and finds some of them nodding and others seemingly disappointed “now, a break or can we start from the top?”

Unsurprising enough, very few people believed what she claimed, most likely wishing for a strange concoction that can make up for bad habits. Even then a few girls believed it to be rational enough of an answer, seemingly even one of them must have said furina knew his whole nighttime routine causing a hoard of reporters to crowd her door asking senseless questions.

‘Does he use sleep mists?’

‘What kind of fabric are his sheets?”

‘What does he eat before bed? Does he drink water?’

After being stalked everywhere from her home to the supermarket or the café she started dressing up in disguise to escape, luckily a few days after she noticed the quantity of reporters went down and only one came knocking on her door asking about the rescheduling of her play.

“ Oh, yes, we had to reschedule as there was an ‘important trial’ that had to be dealt with urgently. A representative of the palais mermonia apologized for the inconveniences but in the end the most important thing is justice!” furina says with her characteristic theatrical flare. Now looking at the reporter scribbling things on his notebook she adds a bit “the new date will be in two weeks, if someone presents the special meet and greet tickets with the old date they will still be valid”

As he finishes writing he goes off to write the article “thanks miss!”

Now standing on the doorway to the rehearsal room, Furina was expecting the usual sleepy greetings or the usual chitchatter or gossiping but, unusually enough, the whole room was silent and her whole crew was hunched over a spot, their backs facing her.

Clearing her throat she greets them first but they still don't react “ morning? Guys? Are you all okay?” she rounds them trying to get their attention until one of them catches sight of her.

“Director! Look! Monsieur Neuvillette told his secret to the newspapers!” He grabs the yellow paper and holds it to her face, a big bold font meeting her eyes.

CASE MELUSINE AND OTHER QUESTIONS WITH THE IUDEX: PAST CASES TO HIS GREATEST SECRET

‘Greatest secret?’ Furina thinks for a second ‘did he already publicly state to be the hydro dragon? Doesn't seem like it’ but she quickly smiles at her co actor “So? What is his secret?”

But all her crew look at her with a questioning glare “ what we have been wondering all this time? Who would have guessed our director was right!”

“What is that even supposed to mean?!”

Charlotte looks at the pages full questions she prepared for her so desired meeting, who knew that after so long wishing for it she would truly get a chance to interview the iudex, even if half the questions she prepared couldn't be answered for privacy or because the cases weren't closed she got enough material to fill a good pair of pages. Even then she couldn't lose this opportunity and started asking the ‘dumber’ or sillier questions

Looming over one particular line she wonders, would the judge consider it rude for her to ask that given he was giving her his important time but she simply swallows and asks

“How are you able to work through so much work?”

“My apologies?” Neuvillette furrows his brows and looks confused “I don't think I quite understand what you mean”

Charlotte breathes in deeply before elaborating “People have been wondering how you have enough energy to do all the work you are able to do”

Neuvillette stays silent for a second with his eyes closed

“It's known the iudex doesn't talk about his private life, so if you don't want to answer-”

“ It's not that” Neuvillette reassures her calmly “it wasn't a question I was expecting, that is all” he crosses his legs and details as Charlotte writes

But regardless of how many tries we have thrown to the ceiling we all were wrong, the way our judge is able to power through the day is simple actually, a comfortable bed and his beloved family. Even if he refused to expand on information about his family he did speak more about his routine.

“I'm unsure why people care so much suddenly but it's very simple, really, I always sleep with my lover in bed and keep our child on my chest” even as Charlotte choked on her own spit at a sudden juicy revelation neuvillette barely glanced over the rim of his goblet “we are also rather particular about bedding, but for now we settled on silk flower sheets made I'm liyue”

As he drinks water a small smile creeps up his lips, remembering that very morning vividly, his fingers firmly entangled with yours, almost as if he fears you would leave and meet a cold spot when he wakes up, even when you are practically hugging his side. Or your young baby peeking his head out of his father's sleeping shirt and feeling the soft beating of his heart with a pleased face.

Hm, he is sure that is why he always wakes up with enough energy to power through his duties .

Opening his eyes he finds Charlotte with small tears on her lashes and muttering ‘how sweet’.

“ So about your son…?”

“No”

“Understood”

[bunnyreaper]

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders. 

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.) 

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge. 

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora. 

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door. 

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me." 

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing. 

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in." 

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does. 

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail. 

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over. 

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be. 

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show. 

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club. 

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you. 

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently." 

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats. 

"Yeah, she's really worried." 

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything." 

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge. 

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour. 

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon." 

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party." 

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better." 

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections." 

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass. 

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work." 

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree." 

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse. 

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted. 

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously. 

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to. 

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye." 

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure. 

"How many friends?" He asks. 

"4." You answer instantly. 

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave. 

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass." 

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless. 

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.  

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through. 

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature. 

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni." 

"We can go over names and details when you're ready." 

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do." 

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say. 

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?" 

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners. 

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do." 

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours." 

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then." 

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out. 

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?" 

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."  

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter. 

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits. 

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine." 

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"  

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly. 

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man. 

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home." 

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment. 

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain. 

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party. 

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside. 

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you. 

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?" 

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further. 

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin. 

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms. 

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly. 

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then." 

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw. 

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road. 

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so. 

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it." 

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security. 

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things." 

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

 *

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit. 

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct. 

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more. 

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?" 

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me." 

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics." 

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover. 

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive." 

"I'll try to make it as little as possible." 

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?" 

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please." 

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?" 

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work." 

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations." 

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause." 

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me." 

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."  

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it. 

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan." 

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions." 

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable." 

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common." 

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."  

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine." 

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?" 

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass." 

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn chapter summary: new ideas, a heavy storm, shadow puppets, and a slumber party. a little bit angsty but I balanced it out I promise.

Chapter three

After you and the Diaz Brothers finish up all of your Tamales and wrapped up the conversation, you return to your modest house, a cozy space with a view of the ocean. Settling down at your makeshift desk—a sturdy wooden table with a stack of papers and a laptop—you begin to structure the business plans for Diaz’s Garage. When you woke up this morning you couldn’t have thought that tonight you would be sitting at your desk returning to your role as a business manager especially not for Sean Diaz the local mechanic. 

The sound of waves crashing against the shore outside provides a soothing background as you spread out notes. Ideas for expanding the garage's services and enhancing its appeal to the community fill your mind. You envision new service packages, partnerships with local businesses, and sustainable practices that could set Diaz’s Garage apart. Sean has been talking about expanding the Garage, so that would be the first idea you will be working on. 

“So, regular maintenance packages…” you mutter aloud, jotting down notes and adjusting numbers on your laptop screen. The possibilities seem endless, fueled by Sean's vision and your own growing understanding of the local market. You work for hours and hours on these plans. Honestly, you totally forgot that you are a master in this field and the Diaz Garage, as well as Sean and Daniel, are so different from the workplace you had back home. It all feels so exciting and new and it makes you want to pull an all-nighter, but that wouldn’t be very smart so after a few hours and many good ideas and plans you decide to wrap things up and go to bed. Excitement bubbled within you as you drove through the familiar streets of Puerto Lobos once again, heading towards Diaz’s Garage. Today was the day you planned to present Sean with your refined business ideas, eager to discuss the future of the garage over breakfast. You sent him a text last night, asking if it would be okay to come over in the morning, and the gentleman that he is Sean answered that he would be preparing a nice breakfast and be waiting for you. The morning sun painted the town a golden hue, and the salty breeze from the ocean filled your senses with a sense of anticipation.

Pulling up to the garage, you found Sean already waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall with a charming smile on his face. His hair, tousled by the ocean breeze, only added to his relaxed demeanor.

"Hey there," Sean greeted you with a grin, his eyes lighting up as he approached your car. "You look like you've got big plans brewing today."

You stepped out of the car, returning his smile. "Big plans indeed. Can't wait to hear what you think."

Sean chuckled softly. "I’m all ears. But first, breakfast."

He gestured towards a small table set up with breakfast under a nearby awning. The spread included fresh fruit, pastries, and a pot of steaming coffee. The aroma of the coffee mixed with the salty air, created a perfect backdrop for serious business talk and playful banter.

As you sat down, Sean poured you a cup of coffee and sat across from you. "So, what’s the big idea?"

You took a sip of the coffee, savoring the moment before launching into your plans. "I’ve been thinking about expanding the garage’s services—regular maintenance packages and eco-friendly options. I’ve also found some potential partnerships with local businesses that could really boost our visibility." Daniel, who had just joined you and already started snacking on some of the fruits, perks up at the mention of new ideas. “Do you think we could start doing custom modifications? Like those cars you see in magazines?”

Sean nods, smiling at his younger brother’s enthusiasm. “Absolutely, Daniel. And I think with your creativity, we could really make a name for ourselves.”You glance at Sean, impressed by his vision and determination. “It sounds ambitious, but I think it could work. Especially with the right partnerships and marketing.”

Sean meets your gaze, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. “That’s what I like about having you around. You see the potential in things.” You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for the opportunity to contribute. “I believe in what you’re doing here, Sean. And I’m excited to see where we can take Diaz’s Garage.”

Sean nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you with genuine interest. "Sounds like you’ve been busy. I like where this is going. Sustainability is definitely a selling point around here. And custom mods? That could attract a whole new clientele."

Encouraged by his response, you leaned forward, the playful glint in your eye matching his. "I knew you'd see the potential. With your expertise and my ideas, Diaz’s Garage could become the talk of Puerto Lobos."

Sean chuckled a hint of flirtation in his voice. "Well, we already are the talk of the town, but I’m all for making a bigger splash."

The morning passed in a blur of productive discussion and shared laughter, each idea sparking new possibilities and strengthening the connection between you and Sean. His ability to blend professionalism with playful banter kept the atmosphere lively and engaging. “So, what’s next on our path to world domination?” Sean teased, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

You laughed, enjoying the easy camaraderie. "First, Puerto Lobos. Then, who knows? The world might not be ready for us yet."

Sean leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Well, let’s start with Puerto Lobos then. We’ll take it one custom modification at a time."

As you and Sean continue to brainstorm and outline plans for the future of the garage, the sky outside begins to darken, signaling the approaching storm. “Looks like a storm’s coming,” Daniel says, worry creeping into his voice.

Sean glances out the window and nods. “A big one, by the looks of it. Maybe we should start securing the place.” Well you think to yourself, this took a quick turn. Nonetheless, you quickly get up from your seat and immediately begin to help.

You and Sean quickly begin preparing the garage for the impending storm. You help move the more valuable tools and parts to higher shelves, while Sean checks the drainage around the building. Daniel, sensing the urgency, pitches in without hesitation. For the whole time that you have been living here in Puerto Lobos, the weather has always been nice, of course, there were some rainy days but Daniel and Sean sure seem to be preparing for the end of the world. 

As the wind picks up and the first drops of rain begin to fall, you realize the storm is going to be worse than you all anticipated. The town’s streets quickly become rivers of muddy water, and the power flickers before finally going out. The Garage is pitch Black and you now really have to squint your eyes in order for you to see something. You wish you could at least grab some candles, but there is just not enough time, the rain is already pouring so heavily you are scared it might flood the whole place.

“We need to get the sandbags,” Sean says, his voice steady but urgent. “We keep them in the back for situations like this.”

Together, you and Daniel follow Sean to the back of the garage, where you haul out heavy sandbags and position them around the garage’s entrance to keep the water out. The rain pounds down harder, and the wind howls through the trees, but the three of you work in tandem, your efforts synchronized.

“Grab that side,” Sean instructs, pointing to a particularly heavy bag. You and Daniel lift it together, your muscles straining but your determination unwavering. The storm’s fury outside seems to strengthen your resolve.

As you work, you notice Daniel’s hands shaking slightly, his eyes darting nervously at the storm outside. You exchange a concerned glance with Sean, who gives you a reassuring nod. 

Inside the garage, the three of you take shelter as the storm rages outside. The power outage leaves you in near darkness, save for the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the room. You find a few candles and light them, their warm glow creating a small island of light in the otherwise dark and stormy night.

Daniel huddles close to you and Sean, his fear evident. “I really hate storms,” he admits, his voice small. Poor Daniel you think to yourself. When you were a little kid you also always were scared of these kinds of storms, especially thunder used to give you the heebie-jeebies. 

Sean wraps an arm around his brother, pulling him close. “Hey, we’re safe here. The garage is sturdy, and we’ve done everything we can to keep the water out.”

You reach out, placing a comforting hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Think of it as an adventure, it’s like we’re on a mission to save the garage from the storm! And we’re winning. We’re here together, and we’ll get through this.”

Daniel nods, trying to be brave. “Yeah, like a mission. We’ve got this.”

As the storm rages on, you all sit close, the howling wind and pounding rain a constant backdrop. To lighten the mood, you start sharing stories.

Trying to cheer Daniel up, you say, “I remember one time during a blackout, my friends and I made shadow puppets on the wall. It was silly, but it made us forget the storm outside.”

Daniel manages a small smile. “Maybe we should try that.”

Sean grins. “Why not? It might be fun.” He turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Got any good shadow puppet skills to show off?”

You laugh, glad for the distraction. “I might have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

As you and Sean make various shadow puppets on the wall, Daniel’s laughter gradually replaces his fear. The tension eases, and the storm outside becomes a distant worry. The living room feels less like a refuge from the storm and more like a sanctuary of shared strength. Hours pass in a blur of stories, games, and moments of quiet contemplation interrupted only by the storm’s relentless assault outside.

Eventually, exhaustion catches up with you all. Sean looks out the window, the storm still raging with no sign of letting up.

“I can’t let you drive back home in this storm,” he says, his voice carrying genuine concern. “It’s too dangerous out there right now.” You glance outside at the torrential rain and nod in agreement. “Yeah, it’s pretty wild out there. I don’t think I’d make it far.”

Sean nods thoughtfully, then stands up with determination. “I’ll set up the couch for you. It’s not much, but at least you’ll be dry and safe here.”

Grateful for his concern, you offer a faint smile. “Thanks, Sean. I appreciate it.”

He nods, his expression softening. “Of course. We’re all in this together.”

With careful steps to avoid the scattered tools and equipment, Sean clears a path to the couch in the living room. He pulls out a blanket and fluffs the pillows, creating a makeshift but comfortable spot for you to spend the night.

“There,” Sean says, gesturing toward the couch. “It’s not the four seasons, but it should do the job. Get some rest. We’ll figure things out in the morning.” As you settle onto the couch, Daniel stands nearby, looking a bit hesitant. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Daniel. Thanks for asking.”

Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair affectionately. “Alright, bud. Time for bed. We’ve all had a long day.” Daniel reluctantly heads to his room, and Sean lingers for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. “Goodnight,” he says softly. “If you need anything, my room’s just down the hall.”

“Goodnight, Sean. And thanks again.”

Sean gives you a warm smile before heading to his own room, leaving you in the quiet and comfort of the living room. As you drift off to sleep, the storm’s roar outside gradually fades into a distant rumble, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude for the unexpected refuge found in the midst of the tempest. Hours later, you’re jolted awake by a loud crash of thunder. Disoriented and groggy, you struggle to get your bearings. The room is dim, lit only by the flickering light of a candle. The storm outside is relentless, the wind howling like a wild beast, and the rain pounding against the windows in a chaotic symphony.

Suddenly, you hear the unmistakable sound of Daniel’s voice, filled with fear. “Sean! Sean!” His voice is a high-pitched wail, cutting through the storm’s roar. You sit up, your heart racing, and see Daniel standing in the hallway, his small frame shaking visibly with fear.

Sean, ever vigilant, is instantly alert. He emerges from his room in a rush, his eyes wide with concern. “Daniel, it’s okay. It’s just a storm,” he says, wrapping his arms around Daniel in a protective hug. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

You rise from the couch, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the frightened boy. Moving to stand beside them, you gently place a hand on Daniel’s back. “Hey, Daniel,” you say softly, your voice calm and soothing. “We’re all here, and we’re all safe.”

The three of you move back to the living room, where the flickering candlelight casts long, comforting shadows on the walls. The storm’s rage seems slightly muted within the warm, dim glow. Sean guides Daniel to the couch, his arm still wrapped around his brother’s shoulders. You sit beside them, your presence a steadying force.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispers, his voice trembling as he looks up at you both. “I just… I got so scared.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Sean murmurs, pulling him close and ruffling his hair gently. “Storms can be really scary. But we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

You nod in agreement, giving Daniel a reassuring smile. “Yeah, and we’re not going anywhere. We’ll stay right here until it’s over.”

Daniel looks up at you both, his fear slowly subsiding. “Can I stay with you guys?” he asks, his voice small but hopeful.

“Of course,” Sean says immediately, his voice firm and comforting. “We’ll all stay right here.”

The three of you huddle together on the couch, the storm’s fury raging outside but feeling less threatening with each passing minute. You start sharing stories again, trying to lighten the mood and distract Daniel from the storm. Sean tells a funny story about their old neighbor in Seattle who used to garden in his pajamas, making Daniel giggle despite himself.

You join in, sharing a silly memory from your own childhood, and soon the living room is filled with soft laughter. The candlelight dances across your faces, casting a warm glow that contrasts sharply with the storm’s cold, harsh presence outside. The howling wind and the thunder’s roar become background noise as you all focus on the stories and each other’s company.

As the night wears on, Daniel’s eyelids grow heavy, his fear slowly giving way to exhaustion. Sean wraps an arm around his brother, pulling him close, and you find yourself leaning against the armrest, feeling a sense of peace despite the storm outside.

“Remember that time we camped in the backyard, and the tent collapsed?” Sean asks, his voice soft and filled with nostalgia.

Daniel nods sleepily, a small smile on his face. “Yeah… you blamed it on a bear,” he mumbles, snuggling closer to Sean.

Sean chuckles. “It was probably just the wind. But you were so brave.”

You reach out and gently squeeze Daniel’s hand. “You’re brave now, too. Storms can be scary, but you’re handling it really well.”

Daniel looks up at you with sleepy eyes, his fear almost gone. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I feel better with you guys here.”

As the storm continues its relentless assault outside, exhaustion eventually overtakes you all. Sean, Daniel and you nestle together on the couch, finding warmth and safety in your closeness. The candle burns low, its light casting a gentle glow on your faces.

The last thing you hear before sleep claims you is the steady rhythm of rain against the windows, the wind’s howl gradually fading into the background. The warmth of the Diaz brothers by your side and the knowledge that you’re all in this together brings a deep sense of comfort and peace.

authors note: hihi i hope you guys liked this chapter, I mean whats a better way to get to know somebody than being locked up because of a huge storm right? anyway even though Daniel is already sixteen in this fic he will always be a little kid deep inside of my heart. I cant wait to continue this fic and I am excited to hear about your opinions.

[yoonavii]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

Rich bachelor! Law x Reader

Description: On your courthouse wedding day, hope and determination fueled you, but your fiancé's absence and the revelation of a secret girlfriend shattered your dreams. In that moment of heartbreak, Trafalgar Law, an eligible and wealthy bachelor driven by the need for his family's inheritance, appeared. He offered a life-altering proposition: marry him in exchange for financial security. You immediately accepted without hesitation, unaware of the thrilling twists and turns awaiting you on the unexpected love journey.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

As you held onto Law’s arm, your mind raced with the sudden whirlwind of events. The judge’s complaint about being off schedule echoed in your ears, and you felt a twinge of guilt for causing the disruption. Law, standing beside you with an air of confidence, seemed unphased by the judge’s irritation. You glanced at him with gratitude for his support, and he turned to you with a soft smile. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you. “We can wait for the judge’s lunch break to be over.” The judge, his impatience evident, departed from the room, and you were left alone with Law. His determination to make this courthouse wedding special for you was both surprising and touching. He leaned closer and said, “I’ll arrange for a hair and makeup stylist. You should look your best for this occasion.” You were about to decline once more when he interrupted with a chuckle, “Trust me, you’ll feel much better after a little makeover. Besides, my father might arrive any moment. I want you to make a good impression.”

The mention of meeting Law’s father so soon after this unexpected turn of events did indeed stress you out. You nodded reluctantly, realizing that this day was taking a trajectory you couldn’t have predicted, and you would need to face it with newfound resolve. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to strike up a conversation with Law while you waited for the judge’s lunch break to end. “What’s your father like?” you inquired. Law sighed, his expression reflecting a mix of emotions. “He can be a bit much,” he admitted, “and overly excited at times.” There was a hint of weariness in his voice as he spoke about his father. As you absorbed this information, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness about meeting him, especially without some kind of complete rundown about how to approach and property address him. 

The arrival of the hair and makeup artist was a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions you had been experiencing. She got straight to work, using her skills to enhance your features and create a stunning look that left you feeling surprisingly gorgeous, despite the chaotic circumstances.While you were in the midst of your transformation, a tailor arrived with a suit for Law. As he changed into the well-fitted suit, it became apparent just how effortlessly he wore it. The suit complemented his tall and slender frame, accentuating his already striking appearance. Despite the stress and uncertainties that had marked the day, the transformation for both you and Law added a touch of elegance and formality to the occasion, making you feel more prepared for the impending meeting with his father.

As you and Law continued to prepare for your courthouse wedding, you suggested the idea of creating a love story for how you met, something that would give a sense of depth to your unexpected union. Law considered the idea and nodded in agreement.

"I like that," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "So, how did we meet?"

You thought for a moment and then decided on a story that seemed fitting for the circumstances. "Well," you began, "I'm a part-time barista at a cozy little coffee shop. You could have been one of my regular customers, and over time, we struck up conversations, became friends, and eventually, our friendship blossomed into something more. Law chuckled softly, seeming to appreciate the simplicity and charm of the story. It was a narrative that would give your courthouse wedding a touch of romantic serendipity, despite the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As Law’s father arrived, his tall and elegant figure immediately commanded attention. He was dressed impeccably, showcasing his wealth and sophistication. His joyful greeting to Law, filled with genuine paternal affection, brought forth a subtle reaction of embarrassment and annoyance from Law. To everyone’s surprise, Law’s father had a bright and colorful personality that radiated warmth and energy. Law, with a hint of pride in his voice, took the opportunity to introduce you as his fiancée. Then, with a charming smile, he continued with a white lie, “Dad, I’ve been looking forward to introducing y/n to you for a long time.” You played along with the plan, offering a polite greeting to your new father-in-law. However, you were not prepared for the next unexpected twist. Instead of a formal handshake, Law’s father surprised both you and Law with a warm and heartfelt hug. His genuine enthusiasm and acceptance in that moment were palpable, making you feel surprisingly at ease.

After the hug, he turned his attention to you, inquiring about your parents and assuming they wouldn’t want to miss your special day. You hesitated briefly before revealing, “I’m an orphan sir. I don’t have a family,” Your revelation took both Law and his father by surprise. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to a mixture of sympathy and understanding. It was clear that your words had struck a chord, and the room fell momentarily silent as they absorbed the unexpected truth about your background.

Breaking the silence, Law’s father spoke, his voice filled with comforting warmth as he addressed you directly, “My dear, I’m truly sorry to hear that. But from this day forward, you’re a part of our family. You’ll have us by your side.” His heartfelt words brought a genuine smile to your face, and you felt a warmth spreading in your heart. You had never experienced the presence of a true father figure or the sense of belonging that this unexpected turn of events had brought into your life.

———-

The judge, with a sense of solemnity, began, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the union of y/n and Law in marriage. In the presence of these witnesses and before the law, you have expressed your desire to be united in matrimony. Please proceed with your vows.”

You and Law, standing side by side, then exchanged heartfelt vows based on the story you both created. You began, your voice filled with sincerity “Law, our story began in the most unexpected way, as if fate had conspired to bring us together. You walked into my life as a regular customer, but little did I know that those daily encounters would lead to something as beautiful as this. I promise to cherish the memories we’ve created and the love that has blossomed between us. With you, I see a future filled with joy, laughter, and endless cups of coffee. I vow to be your partner in all of life’s adventures, just as our story has been an adventure of its own.”

Law, with a hint of a smile, continued, “Our story is unlike any other, and that’s what makes it so special. Y/n, from the moment I walked into that café and met you, I knew there was something unique about us. Today, as we stand here ready to embark on this journey together, I promise to honor the story we’ve created. I’ll be the one who’s always there to order that cup of coffee, to share conversations that brighten our days, and to be by your side in all of life’s twists and turns. I look forward to every chapter of our story, knowing that it will be as extraordinary as the day we met.”

With the exchange of vows complete, a sense of anticipation filled the courtroom. The judge, with an air of authority, directed both you and Law to sign the marriage license. As you both approached the document, the room was filled with a quiet sense of purpose.Carefully gripping the pen, you watched as Law signed his name beside yours. It was a tangible symbol of the commitment you were making, an agreement that transcended the circumstances that had brought you together.

With the signatures now adorning the marriage license, the judge, a warm and reassuring smile on their face, declared, "By the authority vested in me by the laws of this state, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The room seemed to hold its collective breath, and a sense of satisfaction washed over those present. This unconventional courthouse wedding had turned into a unique and unforgettable experience for everyone involved.

The judge's voice continued, "You may seal this union with a kiss."

Law turned to you, his eyes locking onto yours, and in that moment, unspoken emotions passed between you. With a nod of agreement from you, he leaned in, closing the distance between you both, and kissed you on the lips. It was a moment that went beyond the legalities of the situation, carrying with it a sense of genuine connection and the promise of a unique journey ahead. As Law's father clapped happily and the judge's words still hung in the air, the atmosphere in the courtroom remained charged with a sense of significance. However, before Law's father could express his happiness verbally, his phone rang, momentarily diverting his attention. He excused himself politely and stepped away from the wedding scene to answer the call, leaving you and Law alone for a moment.

Seizing this opportunity, Law leaned in slightly and, in a confidential tone, shared a revelation that left you stunned. "My father is the CEO of Corazon Inc., one of the most successful corporations in the New World." The weight of this revelation settled upon you, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity about the world into which you had just married. The significance of your union had taken an unexpected turn with this newfound knowledge.

Law, ever the practical planner, continued, "I'll need your address and phone number so that I can make arrangements for you and your belongings to be brought to our house." With a nod of understanding, you provided Law with your contact information, your thoughts racing with questions and possibilities. You couldn't deny the sense of awe and trepidation as you realized the transformative nature of this moment in your life, married to a man whose family's influence extended to the highest echelons of success and power in the New World.

The transition from day to night was marked by the arrival of a sudden and intense thunderstorm that swept through the city. Rain poured relentlessly, creating a backdrop of soothing yet turbulent noise against the cityscape. Seeking a break from the packing, you found yourself gazing out of your apartment window, drawn to the storm's fierce beauty. Through the rain-streaked glass, you noticed a sleek, high-end SUV parked elegantly at the curb. It was the vehicle Law had arranged to transport your belongings to your new home. The sight of that luxurious SUV, gleaming even in the midst of the storm, was a reminder of the extraordinary circumstances that had brought you here. Your life was poised for a significant transformation, and this surreal day was evidence of that.

Turning away from the window, you returned to your task with renewed determination. The remaining boxes, filled with your cherished possessions, required careful packing and sealing. You worked methodically, the sound of the storm outside serving as a soothing backdrop to your preparations. Each box represented a piece of your past, and you were now on the threshold of a new life as the wife of a man whose family's wealth and influence held the promise of a future you had never imagined.

——

The rhythmic patter of rain against the window intensified as Sarquiss, your ex-fiancé, stepped into your apartment. His presence seemed to cast a shadow over the room, and you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that accompanied his unexpected visit. As you reluctantly allowed him inside, the air thickened with unresolved tension. “Get your things and leave,” you instructed, your voice carrying the weight of past betrayals. Sarquiss, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the situation, began collecting his belongings with a nonchalant air. The atmosphere grew strained with each passing moment, the anticipation of a confrontation palpable.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Law, your newly revealed husband, ascended the apartment stairs. His footsteps, muffled by the persistent rain, marked his approach. As the argument between you and Sarquiss intensified, Law’s figure appeared in the doorway, an umbrella in hand. His entrance was a study in contrast — the imposing figure of Law in a well-tailored suit against the backdrop of your modest living space. The room seemed to shrink in the face of his presence. “I believe you’re Sarquiss,” Law’s voice cut through the rising tension, his tone firm and unwavering.

Sarquiss, visibly taken aback, replied with a sardonic smirk, “And who might you be, the replacement?” “I’m her husband. Law Trafalgar,” Law stated, his name carrying a weight that echoed authority. Sarquiss, attempting to regain his composure, quipped, “Well, you certainly upgraded.”

Law, unfazed, turned his attention to you with a subtle yet possessive familiarity. “Alright  n/n, I’ll arrange for movers to complete the transfer of your belongings to our new house. No need to stay in this place any longer.” A sense of relief washed over you, grateful for Law’s intervention. But before you could fully process the moment, Law’s gaze focused on Sarquiss. In a calculated move, Law gently lifted your chin, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was a deliberate act, a statement that left Sarquiss seething with anger. Sarquiss, attempting to mask his wounded pride, sneered, “You’re enjoying your upgrade, huh?” Law, his expression unyielding, responded, “You should leave now, before things become less pleasant.”

The room hung in suspense as Sarquiss, fueled by resentment, prepared to deliver a final verbal blow. However, before he could utter a word, two imposing figures, resembling security personnel, entered the apartment at Law’s silent command. Law, maintaining his poised demeanor, issued a final ultimatum, “Leave on your own, or my security will assist you in a less pleasant manner.” Sooner than later, the departure of Sarquiss brought a palpable sense of relief to the room. The atmosphere, previously fraught with tension, now seemed to settle. You turned to Law, gratitude evident in your eyes as you expressed your thanks. “Thank you for handling that,” you said, the words carrying a weight of sincere appreciation.

Law, maintaining his composed demeanor, nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s taken care of,” he replied succinctly, his gaze steady. Wanting to offer a tangible token of gratitude, you remembered your homemade applesauce—a recipe passed down through generations. A faint smile graced your lips as you extended the invitation. “I make a mean applesauce. Care for a taste?” The warmth in your voice carried a hint of hospitality. Law, with his customary reserve, initially declined the offer. However, undeterred, you persisted, your insistence reflecting a desire to bridge the gap between the tumultuous events that had just transpired and a newfound connection. “I insist,” you said, presenting him with a small bowl of the homemade delicacy.

There was a moment of hesitation in Law’s expression, a subtle pause that intrigued you. Eventually, he accepted the small bowl, his gaze briefly meeting yours in a quiet acknowledgment. As Law took a spoonful of the applesauce, a flicker of surprise crossed his features. The unexpected blend of flavors seemed to catch him off guard. “It’s good,” he admitted, the words carrying a genuine note of appreciation.

A small smile played on your lips as you observed his reaction. The act of sharing a simple bowl of applesauce became a nuanced exchange—an interlude between the storm of emotions that had just unfolded and the quiet beginning of a connection that defied the expected. As Law finished the last spoonful of the homemade applesauce, he set the empty bowl aside and turned his attention to you. With a decisive tone, he instructed you to gather all that was important, emphasizing the need for a swift departure to your new home.

Acting promptly, you retrieved your to-go bag containing essential items, slipping on a pair of practical crocs for the impromptu journey. As you hurriedly followed Law out the door, one of the security personnel, a silent figure in the background, took the initiative to hold your bags for you. Grateful, you expressed your thanks, and the security personnel responded with a simple hum and nod. Descending the stairs, the sound of your steps echoed in the stairwell as Law provided a unique instruction that left you momentarily perplexed. "Don't get on any social media platforms until the next day. " he advised, the cryptic nature of the statement adding an element of mystery to the unfolding events. His words lingered in the air as you descended further, the rain outside still a gentle backdrop. The city, cloaked in the soothing embrace of the evening storm, felt like a canvas on which a new chapter of your life was about to be painted. With each step, you couldn't help but wonder about the secrets and surprises that awaited you in the newly established home you and your newly husband will reside in. 

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey, I have a Matt x y/n reader request.

After a visit to St. Agnes you gush about the kids you spent the day with and how nice it would be to have a child. Matt has a mission, he wants to start a family with you and fucks you until he achieves his goal 😏 You have no idea of anything until you notice the first signs of pregnancy Matt later tells you about his successful plan

thank you for your request! I don’t read or write pregnancy ones, so this is pure imagination, but tried my very best for you anon😉hope you like it💌

growing by one (M.M x F reader)

wc: 1.1k

warnings: brief implication of intercourse. other than that just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

You and Matt would spend every alternating weekend volunteering at St Agnes; you’d play games with the children, chat with them, the lot. Sometimes you’d even tell them stories about how the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saved you a few times. Matt would act coy while you described the events, but the kids adored your stories- they’d gasp and cheer along. Even though you didn’t have enhanced senses, you could tell it made Matt’s heart beat a little faster.

Walking arm in arm down the busy street, making your way home after a day at the orphanage. You had an awful case of verbal diarrhoea today, you couldn’t stop talking about the kids. “You know that little girl that always sits near you? She was so sweet today- she said the cutest thing!” You said cheerfully, playfully squeezing his free arm.

“What did she say?” He asked genuinely.

Giggling before you continued, “she said that you always talk about me… and then she called me Miss Murdock.” You beamed.

He grinned widely as his head stayed straight ahead. “That's because I call you that in front of them.” Now lacing his free hand in yours, gently pulsing it.

“You do?” You sweetly asked.

“Mhmm. All the time.” He said with sincerity.

Without realising you turn a little quiet, now having a conversation with your brain instead. He immediately notices, even with the noisy overwhelming streets he can still hear your mind.

“You okay?” He softly coos as he opens the front door to your shared apartment- now in the quiet comfort of home.

“Today- it just. It made me remember how much I want kids, y’know? Sorry if that’s weird to say.” You admit, kicking off your shoes before placing them in the corner, to avoid Matt tripping on them.

“That’s not weird to say at all. If we’re going to be having this conversation right now, I want you to know that I’ve dreamt of being the father to your children for a long time. I just didn’t want to scare you away.” He reassures, chuckling at the end of his sentence.

“Really?” You beam, grinning wide as your nose scrunched up.

“Mhmm. Could you imagine a combination of a mini you and I running around? I’d love children, especially if they were yours.” He says sweetly.

You had no idea he had felt this way. It was the kind of conversation that can make or break a relationship. It was something that was hard to bring up, you didn’t want it to feel awkward either. But, it felt perfect, like you were both thinking the same thing but just too scared to say anything.

//

It had been several weeks since your last talk about future children with Matt. Neither of you had mentioned anything about it, feeling slightly uncomfortable as if you don’t know how to reproach the topic again- like you were both secretly having doubts. You were so in sync that even your thoughts were in the same.

You and Matt have been chilling on the sofa for the better half of the day, you were catching up on your reading, while Matt did the same to his audiobooks. Feeling your tummy grumble, you placed your book open face down on the coffee table in front, slipping yourself from the comfort of Matt to head to the kitchen.

Hustling around the kitchen, opening the cupboards and scrounging around for something that sounds good, turning your nose up at the huge bag of sweet potatoes. Having no luck, turning to the fridge. “Why are there so many berries?” You quietly said to yourself.

“What’s that?” He asks while taking off his already paused headphones.

“Nothing, I just really fancy some crappy food, something salty and there are all these… yoghurts and- and protein?” you said to yourself but loud enough for him to hear.

“We can order some in?” He asks sitting up.

“Wait-?” You interrupt, lost in thought as your eyes darted around at the food displayed in front. “What’s the date today?” You ask, keeping your eyes glued on the sack of potatoes on the counter.

“It’s the fifteenth, Angel.” He wearingly says, trying not to startle you.

Your eyes widened as a full thought came to mind. “Ohmygod ohmygod” your brain raced. Neck snapping to look at him, “uh- I think I’ve missed my period.” Trying to fight off a smile.

Your eyes were so unfocused, that you didn’t see Matt do the same thing.

“AH!” You shrieked, pacing around the kitchen.

“Want to take a test?” He says while beaming, feeling your excitement as well as his own.

“I don’t have any, I’ll have to go get some tomorrow- the store is closed now.” You said almost flatly, feeling the bubble of happiness pop.

“What if I told you, I have some.” Grinning.

“No way?” You asked happily.

“Mhmm, in the bag under my side of the bed- I think it’s white- but don’t quote me.”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his sentence, you just bolted across the living room into the bedroom. Finding the tests and holding it successfully as you jumped upright. Pausing for a moment as you walked into the living room.

“Matt…?” You lingered slowly.

“Yes, my Angel?” He says, copying your tone.

“Why do you have these?” Gently shaking the box. “Wait- the berries and the cheeses…?”

“Uh-”

Smiling wider, finally connecting the dots. “You’ve been doing the shopping recently- and these foods help with fertility… Matt. And- we’ve been at it like rabbits recently, have you been getting them on purpose?”

“Don’t hate me if I say, yes. But the last part is purely just because I love you so much.”

“That’s really rather sweet!” Feeling your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “The suspense is killing me, I’ll be right back.” Briskly walking to the bathroom.

“Hey?” Matt calls out. “If it’s not what you hoped, it’s okay, we can try again.” He reassures.

“I know, I love you.” You smile, closing the door behind you.

Waiting impatiently on the toilet for the test to show its results, little did you know Matt was on the other side of the door, listening to your unsteady heartbeat. He gently knocked on it, walking in when you opened the door for him.

He kneels in front of you between your legs, brushing a string of hair behind your ear. You thought he was there to reassure and comfort you, but then you see his other hand come from behind his back. Holding it out in front of you, as your eyes bugged out your head. It was the test. You didn’t even notice him pick it up from the sink.

“I think it’s time.” Smiling up at you.

Heart thumping as you saw the positive, you couldn’t believe it. Trying to contain your excitement.

“Matt… it says positive.”

He doesn’t even say anything, he just sweeps you up and spins you around while kissing all over your face. Both giggling contagiously. Setting you down to kiss you tenderly. Your family growing by one.

[cup-half-full-of-anxiety]

Obsessed

Warning: None. Just fluff. No use of y/n

Summary: Eddie can't get enough of his daughter. He could watch her all day. Inspired by this tiktok.

Eddie x Original Reader

1,600+ words

-----

The idea of fatherhood was something that always haunted Eddie. It wasn’t that he couldn’t picture a perfect little blend of himself and his future wife filling their home with laughter and mischief; it was just that he hadn't exactly been fortunate enough to have a role model in the dad department. Wayne, his steadfast guardian, had shown him what it meant to be a man and to care for a home. Though Wayne was the father figure Eddie needed, his own dad had left a dark stain on the concept of fatherhood.

Everything changed five months ago when his perfect daughter was placed in his arms. In that instant, all the lingering fears and doubts were swept away. Eddie had thought after meeting his wife that his heart was filled to the brim, never imagining there could be room for more love. But he was blissfully wrong. The moment his daughter’s hazel eyes met his, he was utterly captivated. The feeling was more exhilarating than any high he had ever experienced; nothing could compare to this overwhelming rush of joy and love.

He was officially an addict. The soothing scent of his daughter's head was his antidote to anxiety, and listening to her gentle breaths as she slept on his chest brought him an unparalleled sense of peace. Her smile, especially that first time her face lit up when he came home from work, made him feel like he was floating. That same euphoria filled him now as he poured coffee into a mug for his loving wife.

Just after 8 a.m., Eddie had made his way to the kitchen, leaving his wife nursing their daughter. He smiled to himself, marveling at how motherhood had only enhanced her beauty. She had always been perfection in his eyes, but seeing her body nurture and bring their child into the world elevated her to an almost ethereal level. He could never have imagined reaching this pinnacle of happiness.

Balancing a tray with two coffees, a blueberry muffin, and a bowl of cut fruit, he made his way back to their room. As the door creaked open, his smile widened, taking in the scene before him: his daughter, sleeping peacefully on their bed; his wife, propped up against the headboard; and their two plump cats, basking in the sunlight streaming onto the edge of the bed. This was his whole world, perfectly captured in a single moment.

“Hi baby” his wife greeted him, her eyes never leaving their daughter. He placed the tray on her bedside table before he leaned over and kissed her head, pulling her from her daze.

“Coffee?” He asked as he held up her mug.

She looked up at him as if he hung the moon in the sky just for her. "Yes, please," she whispered, taking the mug. A borderline pornographic moan escaped her lips as she took the first sip. Eddie prided himself on making the perfect cup of coffee.

“Something to eat too” He added as he also handed her the bowl of fruit and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You’re too good to me” She spoke softly against his lips with a smile.

His eyes drifted from his wife to his daughter. "I don’t understand how she can be so perfect," he spoke softly, his wife smiling as she watched him. Her favorite thing since their daughter entered this world was watching Eddie watch her. His eyes would follow every tiny movement, his brain cataloging everything to memory. He didn’t want to miss a thing. She knew why. His fear of fatherhood had been so deeply rooted that it often pulled him from bed at night during the pregnancy. He would wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares where he walked out on his family just like his father had. In those dreams, he never had a choice. His body always moved on its own accord, the hateful words spilling out about how trapped he felt, drowning in a life he never asked for. He would try to fight his body as it moved to the front door, the cries of his child and the begging of his wife echoing in his ears, never quieting until he was panting upright in bed, grasping the sheets to pull himself back to reality.

"We need another," Eddie broke her from her thoughts, her focusing back on him.

"What?" she asked, even though she heard him clearly.

Eddie nodded “Yes” his eyes still on their daughter. "You make more. We must replicate."

“No babe”

“Yes babe”

“Eddie-”

“Yes yes, we must. It would be wrong to keep this to ourselves”

Her laugh pulled his attention, Eddie smiling and laughing with her.

"Babe, I’m not joking," he said, climbing onto the end of the bed and making himself comfortable just above the baby's head. He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. "I need an army. She will make the world a better place." His fingers lightly brushed through her hair, careful not to wake her but itching to hold and kiss her.

He could feel his wife’s gaze, a mixture of amusement and affection in her eyes. "An army, huh?"

"Yes," Eddie said, his tone serious but eyes twinkling. "An army of little perfections, just like her."

She reached out, placing her hand over his. "How about we cap it at just one little perfect for the time being and we’ll discuss an army later" she compromised.

Eddie nodded, his heart full. "Okay, deal," he said softly.

He settled more comfortably on the bed, gazing adoringly at their sleeping daughter. "You know," he said, his voice soft and playful, "I've been thinking of starting a club."

His wife raised an eyebrow, curious. "A ruler of an army and a club owner, that's ambitious baby?" she spoke with affectionate sarcasm.

"Oh no, I’m not the ruler, she will be" he stated matter-of-factly. "The club is The 'Perfect Daughter' club. Membership requirements include being completely smitten and willing to do ridiculous things to see her smile."

She laughed at his ridiculousness, a melodious sound that always made his heart skip a beat. "Well, I think you definitely met those criteria, Mr. President."

"Why, thank you, Madam Co-President," he replied with a mock-serious tone, taking her hand and kissing it with exaggerated gallantry.

Their daughter stirred slightly from their giggles but remained asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Eddie could feel his wife squeeze his hand. "Just look at her, Eddie. I mean, really look at her” He moved next to her on the bed, her head resting on his shoulder “She truly is perfect."

Eddie's eyes softened as he looked back at his wife for a moment before gazing back down at their baby girl. "She is, isn't she? Sometimes I wonder how we got so lucky."

"It's not luck," his wife said, her voice filled with conviction. "It's love And a little bit of magic." She whispered the last part.

Eddie chuckled. "Magic, huh? So, does that make you a sorceress?"

"How do you not already know" she pulled back to look at him, a twinkle in her eye. "How else do you explain all of this?" She gestured to the room, to their daughter, to the life they had built together.

“Love and magic” She smiled

"Well, if you're a sorceress, then I'm but your noble knight," Eddie said, leaning in to kiss her again.

"Noble knight, huh? Does that mean you slay dragons and rescue damsels in distress?"

"Only if the dragons are made of dirty diapers and the damsels are as beautiful as you," he teased.

That infectious laugh spilled out again, the sound filling the room with warmth. "I think you might be the most noble of knights a girl could ask for."

Eddie's eyes sparkled with affection. "And you, my love, are the most exquisite sorceress in all the land."

Their playful banter was interrupted by a soft coo from their daughter. His wife reached out to gently stroke their daughter’s cheek.

"She's going to grow up surrounded by so much love." Eddie promised, his voice filled with emotion. "She deserves the world, and we're going to give it to her."

“Absolutely” She didn’t question her husband one bit.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just watching their daughter sleep. The love between them was palpable, a living, breathing force that filled the room. It was in the way they looked at each other, the gentle touches, the shared smiles, and the dreams they wove together for their little family.

Eventually, their daughter began to stir, her tiny fists stretching above her head. She opened her hazel eyes and blinked sleepily up at her parents, a smile stretching across her tiny face as she saw them both. Eddie's heart melted at the sight.

"Good morning, my sunshine," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

She gave an excited shriek in response, a sound that never failed to bring a smile to Eddie's face. His wife reached for their daughter, lifting her gently into her arms. "Look who's awake," she cooed.

Eddie scooted closer, wrapping his arms around both his wife and daughter. "Morning snuggle time," he declared.

Their daughter squirmed happily between them, her small hands reaching out to thankfully grasp at Eddie's shirt and not the hair his daughter had started going fond of pulling. He looked at his wife, their faces just inches apart. "I love you," he said simply.

"I love you too," she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "More than words can say."

"And I love our little girl," Eddie added, pressing a kiss to his daughter's cheek.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in their own little bubble of love and happiness. Eddie felt like the luckiest man in the world, with his perfect daughter and his captivating wife by his side. Life was better than he could have ever imagined, and he knew that with them, it would only get better.

[musical-shit-show]

i want your midnights

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: sequel to waste my time, #17 (“you’re the only person i want to be with tonight”) and #39 (“don’t blame me. you know what you signed up for.”) from Prompt List #2

Warnings: cursing, angst, alcohol consumption, suggestive dialogue (?), anxiety, fluff at the end

Word Count: 3,229

Author’s Note: Last one shot of 2022! This is a sequel to waste my time, which I really enjoyed writing and thought it warranted a part 2. And, since it’s New Year’s Eve, I thought it’s only fitting to get this out tonight. Thanks to everyone who’s left such nice messages over the past year! I hope to continue to write more in 2023, and already have some things in the works. As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you want to submit a request! Everyone have a safe and Happy New Year!

Hooking up with Dewey Finn certainly had its perks. How could it not? You could hardly keep your hands off each other for weeks, and the secrecy only enhanced the experience. As promised, he had kept his mouth shut since that fateful Halloween party, and you two were able to convince your friends that you had simply called a truce on your years-long feud. Convince everyone but Patty, that was.

“No way,” she said, the day after the Halloween when you met her for a debriefing brunch, “What did he give you? Money? As if he had any…” She lifted her Irish coffee to her lips, smirking at her own snotty comment.

“No, no,” you said, feeling yourself get slightly annoyed at her dig, “We just…talked. He’s really not that bad, as it turns out. I know it’s different for you, but—”

Patty waved her hand, shooing your explanation away nonchalantly, “Don’t even worry about it. I had a feeling this would happen…” she mused, stirring her drink. Your heart skipped a beat, “Everyone loves Dewey anyways. Plus, Ned will be thrilled.”

You chuckled, breathing a small sigh of relief. As far as she knew, you and Dewey were nothing more than amicable. “Yeah well, he really did me a solid last night. Never imagined Dewey Finn would be good for helping with an anxiety attack, but I kinda owe him one.” Patty grabbed your hand lightly, comforting you.

“That is…actually really cool of him. And hey, maybe if you guys are friends, you’ll rub off on him. Maybe suggest he do some chores every once in a while?” She was teasing of course, but you could feel your pulse quickening again; the thought of actually hanging around Dewey made you nervous now.

You had no idea how you felt about him, and the most you two shared up to that point was a touchy makeout session on that damn fire escape the night before. All you knew was that it was in your best interest to stay away until you could figure out what was going on with your emotions.

That was almost two months ago.

And yet, you spent all your time with Dewey and no time at all figuring out your godforsaken feelings. You didn’t have much time to intellectualize your emotions with Dewey whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pinned you against your mattress. The very thought of him in your bed sent your brain into a tailspin, so you had elected to be completely avoidant.

As far as you were concerned, you enjoyed his company and he was a great lay.

That was it.

Or rather, that’s what you told yourself at least. Having your mind lie to you was easier than letting your heart tell you the truth.

Besides, you quite liked the idea of a friends with benefits setup. It took at least a little bit of the pressure off, though it didn’t stop you from taking the piss every once in a while.

“Really stretching that definition of ‘friends’ huh, Finn?” you remembered asking him. The two of you were lying in bed one night, the streetlight outside your bedroom window shooting streaks of light across your entangled bodies. He smiled and shook his head, his shaggy mop of hair bouncing at the slightest movement.

“Well, what else would you call it?” he traced his fingers along your collarbone, where he had left a conspicuous trail of love bites that you would almost certainly have to cover up the next day. You didn’t have an answer in the moment, or as time passed. Despite loving the initial thrill of sneaking around with Dewey of all people, your situation grew more precarious with each passing day, and it was eating away at you.

Yes, Dewey was your friend now, but what if you told him how you felt and he didn’t feel the same way? What if he didn’t want to be friends anymore? And how would that affect your relationship with Ned and Patty?

And oh god, Patty. How would she feel if she found out you’ve been sleeping with her freeloader roommate with a hidden heart of gold? You were practically hanging by a thread.

Suddenly, you found yourself at the end of the calendar year, with Dewey on your couch stroking your hair absentmindedly as your head rested in his lap, a forgettable movie playing in the background. It was so domestic it almost made you sick.

“You coming to this New Year’s thing tomorrow night?” Dewey asked sleepily, the light from the TV reflecting off his face. He was drawing circles and swirls on your scalp, the sensation both tingling and relaxing you all at once.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, stretching your arms above your head and pinching his nose playfully, “I think Patty would kill me if I didn’t bring my famous champagne Jell-O shots.” Dewey let out an involuntary shudder.

“Oh, be sure to keep those away from me. I can’t have a repeat of last year.”

You smiled softly, remembering how different your relationship was only a year prior. You wondered if your past self would even believe the position you found yourself in now before finally muttering, “Duly noted.”

You and Dewey had both learned quickly to sit in silence comfortably with one another, but this one was different. You could feel a sort of tension that was new, unfamiliar.

“Maybe…” he said, now tracing swirls on your temple, “Maybe we could go together? If you want?”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat.

“I don’t know, Dew…” you trailed off, sitting up and pulling yourself away from his embrace, “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Not in the slightest,” he joked, sitting up to meet your gaze, “But I don’t care anymore.” He tried to scoot closer to you, but you felt yourself retract from his touch.

“Well, I do,” you heard your voice harden, “Look, this thing we have going, it’s good. I don’t want to mess it up by—”

“What? Telling the truth? Come on, we don’t have to pretend anymore. I like you. A lot. And I thought you liked me.”

For a moment, you were stunned into silence. Dewey was usually pretty easygoing, especially when it came to your arrangement. Which turned his confession into even more of a gut-punch.

Your eyes met his again, which sported a pained expression, “It wouldn’t work between us. I thought we both understood that.”

“Oh, come on, screw that!” he replied, standing up, “I know we didn’t get along before but…things are different now. At least I thought they were.”

Your heart was screaming at you to stop, to tell Dewey how you really felt, to go to this stupid party together and not worry about what other people thought. But you couldn’t do it. You were too scared of what would happen if you two were together for real.

Sure, superficially you worried about Ned and Patty; You knew deep down that they’d get over it pretty quickly. No, you were worried about falling even harder Dewey than you already had, only to eventually screw it up for yourself.

Better to end it before it starts.

You clenched your jaw, a mixture of sadness and anger overtaking your face, “Don’t blame me. You know what you signed up for.” You half expected him to argue with you, but he didn’t look angry at all; his chestnut eyes were glazed over with hurt. “Dew, I—”

You wanted to say you were sorry, that you didn’t mean it, that you could go to this stupid party together. But nothing came out. And before you could let it, Dewey had already started gathering his things to leave.

All you could do was sit in awkward silence before he spoke, his voice tremoring, “Just for the record, I think it would’ve worked between us. Really sucks that you don’t see that, I guess.”

“Dewey—” you felt yourself standing up, tears in your eyes.

“No, I,” he sighed, running his fingers through his unruly hair, “I should go. I’ll…see you around.” He opened and shut the door with finality, the sound of his footsteps reverberating down the hall, the echo deafening.

***

“Well hello, hot stuff!” Patti greeted you at her door as pop music blared behind her. You plastered on the widest smile you could muster, a tray of Jell-O shots balancing on your hand. The party was in full swing, and you could already feel your heart pounding in your chest.

You hadn’t the faintest idea if Dewey would be there. You tried to call him and explain, but it went straight to voicemail; you tried texting him, but he left you on read. You were surprised you didn’t get frostbite from the cold shoulder he was giving you.

After setting the shots down on the kitchen counter, you scanned the room intently, hoping to see a familiar mess of brown hair somewhere in the crowd. You deflated when you didn’t see him, and Patty noticed immediately as she handed you a sparkly plastic cup. You felt gold glitter stick to your fingers immediately.

“Festive,” you commented, swirling the champagne cocktail until a tiny vortex of liquid formed. You took a swig, the sweetness making your throat burn on the way down. ‘Please, God, let me get drunk tonight’ you thought, your eyes darting towards the front door each time it opened.

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” Patty inquired, her tone only slightly annoyed, “I thought we were gonna have fun at this party.”

You sighed, setting the drink on the countertop, “I know, I’m sorry. I just…I want to. I have a lot on my mind and—”

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” she persisted, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been acting weird.” Damn her and her perceptiveness. Before you could get a word out, you felt hot tears welling in your eyes.

“It’s Dewey.”

Patty blinked stupidly. You cursed yourself for blurting out his name, and you were even more ashamed that you had been lying to your best friend for months.

“Dewey?” she repeated, letting out an incredulous laugh, “Why do you even care if he shows up, I mean I know you guys called a ceasefire, but—”

“Can we just go to your room and talk?” you choked out, feeling more claustrophobic by the second, “Please?”

In that moment, Patty’s eyes widened in realization. Your crying, eyeing the doorway, mentioning Dewey Finn of all people as the source of your turmoil. It finally clicked.

“Oh…my god.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you—”

“Oh my god.”

Patty practically dragged you to her and Ned’s room, slamming the door behind her. You could feel your hands getting clammy, the thought of a fight ensuing making you break out into a cold sweat. You envisioned shouting, tears of betrayal, a final angry goodbye…it was too much for your hummingbird heart to take.

“You’re in love with him.”

Now it was time for you to be taken aback. You furrowed your brow at her, trying to make sense of your best friend’s words.

“What?”

“You’re in love with Dewey,” she repeated, smiling. Never in your life had you seen Patty talk about Dewey while smiling. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming…”

“Wait, wait,” you sat on her bed, feeling your heart rate slow only slightly, “You’re not mad?”

Patty sat down next to you, throwing her arm over your shoulder, “Oh honey,” she said in a tone that was far too sweet for your liking, “I’m not mad. I’m furious. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

You let out a dry laugh, “No, I mean, you’re not mad that it’s…Dewey?”

She shook her head, and your eyes widened in disbelief, “As much as he is a pain in the ass, I kinda saw this coming. Ever since after Halloween, really. I just didn’t think you’d be this head over heels for him.”

Feeling your entire body get hot with chagrin, you gave her a playful push away from you, “I’m not head over heels for him.”

“Oh, you so are.”

And then the realization dawned on you, hitting like a ton of bricks. You had been in denial for weeks, really ever since that first night on the fire escape.

You were in love with Dewey Finn.

And you were certain he never wanted to speak to you again.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, tears starting to well in your eyes, “I fucked it up, P. I got scared and I pushed him away.”

You shoved your head into your hands, feeling utterly defeated. How could you have possibly been so stupid? You had the chance to be together, really together, but once again the cold grip of your anxiety overtook you the moment you felt yourself getting too close.

Pulling yourself out of your shame spiral, you noticed a devilish glint in Patty’s eye. “What?” you asked, a little scared of what she’d say next. She was usually the practical one; seeing her scheme was a bit unnerving.

 “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

***

“Hey bud, where you at? This party could really use a case or two more of beer.” Dewey heard his best friend say over the phone, his voice fighting against the rowdy party that was happening in their apartment.

Dewey took another swig of his beer before responding, “Oh, hey man, yeah…I’m out.” The dive bar he had chosen for the evening was surprisingly empty, with only a few other lonely souls, “And I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come back right now. I’m sorry.”

“Why not? Everyone is here—”

“I know. They aren’t the problem, I just…I have to tell you something.”

He then proceeded to tell Ned about everything – Halloween, the weeks since, your fight – practically all in one breath. It was killing him that he hadn’t told his best friend about the two of you, so it wasn’t difficult for him to start spilling his guts.

“I’m so sorry, dude,” he said, stepping out of the bar to catch his breath and get some fresh air, “I know I should’ve told you I just, I didn’t want to screw it up. But clearly she doesn’t feel the same way about me, so—”

“Dewey, I love you,” Ned said as he looked over at Patty, who had already relayed everything you had told her, “But you are the world’s biggest idiot.” Dewey blinked on the other side of the phone, taken aback by Ned’s uncharacteristic bluntness. “Just, get over here.”

Dewey shook his head, confused, “Wait, what’s going on—?” but before he could finish his sentence, the line went dead. He huffed, his breath appearing in the cold December night.

There was a part of him that told him to stay at the bar, sit in a booth by himself, and wait for the year to be over alone. But something else in him, something stronger, was telling him to listen to Ned and get back to the apartment. Because he knew you’d be there, and this might’ve been his last chance to make things right.

Before he realized it, he was walking home, his pace quickening as the wind stung his face. He dodged hordes of people crowd the city streets who were all ringing in the new year. His mind flashed to Ned’s request for more provisions; he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.

As he climbed the stairs, he could hear the excited voices wafting from underneath the doorframe. Luckily, he was able to slip in relatively unnoticed since he had no alcohol to provide. He scanned the room for you, and spotted you the couch, nervously picking at your nails.

“Uh, hi.”

Looking up, your heart dropped when you saw Dewey, who gave you a small, awkward wave. “Oh my fucking god…I’m gonna kill Patty.” He chuckled lightly, and you stood up, wiping your hands on your skirt.

“You look…nice.” He choked out, the tension of your fight still hanging heavily between you. “Thank you,” you replied, your eyes darting to the floor. You were desperate for an escape plan. “I, uh, should probably get going though.”

You brushed past him to grab your coat, which Ned had haphazardly thrown into Dewey’s room. Perfect.

Dewey leaned against the doorframe, watching you tear through the pile of parkas. “Before midnight?” he said while following you in, “Come on, I knew you were a wet blanket but—”

“Please, just…just don’t.” you cut him off, your voice faltering. Dewey always tried to make light of a situation, but right now, he was only making you feel worse about blowing him off.

Before you could stop yourself, you heard your voice ringing in your head, “I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just, I’m scared, okay? And I fucked it royally, so, seeing you here when I know that I can’t fix things, it’s just, it’s too much for me.”

“Hang on,” Dewey crossed his arms over his chest, a sad smile on his face, “who said we can’t fix things?”

“What?” you felt tears welling in your eyes, “I thought you didn’t want to see me again?” Without thinking, Dewey stepped closer to you, wiping a stray tear from your face. The small, intimate act made your pulse quicken.

“I didn’t, at first,” he said, his gaze soft, “But then I remembered your smile, and your laugh, and the way that you can argue with me about anything under the sun and I still find myself wanting to spend the whole day with you. You drive me insane, babe, but I couldn’t care less. I thought by storming out like a complete moron, I’d ruined any chance I had with you.”

In an act of impulsiveness, you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his. Never in a million years did you think you’d be in this position, but Dewey’s words were enough to make you bolder than you ever imagined.

“I…don’t know what to say,” you said quietly, “Other than that…well, the last couple months have been some of the best I’ve had in years. And, you’re the reason why, Dew. You’re the only person I want to be with tonight and, well, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Before you knew it, Dewey had picked you up, spinning you around as his laugh filled your ear. You instantly got butterflies, and when he set you down, his smile could’ve lit up the entire city.

“You won’t,” he said, “It looks like we don’t have anything to hide anymore.” You grinned back at him, a small giggle escaping from your throat. “So,” he continued, “I take it Patty knows?”

You nodded, “Yep,” you slipped your hand into his again, his grip comforting, “I don’t know what happened, but she’s…cool with it.”

“Well good,” he said, “Because I’m not letting you get away this time. I’m gonna annoy you as long as you’ll let me.” You kissed him softly, finally feeling lighter than air. The two of you stepped back into the party, finally excited for what the new year might bring.

***

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

[riley-travels]

July 23- Half day, Clog DIY, Boba DIY, and Yilan

Today I woke up surprisingly early, I think around 2:00 before taking a while to fall back asleep and waking for the final time around 6:30. I went for coffee around 7:00 and ran into Chief and Yeh Laoshi. The coffee I had was much better than yesterday. With the caffeine, I was able to start the writing on my Independent Excursion 1. I had already found an amazing article that I really enjoyed, so I reread that and began my work. I ended up hitting somewhere around the 800 word minimum in the academic section and was able to hit an exact 1010 with the title and my free writing section. After me and Sabrina were both done with our posts and had submitted them we decided to “reward” ourselves by trying out La Maison du Danemark, a bakery by our hotel that we had not tried yet. It was amazing as always, then we just waited for the bus. The ride to Yilan was pretty easy but very rainy. After we got there, we learned about clogs and even got to design our own leather strap to go on little key chain clogs. Before going back to our hotel we had the chance to make our own boba milk tea. We got to brew the tea in a shaker, add milk powder, add our desired level of brown sugar syrup, and then shake with ice. Then we poured it over the tapioca pearls and got to drink it, I thought it was good but the tea was kind of weak but the pearls were some of the best I have ever had. When we were in the gift shop I also saw one of my favorite desserts that I buy at home, which I had no idea was made in Taiwan.

Academic:

The globalization of boba tea, originating from Taiwan, has had profound effects on the island's cultural and economic landscape. As boba tea gained international popularity, it brought global attention to Taiwanese culinary culture, absolutely building a sense of national pride among Taiwanese people. Economically, the global demand for boba tea has boosted Taiwan's tea industry, leading to increased exports and the growth of local businesses. This cultural export has also contributed to Taiwan's soft power, enhancing its cultural presence on the global stage. However, globalization has also led to the commercialization and commodification of boba tea, sometimes resulting in the dilution of its traditional recipes and methods to cater to international tastes. Despite these challenges, the worldwide success of boba tea underscores Taiwan's influential role in global food culture. Walking around in the touristy areas of Taipei many local sellers of different souvenirs also utilize the image of boba, further stimulating the economy at home.

[captainkranos]

Dreaming of Metal- Part One A story for those wishing they were robots

This is my first major foray into writing, so id love constructive criticism! This is part one, and it doesn't contain any smut, but I am planning for future parts to have it. Hope you enjoy!!!

It was a cold evening. February was always cold. The local coffee shop was closed, so you had to go a lot further than usual. It was the nearest one that wasn't a chain. Starbucks was definitely worse now after the Apple buyout, and you're gonna need quite a bit of coffee if you plan to finish the coding project tonight. "602nd and 28th..." You mutter under your breath. Just a few more freezing blocks. Neo York City was big. After the Monopolization of 2350, corporations started buying out whole cities. The extra 300 streets added seemed like a good idea to most, but it really just makes the good parts of the city further away from each other.

Power walking down the sidewalk in an attempt to stay warm, a pink, blinking, neon sign catches your eyes. "Order a Robotic Companion Today! Keep you company! Great at coding!" That last tagline stuck in your mind as you remember the 457 bugs last time you tried to compile the latest project. And your last romantic partner walked out on you last week after suggesting those cybernetic enhancements... How were you supposed to know a cyborg killed their grandma? You only suggested them because you weren’t brave enough to get them installed in yourself anyways. "Dial 1-800-ROBOT today!" The number was easy to remember at least. You look down the street again, and spot the coffee shop your personal navigator directed you to. You make a mental note of the phone number, and head off to get fuel for the long night ahead of you…

“ITS DONE!” You exclaim as the compiler notes zero bugs found. It's a tool to help organize blog posts for your favorite website. The site creators should have added this years ago, but you're glad to have it done now at least. You sit in silence, appreciating your handiwork… but it's a sad silence. Your old partner helped write the start of this, and now they'll never see it completed. Your thoughts flashback to that sign you saw today. A robotic companion sounds so nice. Someone to confide in, to understand you, who would understand how you feel about robots. In a bout of weakness, you pick up your holophone, and mash in the phone number that's been spinning in your head all day. 

“Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics! Where we match you with the moving metal of your dreams! How can we meet your emotional needs today?” The voice on the other end sounds synthesized, but not automated. “Uhhh Hi? I think I'm looking for a companion bot?” “Sure! How would you rate your emotional starvation from one to ten?” Even though it's only been a week, the rate at which your apartment deteriorated into disrepair would put a bull in a china shop to shame. “...Ten” “And would you like to sign up for our alternate payment services?” Oh thank goodness. You really didn’t want to shell out too much for this. Most companies use these alternate options as a way to obtain and sell your data. A body scan or a blood donation will usually make rent much easier to pay each month if you want to buy something nice. “Yes I would.” “Great! We will have your order shipped out to you within 3-6 weeks! Have a great day!” The call ends. You never gave them a name or a shipping address? Maybe they scraped it from your IP address? You really didn't care. As long as a friend gets shipped in the mail, you would put up with anything.

March. It's been a tough few weeks. The coding commissions have been few and far between. At least the apartment complex therapist is back on call. He has really been helping you get through the emotional weeds of life. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK You peel yourself up from the chair in your office and over to the door. It's probably the neighbors again, their cat is quite the escape artist. Opening the door, standing in the hallway is a synth, with a metal box the size of a large person. If they were not a robot, you would ask to help with it, but you know that their electronic muscles are at least 100 times stronger than yours. You wish you could lift that much… “Is this the residency of anon?” “Yeah… what's this?” “Your package! Courtesy of Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics!” You had forgotten everything about that night. Getting hammered off of French nano-wine tends to do that to you. “Do I need to sign anything?” “Nope! Heres your package!” The synth walked into your apartment and placed the box right in the center of the entryway. It came down with a rather hefty thud. You already knew the downstairs neighbors would be filing a complaint. “Have a nice day! And good luck with the alternative payment services!” The synth walks out with a jolly expression. They always seem happy, probably because they are made of metal… Glancing back at the metal box in your entryway snaps your thoughts back to reality. How the hell are you going to move this anywhere? Your eyes are drawn to a blinking red button on the side you hadn't noticed before. Hopefully it’s the “Open” button and not “Self-Destruct”. With all the confidence you can muster, you press the button and wait for something to happen. An agonizing silence follows, until distinct gear turning and motor wrrring noises begin to emanate from the box. Like a birthday present made of tinfoil, the metal begins to unwrap itself and pour an unknown smoke out into your apartment. Your first thoughts are of the fire dampening systems firing off, but knowing your landlord, they probably haven't worked for years.

The smoke clears, the metal lies in a pile at your feet, and a shiny silver figure stands before you. Its form is definitely feminine in origin, but the steel plates that make up the body are all that fill your mind. They have to be at least a foot taller than you, as you stare up into its blank but imposing expression. “Uhh… Hello?” A rather cute set of chimes ring out from a circular design in the machine’s chest as pink lights spread outward from the center out to the limbs. The last line of lights to reach its goal is the one moving towards the head, as the eyes fill with light and the body hums with the moving of cogs and belts It’s head slowly turns towards you and a smile creeps up its face as a mixture of fear and excitement fills your heart.

“Hello! I'm Daniella and I'll be your new mistress!”

[charlieslowartsies]

i know you like both fnaf and batim, im curious if youve every thought about what would happen in a protagonist swap. ik aus and hypotheticals arent for everything, but i personally think it would be funny to drop mike and henry in eachothers universes. i think theyre both do well tbh, but regardless its a little funny to think about

I've tried answering this 2x and tumblr kept punting it into orbit but akjasjkasj here we go.

The Short answer: This is a cute idea! I did play with an Xover concept where Mike Schmidt from the KGA wandered into the old Studio he found back in the woods, and he eventually met Make Believe's Henry Stein post the first fic. Mike--being himself, ofc--decided to stick around and help in any way he could. He also got laid. That's a different concept than a good old switcheroo ofc.

There's more on that here, but not a big discussion on stuff, just what if arts from years ago.

The Long Answer:

At the end of the day, I know I kinda write Mike Schmidt and Henry Stein as different flavors of the same drink. Or even just, Mike is cherry cola and Henry Stein is a warm cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

They both have a found family thing going on in their central story arcs. Can you tell I like that theme? (With the major difference being Mike more or less consented to being dragged into the Pizzeria's past, and Henry stays in his situation out of deep seated guilt at his coworkers, a sense of obligation toward Bendy, and perhaps some honest fear of returning to the outside world as well after his time in the War.) Obviously Mike wasn't super cool with giving up his life, sure--but what he gained in return, (His health restored, ghostly superpowers, enhanced senses, a family that loves and accepts him as much as he admires them in turn, and a sense of purpose that makes him feel like he's living a life that makes a difference) made his choice the easier of the two I think.

In the KGA, Mike is top dog because he's the Suit of Fredbear, and then ofc he bonds with the gang from there. In MB, Henry is the true reluctant leader, and any say he has is earned when and because Norman and the others choose to give it. Sammy proves that for sure. Yes, there's a lot of fear of Bendy from Allison, Tom and Sammy, but they don't fear Henry. Henry also doesn't use Bendy's wrath and power to get his way--not that Mike is a bully either, but he's more confident than Henry and more adept at using Fredbear's powers to help him out, even just day to day mundane tasks.

Mike is the brainier of the two, but he's also the stupider when it comes to protecting those he loves. Henry is the draftsman, the studier, the thinker. He makes far more calculated moves and relies instinctively on Norm and the others to be there, or straight up defers to their judgement more than he dishes out orders. I headcanon he was a medic in the army, and if Freddy Fazbear is based off my Grandpa, then Henry Stein is based off my Poppy, who served World War II, and told stories to my dad of cleaning out tanks that...came back with bodies in them. Henry's time in the war changed him, and when he returned and entered the studio to see what his old pal wanted, his life was flung right back into what is, to him, another war zone. That's got to mess a person up, yanno?

What I like about your concept is that the first time I read it, I went "gee, there wouldn't be any difference. I'm just writing the same story with same characters, that sucks. ...how do I admit that in this ask that?"

And then later that night I paused and thought better of my initial assumptions. 'Wait a second...Mike and Henry aren't carbon copies. They don't even have the same humor.'

Henry and Mike are so much alike for sure, and so very different. Even just the obvious aside--Mike's world is full of the supernatural! ...but it's also got one foot firmly planted in reality. Fredbear is not flaunted. Mike can come and go as he pleases. He tries to be normal, he and the gang hide their true natures and pretend well for kids and adults alike. The world goes on around them, but they do go with it. The Gang ages. They had their restaurant, and then they do traveling parties when it becomes only a home base. His Animatronics are 'real' and 'functional' and their history--horrible as it was--was also one with kids and laughter and fun. Henry didn't get any of that. He never saw BendyLand, he didn't encourage Joey's actions.

Henry's world is Nothing but Supernatural, and he's still just as trapped in it as Bendy is bound to the End Reel. He can't go the store, grab some eggs and milk. If thunder rumbles overhead, Mike groans, looks for something to ground himself on. Henry might jerk back to war time, or the Studio, and be scrambled by the appearance of weather, which was not in the Loop. No sun, no night sky. There's a lot of humanity in being around other people. Mike is such a people person, and he sees in the Fazes what is only there because they were haunted. (Otherwise, yeah, they're kinda just...mechanical AIs.) Henry knows these people he lives with on the first floor were human once, he's relieved to have their company and also feels terrible about. He's afraid to let them get close, (the Projectionist being the one to ignore this lmao.)

It's two types of tragedies, and in both lives were cut short in different ways. Mike and Henry feel responsible for both sides, but they don't respond the same.

It's a lot of weight to carry on one's shoulders, and I sort of think Mike carries it better, or a little healthier, at least. He isn't shy or hesitant, Freddy pushed him away the most and Mike pushed right back. He didn't take any abuse, but he got past those walls and taught Fredbear it was okay to trust and to talk about problems.

Dropping Mike into MB's world would, naturally, be chaos. Mike is kind of walking chaos. Marion would prolly follow him--Mari follows the night guard everywhere, because as much as he brags about how good Mike is at his role, he worries so hard over Mike because Mike is always getting into trouble. (Which, fair.) Mari also doesn't like following rules, unless they're rules he set. He doesn't play nicely with others and he would quickly try to work his tendrils into the Studio, try to gain some upperhand, some semblance of control or even just find Answers to the puzzles around them. Mike would be utterly fascinated with the Ink Machine, wanting to see how it worked, and why, and if it needed repairs, and be interested in taking it apart to figure it out. Goldy's status would be useless here, so even tho Mike has his wits and strength, he wouldn't have the same level of respect he is used to in the restaurant or warehouse, or even Pizza World and not the Pizza plex.

Mike's also magnetic as hell. He'd take one look at Norm and be up in his grill too, delighted and friendly and finding the terror cool. He'd fix anything he thought needed it, that includes busted light bulbs or unhappy, self conscious little ink blots that need their ego's stroked and to be assured no, they're not Abominations. Mike isn't afraid of Nightmaronnie, and once he realizes the Ink Demon is Bendy, (if he was split from Henry which would be it's own issues.) he'd eventually apply the same logic as he did to the Puppet all those years ago, and see a scared little kid who needs some comfort and to know he has support.

Henry...would fit in less well in the KGA. He wouldn't be in danger from the Fazes of course, but he's an Adult, and he's a Male, and he's a STRANGER. And that sets off all sorts of warnings in the back of their minds. Makes them unsure and wary to the point of being unkind, cold. Unlike Mike, whose curiosity gets him in trouble, Henry would recognize to back off and tread lightly. Their children that haunted them accidentally passed on a deep seated fear of older, male authority figures, and not even Mike blames them for that. Max carries it too, and Gregory is about the only one who would be the most approachable...or the more willing TO approach Henry. He's young, but his situation is different and kids are rubber bands. By now, the best, most important thing in his world--tall, deep voiced, and strong Glamrock Freddy--keeps his opinion in Henry's favor, because they're both calm and careful in the similar ways. If Bendy is with Henry, that's another winner. Bendy loves kids, he loves kids desperately, enthusiastically, obsessively. He WANTS to prove he's worthy of what Joey Drew put on him when he was Created, that he's the most darling dancing devil there ever was. If Cartoon him can make Gregory smile/laugh, Bendy will be over the moon, and Glamrock Freddy will have to learn to share quickly, because like Mari, Bendy is a possessive little devil.

Even if Max, Ness, and Freddy are keeping Henry on a tight, wary leash, I can see Henry giving in to them easily. He's not out to make waves, or step on anyone's toes. Being docile like that will help him out big time with them. Mike might cause trouble on accident lmao. Henry would also be kind of panicky, kind of freaked out. Worrying about the Studio, his friends, Bendy being loose, what Joey's up to on the lower levels. Mike would honestly be more worried about his next meal being just bacon soup and realizing he can't be a bottomless pit because he won't take food from these...ink...monsters? ...ink people? (If Chica offered Henry an olive branch in the form of a meal, Henry might break down and Ghibli cry at the taste of real, inkless, clean food. That earns him points with her at least. Double if he tries cleaning up because he never let Linda do the dishes.)

I wrote so much I'm so sorry lmao. Thank you for this ask anon!! It's a fun concept to explore! I wish I had more energy to do so, but I just got a new tattoo last night and my brain is french fried xD

[fahadblog]

My Honest Review of Java Burn Coffee:

Is It Worth the Hype?

As someone who loves coffee and is always on the lookout for ways to maintain a healthy weight, I was intrigued by Java Burn Coffee. The promise of boosting my metabolism and supporting weight loss just by adding a powder to my coffee sounded almost too good to be true. I decided to give it a try for a month and share my experience to help others who might be curious about this product.

What Is Java Burn Coffee?

Java Burn is a flavorless, powdered supplement that you can easily mix into your daily cup of coffee. The powder contains natural ingredients like green tea extract, L-theanine, and chromium, all known for their ability to boost metabolism, reduce cravings, and increase energy levels. Java Burn claims to help the body burn fat more efficiently without requiring drastic lifestyle changes.

How Does Java Burn Work?

The idea behind Java Burn is that it enhances the process of thermogenesis, or calorie-burning, in the body. When combined with the caffeine from coffee, its ingredients are meant to speed up your metabolism and help burn fat throughout the day, even when you’re not actively exercising. Essentially, it turns your regular coffee into a fat-burning tool.

My Experience: First Week on Java Burn

During the first week of using Java Burn, I didn’t see immediate changes in my weight, but I did notice a boost in my overall energy. Normally, I feel sluggish by the afternoon, but with Java Burn in my coffee, I felt more focused and energized throughout the day. I also appreciated that I didn’t experience the usual caffeine crash.

Does Java Burn Change the Taste of Coffee?

One thing I was worried about was whether Java Burn would mess with the taste of my coffee, but it didn’t at all. The powder is completely tasteless, so I couldn’t even tell I had added it. It dissolved quickly without any residue, making it a convenient addition to my daily routine.

Results After a Month of Java Burn

After one month of using Java Burn consistently, I lost around 5 pounds. The weight loss wasn’t dramatic, but it was steady and noticeable, especially around my stomach area, which has always been a challenge for me. I didn’t make any major changes to my diet or workout routine, so I credit the results to Java Burn. The progress felt sustainable, which is important for long-term success.

Other Benefits I Noticed

In addition to weight loss, I noticed that my digestion improved. I felt less bloated after meals and experienced fewer cravings throughout the day. This made it easier to avoid unhealthy snacking, which I tend to struggle with, especially in the evenings.

Any Side Effects?

For me, the side effects were minimal. There were a couple of days when I felt a bit jittery, likely due to the extra caffeine boost. If you’re sensitive to caffeine, it’s worth monitoring your intake while using Java Burn to avoid overdoing it.

Final Thoughts: Is Java Burn Worth Trying?

In my experience, Java Burn was a simple yet effective addition to my daily coffee routine. While it’s not a quick fix or magic solution for weight loss, it definitely helped boost my metabolism and gave me more energy throughout the day. If you’re a regular coffee drinker and want a little extra help in your weight loss journey, I think Java Burn is worth giving a shot. Just remember, it works best alongside a balanced diet and regular exercise.

[scarletinkthelibrarian]

TMNTVDAY (Week 1) - Donnie and Harper

(Thanks again to @tmnt-tychou and here we are with the second round!)

1. In which TMNT universe does your pairing exist?

As said before with Leonardo and Ginny, these two exist in a mixture of the 2003 series and 2007 movie's universes.

2. Introduce us to your OTP.

On the right corner we have Donatello, the genius turtle with the sass and an addiction to coffee that should be checked up on! And on the left corner we have Harper Rhodes, cybernetic engineer with the enthusiasm of a sugar rush and the clinginess of a koala!

3. How did they meet?

Technically, Harper met Leonardo first: she had set up a hidden camera - that she removed later! - outside of Ginny's window and caught him that way. Later on, she and Donnie met through the older turtles finally introducing his two new friends to the rest of the family. They clicked on pretty fast after that.

4. How is the relationship now?

Harper is naturally flirty but not really good at speaking her feelings out, so it took a while for Donnie to understand that she was actually serious about him. After Harper's big breakdown about her father, though, they finally talked out about how they felt for each other and decided to give their relationship a chance. Nowadays they basically live together, considering how often they end up spending days working together - Donnie even has spare keys of Harper's lab and she has unlimited access to his own - and have the tendency to taking care of each other: Harper is careful to see that Donnie doesn't overwork himself and Donnie pushes Harper to be more open about her real thoughts and feelings.

5. What is each other's love language?

Quality time mixed with physical affection: they work a lot together and Harper gradually got Donatello used to her basically always being in physical contact with him - sitting on his lap, leaning against his side or over his head, him resting his head on her lap… Also, Harper is Donnie's cheerleader and Donnie is Harper's Santa Claus, meaning she throws as many words of affirmation at him as possible and he likes to build up gadgets for her… and watch her take them apart to understand how they work. ^^

6. Do they get married or have any kids?

Due to her parents' messy divorce, Harper is pretty resistant against the idea of getting married, but years down the line, when interspecies marriages get legalized, she finally realizes that Donatello really isn't going anywhere and the two have their wedding not too long after Leonardo and Ginny's.

As for kids… I don't really see them having any? I see them becoming mentors, especially considering how they will create their own research team on engineering and cybernetic enhancement, but I can't actually imagine them as parents. Though they're surely going to be a very lovely uncle and aunt, as long as they leave any potentially dangerous experimental trinket home. XD

7. What is your favorite thing about this pairing? (Gush as much as you want!)

These two are just so unapologetically in love in my head! Harper may be the one who shouts it out more loudly, but Donatello adores her back just as much, they're like a human-and-mutant version of Gomez and Morticia Addams (to be clear, Donnie is Morticia and Harper is Gomez XD)!

[aesir-alchemist]

Blue Raspberry, or, Oh No! It's Jotunn Mating Season! (Loki x Reader)

Summary: A continuation of the series where I write my take on my favorite fanfic clichés.

It's a heat wave at Avengers campus in New York, and Reader is desperate for relief. When she suspects that one of her teammates has a way of beating the heat, she goes on a quest to find it that leads her to Loki. The only problem is that Loki's in a bit of a situation of his own, and it's not the heat that has him feeling a bit blue...

Author's notes: These one-shots are meant to celebrate frequently used story tropes. The intent is to add new stories bi-weekly unless life gets in the way. Please feel free to comment with your favorite fanfic clichés, and I'll add them to the list!

Pairing: Loki (Marvel) x Female Reader

Content Warning: 18+ smut ahead (Reader is of age) with the tiiiiiniest bit of 🍑 content

---------------------------------------

“It's Jotunn mating season. And I can’t fight it. Not any longer.”

You first knew something was wrong when you started seeing frosty patches all around the Avengers compound. Just one, in the kitchen at first, explainable, somehow, you thought. After all, this building was full of miraculous oddities. But then you saw them in the gym, on the floor and on the rack that held the weights. Then you saw them in the upstairs common area - the television’s remote was frozen solid to the coffee table. Pretty soon you saw them almost everywhere - on door knobs, on chairs, and occasionally you even saw a window frosted over.

You might not have normally made much note of these occurrences, strangeness was your business as an Avenger after all, had it not been for two unique facts:

The first was that campus had been relatively empty those last few weeks, with many of the senior Avengers off-world with Nova Corps, and the rest touring the globe on a campaign of peace and safety. Other than normal non-enhanced staff, it was just you, and Banner, and Loki.

The second unique fact, and perhaps the most relevant one, was that it was the middle of summer. In upstate New York. It was sweltering. You were sweltering. The whole idea of frost seemed rather inconceivable.

As part of an energy reduction campaign, Tony and FRIDAY had set the campus’s thermostat to precisely 76 degrees Fahrenheit, and there was no changing it. You found it was an acceptable temperature for desk work and for lounging, but you were used to much milder climates than New York summers, and after only ten minutes outside, or ten minutes of exercise in the gym, or even ten minutes walking around the expanse of the campus, it was almost impossible to cool off. You found yourself taking cold showers to wash away the accumulated sweat, and standing in front of the open refrigerator door until the polite but firm voice of FRIDAY warned you of your energy consumption.

The mysterious icy patches proposed a tantalizing mystery. Perhaps someone had discovered a way to bring the chill inside - something that wouldn’t raise any of FRIDAY’s alarms. Maybe you could even get in on that action, you thought. And so you began your investigation.

Bruce seemed like the obvious choice to have some sort of personal cooling device. He had the skills to make something like that - pretty easy for him, you assumed - and the motive. After all, if you were hot, you couldn’t imagine how overheated the Hulk must be. Plus, he had the kind of rapport with Tony where you thought he could get away with just about anything. But you watched him, for many hours, almost the whole day, in the full heat of the sun beating on the campus’s enormous windows… and nothing. No sign of frost or cooling. In fact, the way that he unbuttoned his mauve shirt suggested that he was perhaps just as uncomfortable around the machinery and bunsen burners in his lab as you were after a run.

So that left Loki as the next logical candidate. He had been on a streak of good behavior those last couple years, but you didn’t put him beyond a contraband air conditioner, or even some sort of magical ice packs. He seemed somewhat more impervious to temperature fluctuations compared to the human Avengers, but even he was known to break a sweat after…

It was just then that it occurred to you that you hadn’t actually seen Loki in several days. It wasn’t uncommon for you and him to train together (his balletic ways of fighting challenged and elevated your scrappy self-taught form) or go for runs on one of the compounds tracks (his easy pace with those long lean legs was always a sight- you had to really push yourself to match him). You had also grown accustomed to his chiding, playful taunts haunting the halls and the dinner table. In your preoccupation with the heat, you hadn’t even noticed his absence.

And that’s when you began to worry. Thor was usually responsible for keeping an eye on his brother - for Loki’s sake and for everyone else’s. But Thor had gone off world, and perhaps you and Bruce had been negligent in making sure that Loki was relatively happy and well.

You tried to think back to the last time the you’d even seen him. It was two days prior, and you were standing in the kitchen having just shut the freezer door after FRIDAY’s chiding, robotic remarks. You’d retrieved a popsicle after your run, your favorite kind from childhood, high-fructose corn syrup be damned - Blue Raspberry. You remembered it distinctly - trying to beat the heat, wearing only a sports bra and your shortest running shorts, watching the surface of the lurid blue treat cover with frost before licking is slowly with long laps of your tongue. You did this over and over again, just waiting for your body to cool down, still glistening with a sheen of sweat.

It wasn’t until you’d slowly devoured over half of the thing that you noticed Loki standing in the entryway, watching, looking slightly uncomfortable. When you noticed him you caught his eye and held it, not sure what to do. Maybe he wanted a popsicle. Maybe he found your lack of dress indecent. Maybe he was just mad that you hadn’t asked him to go on your run. Whatever it was, your brain was too foggy with heat and exercise endorphins to ask, so you just stared at each other until you were snapped out of your revery by the sensation of the popsicle’s sticky liquid slowly dripping down your arm.

Startled, you lapped it up with more long licks of your tongue, and stuck the remainder of your treat into your mouth entirely, slurping and sucking on it hard to remove the accumulating juice on the treat’s surface lest it drip further. You heard Loki groan, sort of a deep whimper, before he ran off and left you to cool down in solitude. Those Space Boys are weird, you remembered thinking, but quickly forgot about it. After all, if you were to analyze every peculiar interaction you had with the collection of weirdos known as the Avengers, you’d simply never get anything done.

You decided you’d bring Loki a popsicle. A sign of good faith, and perhaps a bargaining tool. You’d give him one of your popsicles in exchange for a few minutes in front of whatever freezer situation he’d contrived. You knew processed sugar was relatively new to him, so it might actually work.

When you reached the door to his rooms you could see the distinctive fractal pattern of ice starting to grow around his doorframe. You knew you’d got your guy. You prepared for the sweet bliss of contraband AC and gave his door three swift taps with your knuckle before it slid open.

“Ha! Busted,” you said, used to trading quick quips and playful banter, ready to be vindicated for your suspicions.

But Loki’s arm grabbed you, and pulled you in his room before you could even think, much less protest. The door slammed behind as you struggled to comprehend what you were looking at. Every piece of furniture in Loki’s room was edged with the crystalline glimmer of frost, and on the floor was a path of tracks on an icy white ground, like footfall in the snow. And standing there, beside you, was Loki, shirtless and clammy, and rather blue in the gills. He looked wracked, and uncomfortable. His eyes were tinged red, like he hadn’t slept in days, and his usual pallor was even colder than normal.

“What do you want?” It was half growl, half choke and he glared at you with those bloodshot eyes of his.

“I came to bring you a treat, and check to see if you’re alright. Loki, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he reached out to grab the frozen snack from your hand, his chilled fingers brushing yours, “Thank you. Now you should leave.”

“Loki, you’re freezing! What’s going on?” You ignored his words, and instead reached up to touch his forehead, then his cheek with the back of your hand.

Loki let out another groan, not dissimilar to the one he’d released days before in the kitchen, “It… It’s embarrassing, now please go before I… Before I lose control,” and with those last two words something inside Loki released, like floodwaters cracking a dam. His eyes turned crimson, and his pale, sickly skin shifted to a robust blue - the color of a clear summer sky. Brilliant and gleaming. Marks trailed along his skin, adorning his chest and face and arms with intricate, curving patterns.

“What… what is this?” You stammered as he stalked even closer to you, backing you up against the chilled door.

“This…” his head hung low, brushing the cool tips of his fingers against your flush and nervous lips, “It's Jotunn mating season. And I can’t fight it. Not any longer.”

Loki’s thumb pressed on your mouth’s opening, and you let him slide inside, your lips now parted, partly from astonishment, partly from relenting to his thumb’s soft pressure. Your mind raced recalling the slurry of facts and fictions you’d been told about the demigod in front of you. It had been hard to parse the man from the myth, especially after a thousand years of stories making him larger than life. You’d heard he was adopted. You’d heard he wasn’t quite Asgardian. You’d heard he’d had a rocky falling out with his father. You knew the old stories of Odin’s battles against the Frost Giants. All of the pieces were coming together. The secret Loki must have been hiding for so long. It broke your heart a little, but also thrilled you. It was a rare occurrence in your line of work to be genuinely surprised by something.

You closed your mouth around his thumb, relishing in its chill against your tongue, and the icy tinge of his fingers along your jaw.

“When I was young, I was told brutal stories of Jotunn warriors whipped into a frenzy every fifteen hundred years, when the cosmos were aligned just-so, their appetites became insatiable, and they spread across the nine realms, taking whoever they pleased to satisfy their primal need to breed,” he tossed aside the snack you’d brought him, and placed his hand on the curve of your hip instead. He drank in the scent of you off your hair, moaning into a whimper once more, “I do not wish to take you, but these urges are becoming hard to quell on my own. My biology is taking over. Leave now or submit yourself to my whim,” his hand already tugging at the waistband of your pants.

Everywhere he touched you, you felt a sweet icy release from your blistering condition. Instead of pulling away, you leaned into him, acquiescing.

Loki pulled down your pants on one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down, As you stepped out of your shoes, he removed your top, exposing you to the decidedly cool air of his room, making your sensitive skin prickle with delight and arousal.

With a firm and steady pressure, Loki pressed on your shoulders, urging you to your knees to kneel in front of him, his lower half clad, for the moment only in grey, standard issue Avengers sweatpants. The bulge was pronounced, formidable in its cloth trappings. You pulled at the elastic hugging his sharp cerulean hips - partly from curiosity, partly from growing desire. It had been so long since you’d indulged with another, your duties making it difficult. And you had to admit that you’d spent more than one night alone in your room thinking about Loki’s broad shoulders, and thin hips and sharp jaw, and what he kept hidden underneath all of that black leather.

You were not disappointed.

Loki only left you a moment to admire his glorious erection before he was guiding it into your mouth and pressing it towards your throat. The chill filled your mouth with wanton arousal. It was so much more satisfying than Blue Raspberry. He ran his brisk fingers along your scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair. You braced yourself, hands on his hips and forearms flush against his thighs. The warmth growing between your legs contrasting deliciously with his wintry skin.

You relaxed into the rhythm of him pushing and pulling you from him, slower at first, then reaching a fervent pace - his animalistic groans reverberating in your core, making you slick with elation at the unexpected turn the afternoon had taken. Your eyes watered from his size, his speed, and his temperature. Your hot spit clung to him, condensing, not unlike your frozen treats. Before long, Loki’s grunts became deeper and more rapt, he pressed himself into you as far as he could go, nearly gagging you with his desire as he let loose, coming with great wails into your gaping mouth.

Almost before you could swallow or blink back your tears, Loki’s hands were on you again, grabbing your upper arm, leaving a chilled pink impression, pulling you upright, leading you, and throwing you against the bed.

You broke your fall onto his mattress with your hands and knees trembling with confused anticipation, hot slick between your groin. If you didn’t know better you thought your skin might be actually steaming from the flush of your body in Loki’s frigid presence. Your experience with other men would have you thinking that this was the point where your amorous interactions would be finished, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, but nothing about Loki’s actions left you feeling like he was done with you.

Loki’s chilled hand ran down your spine, and you could feel his still somehow still erect tip lightly kiss your eager entrance. He grabbed your hair at the same time he entered you with one deep, forceful thrust. You moaned in unison, deep and desperate. The velvety cool contrast of his penis sliding against your slick, sultry walls was as thrilling as it was luxuriant. As he pulled out and pushed in again, and again, and again your knees began to tremble - your pinned body’s only supports against Loki’s muscular weight were beginning to weaken from the full, chilled pressure he was pushing into you.

Loki relaxed his grip on your hair, dropping his forehead low, gently touching the nape of your neck. He puffed hot breaths on your spine in an increasing rhythm that opposed the frosty brushes of his cheek and forehead. Your fingers gripped at his snowy white sheets as you braced against your inevitable fall. Your moaning into the mattress became whinier and his grunts into your back became more insistent.

Loki leaned back, running a hand down your back, spreading an exquisite chill along with it. He stopped for a moment at the base of your spine, then added his thumb, drawing it down, slowly to your other entrance until there was a firm, bitingly cold pressure at your opening.

All he had to do was press gently to send you over the edge into euphoria.

The delightful contrast of temperatures playing across your body, and the weighty fullness of your cunt pushed you to elation. Your own glorious undoing in the hands of a Frost Giant. As you squeezed and clenched around his cock, Loki followed, letting your spasms pull him deeper as he let loose his second burden inside of you, filling you up once more.

When Loki pulled out you collapsed, still face down in his sheets as you slowly leaked and calmed your satisfied breath, cheeks flush, but the places where his skin had so recently met yours still remembering the refreshing, frigid chill. Loki sank into the bed beside you, catching his breath and placed one long, toned arm on your back, pinning you there, as if your legs could ever regain the strength to carry you anywhere ever again. But the brisk weight of him was as comforting as it was possessive. AC and the cold air of the freezer were distant and intangible delights, but Loki was real, and he was physical, and he was the most beautiful blue.

The reality of your act was settling on you then. His alienness was an abstract concept before, but there he was, in all his outer-world glory, big and beautiful and unique in this world. You stared at him through the blur of your afterglow, trying to memorize the lines on his skin through your haze.

“You’re staring,” he half-growled, eyes still closed. He dug his fingers onto the flesh of your rear, a little harder than was playful.

“You’re beautiful,” your words slightly muffled by ecstasy and his sheets.

Loki eased his grip and rolled his head towards you, opening his eyes so that his red gaze met yours, “You don’t fear me? Not even like this?”

“It’s a little late for that,” you smirked half into his sheets, “No. I think you’re exquisite.”

“I’ve often thought about you. Late at night. But I told myself you were off-limits,” his gaze was intense but sincere. You were so used to him hiding his feelings behind humor.

“How long is Joutunn mating season?”

“It lasts for one more week at least.”

You smiled slowly, lazily, “Just as long as this heatwave.”

“Well then, it seems we’ve found relief from both of our predicaments,” he rolled on top of you once again, hips low so you could feel him grow wanting once again against your leg. He kissed at the base of your neck then across your back, ticking you with the frosty tip of his nose.

“Loki!” You bubbled up a laugh, “Aren’t you satisfied?”

He shifted his weight, bringing his lips back to your ear.

“Oh darling, you should know by now that satisfaction is not in my nature.”

If you liked this, please comment and reblog!

You can find me on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesir_Alchemist/pseuds/Aesir_Alchemist

[spicler-man]

fluff or hurt/comfort fics

masterlist here

what do i look like to you, a clearance rack? by peterstank for ArdenSkyeHolmes221

It happens once and then it keeps happening. It starts with a hoodie, and then slowly Tony is sacrificing more and more items of clothing in the name of a clumsy, irresponsible Spider-Baby with no sense of self preservation.

But honestly, he can’t bring himself to mind.

or: 5 times Peter steals Tony’s clothes + the 1 time they share.

Long Term Borrowing by ironfamjam

Okay, so maybe Peter has a collection of Tony's shirts. And maybe he was probably supposed to return them at some point. But he'd get around to it. Eventually. He refuses to call it theft.

Except that it probably totally is.

Or, 5 times Peter wears Tony's shirt and the 1 time Tony wears his.

Irondad Bingo Prompt: Peter Wears Tony's Sweatshirt

Mission Accomplished by Chaeyoung26090

It's Tony Stark's birthday. Peter Parker is in dilemma. One conversation with FRIDAY and he gets the best birthday present idea ever. The only question is, will he be able to do it?

For Want of a Dad (in need of a son) by GhostInTheBAU

“So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?” Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject.

He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks.

The trip is during spring break—a four day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors.

But the real kicker?

It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be.

Not again.

—————

Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement.

Because of Spider-Man.

Special Express Delivery by endlessnepenthe

"Peter. Where is your assignment?"

“I…” Peter stares unblinkingly into the depths of his backpack. “I don’t have it,” he says, voice soft with bewildered disbelief.

Tony Stark, Chaperone Extraordinaire by CaptainStarSong

After Aunt May has to cancel last minute on being a chaperone for Peter's school trip to Liberty Science Center, Tony Stark (Good Dad™) steps in to save the day. (Featuring adorable Cotton Top Tamarins, Flash being put into his place, and slightly awkward but honestly trying Tony Stark.)

Safety Net by baloobird

Peter hates when Tony drags him to meetings, but he soon figures out the real reason why his mentor does so.

The Hoodie™ by coconutknightshade

The one in which Tony overhears Peter telling his roommate that the MIT hoodie he's wearing is his dads. The one in which Peter never plans to call Tony 'dad' to his face but the universe has other plans.

peter wearing tony's hoodie by killerqueenwrites

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Apartment 43B by ironfamjam

After Peter gets stabbed clean through, he knows he can't let May see. His genius plan? Sneak into his best friend's apartment and clean himself up.

The problem?

It's the wrong apartment.

Enter Tony Stark, the ex-CEO that disappeared off the face of the earth three years ago, armed with his handy little first aid kit, custom made coffee machine, and witty anecdotes.

Somehow, the breaking in becomes a habit.

Irondad Bingo Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

blackmail material (or, a picture for tony's office) by KiwisAndTea

May Parker (4:43): guess whos sporting a new iron man shirt

In which May is a tease and Tony just wants to see these mythical shirts, but he gets more than he bargained for.

if lost please return to iron man by KiwisAndTea

It happened like this:

Peter took one look at his shirt and laughed until there were tears spilling out of his eyes, and Tony was not about to let him get away with it.

-

Part 2 of the t-shirt series, but it is not necessary to read the other one first.

one of us is going to have to change by KiwisAndTea

Turns out, Peter and Pepper have the same shirt. (Tony is Conflicted™).

-

Part 3 of the t-shirt series, but it is not necessary to read the others first.

peter's favorite shirt (is also tony's favorite shirt) by KiwisAndTea

The billionaire gives him an easy smile, one that suggests he knows exactly what is going through the boy's head, before his gaze drifts down and his smile grows. A lot. And it's- it's weird. Not bad weird, but he's definitely never seen that one before, and Peter likes to think he's seen them all by now.

And shoot, he didn't drop something on his shirt, did he? That would be super embarrassing.

It's clean - thank god - but his heartrate spikes into Dangerous anyway because, oh yeah, he's wearing that shirt. The shirt Ned got him for Christmas. The shirt that's one of his new favorites. The shirt he won't wear if he knows May or Happy or Mr. Stark would see it.

-

Part 4 of the t-shirts series, but you do not need to read the others first.

welcome wagon by KiwisAndTea

It's been one month, twenty-nine days, and nine hours since anyone has heard from Tony Stark. or, Peter and Pepper worry. - Part 5 of the t-shirts series, but it is not necessary to read the others first.

Secret Sugarplum Spiderling by happyaspie

Peter has been taking ballet for nearly as long as he can remember and all of his hard work has finally paid off. He's been cast as the Cavelier to the Sugarplum Fairy in his Performing Arts School's production of The Nutcracker. It's a big deal and it's going to take up a good bit of time but... he's just not sure he's ready for his mentor to know about that particular hobby just yet.

🎄🩰❄️He's sure it'll be fine ... ❄️🩰🎄

All he has to do is show up at the studio on time, keep his grades up, make sure to see Tony on a regular enough basis that he doesn't worry and try to squeeze in some patrolling in between. It's that simple. Right?

gucci by babochu

So of course, three months later, after the initial ‘frenzie’- after Peter had bought him a Spider-Man shirt as a gag gift for his birthday, he hadn’t meant to push it any further.

But he did.

or

In which Tony wears a Spider-Man shirt to an event and chaos ensues.

I Will Soften Every Edge by losingmymindtonight for Bean_reads_fanfic

“You’re telling me,” he swallowed, “that my body thinks I’m Peter’s dad?” “And it has prepared itself for parenthood in response, yes.” -- After a simple brain scan, F.R.I.D.A.Y. reveals something that Tony already knew, but may not have been ready to accept. Luckily, Peter's always there to help him re-find his footing.

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight

Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester. He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

Happy Father's Day Mister Stark, Have a Hallmark Card! by AndromedianExistence

Peter buys Tony a Father's Day card and it goes downhill from there.

Rest Your Weary Head, Child (Forever On My Shoulder) by Buckets_Of_Stars

When Peter's study group ends up staying out later than expected, the result is as unsurprising and enduring as Tony could possibly imagine.

Or: Peter is tired and wants to cuddle his Dad.

Sweater Paws and Sweet Pancakes by Buckets_Of_Stars

When Tony woke up one early Saturday morning, he never expected to be bombarded by feelings while making his sleepy son pancakes.

But that’s exactly what happens.

Coincidental by spideywriting (catch_you_later)

The first time he walked into the cold spot, he thought it was a weird happenstance. A coincidence.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Strange, spooky things are happening in Tony's lab and he's woefully unprepared for what follows.

(Or, the fic where Peter haunts Tony's lab and Tony can't help but adopt the adorable ghost kid.)

You're The Best, Dad! by protectbucky

‘What do you mean what’s wrong? I called you ‘dad’ yesterday and Clint made a T-shirt about it, and you’re asking me what’s wrong?’

The billionaire’s face was so soft Peter felt like he could explode. He wanted to bang his head against the table again. He couldn’t comprehend that Mr. Stark was really not getting it.

‘So is it the ‘dad’ part or the T-shirt part?’

‘Mr. Stark, what the fuck?’

Get Out of Jail Free Card by Anarchyduck

Tony gets the warning that the kid is in a bad mood, but when Peter enters the lab, he seems fine?

He'll have to coax the answer out of the kid. Ugh.

shake and shiver by OnlyForward

tony has a panic attack in the middle of an avengers meeting after a fight where something triggering happens. no one notices...except peter.

whumptober prompt 7: the way you shake and shiver

Superhero Pajamas by the Spider-Man alt (counterclaw)

“There’s nothing to explain,” Tony grinned as he set his tablet down on the coffee table. “Oh, man. If Iron Man himself were here to see those…”

“That’s the worst part,” Peter grumbled, though there was no hard edge to his voice. “He is.”

I've Got A Feeling... by AimAim94

Peter flopped onto the couch in the penthouse, “Can you stay home tonight? I’ve got a weird feeling, Dad.”

Tony adjusted his tie while he waited for Pepper to leave for the gala they were throwing, “I really need to be there, Bub.”

Peter nodded, “But I think something is wrong.”

stolen stares by Brentinator

"Well, what about Lisa in accounting? She gives me candy bars."

"I'm not taking an accountant to a gala just because she fuels your candy addiction." Tony rolled his eyes as Peter tossed a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

My gift for @galaxychocolateisme on Tumblr

Turn My Day From Good To Great by SuperHeroTiger for Malya

When Tony invited Peter to the tower for 'official internship training' out of the blue one day, the teen had to admit he was a little suspicious. Tony was a strange person. A creature of habit and somehow unpredictable all at once, a paradox that would forever throw Peter for a loop, he was sure. Whatever Tony had planned for Thursday, Peter had the feeling he wasn’t getting out of it no matter how hard he fought it. And so, with a lazy shrug, he figured he might as well settle in for the ride.

But then why were there so many children running around Stark Industries? And why did everyone keep looking at him with these soft eyes whenever he stood beside Tony? What on earth did Tony plan to put him through today?

...

AKA Tony brings Peter to 'Take your kids to work day'! Only problem is, he hasn't told Peter that just yet... (Gift to Malya for the Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange!)

This Feels Right, So Stay A Sec by ErrorInLoading

The boy immediately froze.

He did not just...

Call Tony Stark...

Dad.

Irondad Bingo #15: Peter Calling Tony 'Dad'

Cosplay And Confusion by The_Mishamigo

Peter goes to Avengers Con dressed as his idol, Tony Stark. Not expecting to win, he enters the cosplay competition because of his best friend Ned’s insistence.

Tony ends up inviting him to the compound. Secrets and misunderstandings ensue.

my empty soul is ringing with the sound of your voice by fairyScorpicus for S0lstice, FerretShark, coconutknightshade

“I noticed.”

--- 5 Times Tony listened to Peter's voicemails... and 1 Time He Didn't

---------------------------------------------------------- "A voicemail?" Tony glanced up to the nearest speaker in the ceiling automatically in his incredulity. "Do I even have any voicemails? Doesn't Pepper take of those?"

"Peter Parker leaves quite a few voicemails for Happy, which are currently unread," FRIDAY adds, and Tony smiles despite himself.

"Did Happy put you up to this?"

So High Above by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Tony is just starting to come to terms with his undeniably parental feelings towards his young mentee, when Peter's real father suddenly reappears in his son's life with promises and vows that Tony can't help but question.

Tony is absolutely, totally, 100% not jealous.

Right?

Rebirth by art_deco_deity

She supposes that it's just one week, but for Pepper it feels more like a glimpse of the future; or, how Peter comes to stay at the Tower for a week and how Pepper comes to change her mind about the child Tony dreamt up.

The Best Hands Are Our Own by spagbol99

The kid is acting off.

Tony Stark isn't sure when it became his problem to fix it.

Peter hasn't been himself for a few weeks. Passing out, falling asleep on the job and now mouthing off. Will Tony figure out what is going on before Peter takes it too far?

Febuwhump Prompts: 'hey, hey, this is no time to sleep' and 'don't look'. Chosen for me by the lovely Penguinmediamogul.

5 Times Peter Accidentally Stuck to Something by Call_Me_Coley for LittleMissAgrafina

And the one time he meant to.

PROMPT: Peter has a habit of accidentally getting himself stuck to things or things stuck on him cuz spidey powers and sleepiness, injuries, and emotions don't always mix too well with sticky spidey abilities - which Tony finds amusing.

Please be warned this is all pure fluff until a little hurt in the last chapter!

The Birds and The Bees by Winterturtle

“Oh. Okay. That’s good then.” Tony reached for his cup and took a long sip, tension bleeding from his shoulders. So, the kid hasn’t suddenly decided to ditch him. He was just being a teenager, doing teenager-y things and spending time with his—

Wait…

Tony spat out the coffee.

“His what?!”

~~~ Prompt: Could you maybe do a fic where Tony finds out about Peter and Mj without Peter telling him. Like maybe he walks in on them kissing or May just casually says “his girlfriend” or and Tony’s like “excuse me WHOS girlfriend

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy.

Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root.

I love him.

School's Start by happyaspie

Summer is over and Peter is ready to start classes but he has some reservations about being in school all day long after a very active summer. So, he goes to Tony because he's pretty sure the man knows everything...

Cue a late-night conversation that somehow leads Tony to questions what exactly he's done to earn himself such a good kid... a kid at all really... like, when did he become a dad?

Green, Red, and Blue by maroonweb

One lab caught his attention, a small kid with curly brown hair and brown eyes stared at Tony through the window.

"What the hell?" He asked before realizing he looked familiar and remembered his conversation with Pepper about the new interns.

Tony gave a small wave and the kid, Peter he remembered, blushed before turning back to his work.

"Oh hell no." Tony Stark was not to be ignored. Especially not by children.

"Fri, open lab 207."

The Morning Will Come (and the dream stealing your sleep will end) by Winterturtle for SuperHeroTiger

After a tragic incident, Peter Parker is left orphaned for the second time in his life. With no one else to take him in, Peter decided not to take his chance on foster care. Living in an abandoned building and the crows as his only company, the young hero is doing his best to maintain the illusion of a happy kid in front of Mr. Stark - one of the two remaining links to his past, happier life.

Look, technically, Peter wasn’t lying. It was just that Mr. Stark has never asked specifically.

On the Outside; Always Looking In by Chara426

Peter is excited to spend the weekend with his mentor and father figure: Tony Stark.

If only he can get past security.

My Comfort by inkinmyheartandonthepage

When Peter first came to live with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben, they had taken him to Build-A-Bear.

Peter forgets him stuffed animal at the Tower and races to get it before anyone can find it.

sleep well, bambino by LittleMissAgrafina

It wasn't long before Peter's tiredness started to catch up with him again, but he fought against it. Blinking it away each time that he started to doze.

He jerked up when a hand rested on his shoulder, his opening wide. "What?"

Tony chuckled. "Pete, you're falling asleep, why don't you head to bed? You can nap for a while until May and Pepper get here and we can have dinner." The genius asked him.

Peter shook his head stubbornly. He didn't want to sleep, he wanted to stay with Tony. "Nope. I'm fine. I don't need to sleep, I promise." He resolutely stared at the TV, sitting ramrod straight and ignoring Tony as he frowned slightly in his direction.

---

Comfortember Day 6. Exhaustion + 17. Falling Asleep On Someone

Even Children Get Older by LittleMissAgrafina for justt_ppeachy 

He looked up, frowning slightly as he stared at Peter standing in the doorway.

"...Kid?"

"Hello there." Peter smirked, but underneath it was clear to see that he was nervous about something so Tony straightened and wheeled one of the extra lab stools towards him. He gestured to it with his head, and Peter crossed the room to settle on the chair.

"I need your help." The teen said.

-

3 Times Tony realized Peter was growing up and the 1 time he knew he was already there.

Comfortember Day 10. Breakdown + 27. Proud + 30. Moving Forward

Tony's MIT hoodie by Selma_i 

Peter accidentally wearing Tony's shirt to school, and people notice.

Oneshot

You can also find it on wattpad. Username: Selm_i

<3

A Tale of Fathers and Beginnings by frostysunflowers for ciaconnaa 

Being a parent is full of ups and downs, a lot of trial and error and moments of overwhelming pride and joy.

For Tony, nothing could encapsulate all of that more than the run up to the birth of Peter and MJ's baby.

taken by peter_parkerson 

Febuwhump Day 3: Taken

He’s Spider-Man. And Spider-Man protects the little guy, puts everyone else above himself. Spider-Man makes any and all sacrifices necessary to keep other people out of danger.

If that means walking himself right into a room of bad guys, likely with guns, as Peter Parker - scrawny, geeky, vulnerable Peter Parker - then so be it.

He flips the top on his watch and presses the button on the inside, holds until the blinking light appears to tell him that his panic button has worked.

I Would Even Learn How to Love by Not_me_undercover for Chara426 

The plan was simple.

Step 1: Research how to be a good dad.

Step 2: Apply the research to his relationship with Peter.

Step 3: Profit.

write it on the skyline by ironfidus 

Five months after Mr. Stark invites Peter to his lab for the first time and kicks off the start of their weekly Lab Days, Stark Industries launches a new project: a youth-centered internship program, accepting applications from interested high-schoolers nationwide.

Naturally, Midtown High is all over it. Peter would be, too—except, well, he doesn’t know quite where he stands with his mentor. Frankly, he isn’t sure the internship program has anything to do with him at all—or that he even has an internship, period.

Tony Stark would, respectfully, beg to differ.

if i roll my eyes it means i love you by AppleJuiz 

But he never starts a conversation. With her, at least, though she can't really remember ever seeing Peter Parker start a conversation, except maybe with Ned but she doesn't count that.

She's very observant, she notices these things, stacks them away, carefully adding and organizing information, fitting together tiny pieces of a cosmic puzzle. She's not obsessed with him. She just notices things.

(Well, she is a little obsessed with him which is the root of this whole problem.)

Denial Is a Cruel Mistress by sabertoothhousecat 

“Hey Spider-Man!” Flash yelled down the hall at Peter. “Do a flip!”

Peter looked at Ned who looked at MJ who raised an eyebrow. They seemed to reach some sort of agreement because Peter turned, shouted, “Okay!” back down the hallway and executed a perfect back flip.

Literally no one noticed.

Not a single person looked up from their phones or their stupid conversations or whatever they had going on.

Flash was going to cry.

Or: Peter stops hiding his identity so much at school (for convenience, he swears). Flash is the only one who notices, and to his increasing frustration, no one believes him.

Or: Flash is the Candace to Peter, Ned, and MJ’s Phineas and Ferb

freckles by wolfiestark 

How had he never noticed the freckles under his eye, in the shape of a heart?

[marmixedwithabitofintellect]

The Story of You

Well here it is! The very much awaited Part 5! This chapter gives us an insight on what happened between H and Y/N...

Come talk to me about the story! Let me know also if you have any ideas you would want me to incorporate or to be added to the tag list!

Disclaimer: In no way do I wish to spread hate or negative opinions about any of the characters here depicted, this is just fiction and with the purpose of entertaining you guys

Click on the visuals to enhance your reading experience! Also, flashbacks are in itallic!

Part 5: Changes

June 17, 2021: Week Fifteen

New York City, New York. 12:00 Pm

I had just walked out from my appointment, Betty said everything was going well and I got to hear little one’s heartbeat which was a wonder on its own. I was hungry so I made my way to the nearest café.

As I was waiting in line to order I decided to text Harry and let him know how everything went, after sending the text I was looking at the menu when I heard someone call my name, I turned around and saw that Jason, Olivia’s ex was standing behind me.

“Hi, how are you?”, “Jason hi! I’m well, how about you?”, we hugged each other and moved along with the line “I am good, how about you?”, “Everything is going well, by the way, Season 2? True masterpiece”, he laughed.

We arrived at the cashier and even before I could order he asked me “Hey, how about we order and stay to eat? My treat”, “Uhm how about if we order and I invite you home?”, he nodded and gave me a look, he understood where we both are.

After about 15 minutes we got home and we sat on the table to eat, “So, I saw your picture… I guess congratulations are in order?”, I smiled a little “Thank you, I am so excited, still feels so surreal tho”, “I know the feeling, didn’t feel real when we had Otis and Daisy until I saw the bump and I met them”

“I am hoping to have a bump soon, I just look bloated every time”, “When you least expect it, believe me”, we finished eating and we moved to the couch with some coffee, “So, how have you been?”, “It’s been hard, I am not going to lie, but I am trying to focus on the kids and that they are ok”.

I reached out and squeezed his arm, it was my way of saying I understood what he felt. I still remember the day I met Jason, I had been visiting Harry on set and he was there too with both kids, we bonded over the best bagel spots on New York and how we could have some double dates to try them. Well, joke’s on us because there are dates, just not how we expected.

“I talked to her, the other day”, “You know you didn’t have to, right?”, “I know, but she deserved it, because although I am glad it happened, I know it shouldn’t have”, “And that’s why everyone always says that you have the purest soul”.

We talked for about an hour, he decided to leave, “Hey, before I leave, I wanted to ask you something”, “Sure, shoot away”, “I wanted to know if it is okay with you if I tell Olivia that we met? I really don’t want any misunderstanding”, “Oh, uhm, yes, sure”, he gave me another hug and he left.

June 19, 2021: Week Fifteen

Harry. London, England. 9:00 Pm

I closed the door and sighed. It was a long day of filming and the only thought in my head was getting in the shower and eating some takeout. As I was unpacking my bag for the day, I heard my phone ring with a new text.

From Olivia Wilde (9:17 PM): Hi, are you free? Missed you today, how about a dinner/lunch date?

To Olivia Wilde (9:20 PM): Hey, yeah, it’s okay, give me twenty.

After a quick shower and unpacking the food I ordered, I set my laptop on the living room and called her. After a few rings she answered, she was sitting in her room, she had a salad from my favorite place back in Los Angeles.

“Hey, you, I’ve missed you, long day? Thank you for the flowers”, she was smiling, “Hey love, how are you? It was a long day, excited to wrap filming before moving it to Italy, I am glad you liked them”, “Oh how lovely, I miss Italy”, we talked a little about everything, but I could see there was something bothering her.

“Hey, are you ok?”, “Y/N and I spoke the other day, I was surprised she reached out”, “Oh, really? I didn’t know”, “Have you spoken to her lately?”, “Just through text, had an appointment and said everything was fine, why?”, “Well, Jason met her the other day, they had lunch together”

I don’t know why but it made me feel jealous, “Huh, did anything interesting happen?”, “He said they talked about the baby and the kids, but nothing else”, “Good to know”, “Why are you being weird about it?”, “I’m not, why would you say that”, “Harry, look at your body language, they had lunch, nothing else”, “Well that’s fine by me”, “Is it?”

“It is, they became friends during filming, they met and had lunch, so what is there to not be fine?”, “The fact that you look like they announced their relationship and that he will be the baby daddy Harry”, “That’s not true and you know it”

“Do I? Harry, they had lunch and that’s it, you seem so jealous”, “I am not, why would you say that?”, “Because that it what I am seeing Harry!” we both sighed, “Listen, I am sorry if I made it seem that way, but I swear everything is fine”

“And yet I feel like you’re lying to me Harry”, just before I could talk, she hung up, I shut my laptop and pulled a hand down my face. She was right I was jealous, and I didn’t know why. I picked up everything and decided to head to bed. I laid in bed, but sleep wasn’t coming.

I was turning on my bed and when I looked at the clock and saw it was already 15 past 2, I went and made myself a tea and returned to bed. I missed Olivia and I missed Y/N and I hated feeling like this. After finishing my tea.

Harry. Los Angeles, California. 11:45 Pm

November 27, 2020.

I closed the door and dropped my keys on the dish by the door. After I removed my jacket and boots, I realized that the house was too quiet for my liking. I entered the kitchen I grabbed a glass of water and I noticed that the island had some bags of snacks there, I frowned.

I then realized that there was an herbal and savory smell in the air, and I followed it to the oven, where I found nothing but when I opened the fridge and saw a Tupperware with lasagna and a bottle of white wine.

As I was walking down the hall to the stairs something caught my eye in the living room. There was a table set with candles and two plates, along with some fairy lights which were now turned off, I didn’t understand anything, and I frowned.

I was walking up the stairs and I could hear her sweet voice behind the close door, but there was something off of it. “Honey, please don’t cry”, “I won’t, I promise, I’m just a little bit sad Dee”, “You should tell him, it’s the third time this has happened in the last month”, third time? What was Dee talking about?

“Dee he’s been busy, they’re filming the scenes they had to stop due to the Covid case”, “So? He isn’t filming all day, is he?”, “I know Dee, I know”, I could hear her voice and sniffles, as I was about to go in, I heard Dee speak again.

“Honey, just please, talk to him and let him know how you feel okay? Your feelings are valid”, “I know, I love you, talk to you soon”, I heard the FaceTime call drop and her laptop close, I gave it a few seconds before I opened the door.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you, my love?”, she was cleaning her under eyes, and she gave me a big smile, it made my heart feel small, “Hi babylove, I’ve missed you, how was your day?”, “It was okay, long but very productive”, “I am glad, have you eaten? I could make you a sandwich?”

I could hear her voice coming into the bathroom where I was changing and doing my facial routine, “Thank you lovie, we got some dinner after we finished recording”, “Oh, that’s nice”, “Lovie? Are you okay?”, “Yeah, I’m okay, I’ll meet you in bed”

We played a movie and I drifted to sleep, I opened my eyes when I heard her sniffles, the clock said it was a quarter past 1, “Lovie, what’s wrong?”, “Sorry I woke you, I’m okay, go back to sleep”, I felt her kiss my head and hug my back. We slowly drifted to sleep.

I woke up sweating and with my heart racing, I still remember that night, and until this day I feel guilty that I didn’t address the situation.

June 21, 2021: Week Fifteen

New York City, New York. 12:40 Pm

I had just finished preparing my lunch when my phone rang, I grabbed it and saw it was Sarah, “Hey momma, how are you?”, “Hi lovely! We are okay, how about you? How is the belly?”, “Still missing, but we hope it will make its appearance soon, speaking of, I wanna see the bubby”, Sarah laughed before telling me we should switch to FaceTime.

I answered and as Sarah appeared on the screen, I could see she was sitting on her hammock, “Oh Sarah you’re glowing!”, “You are the sweetest, I know I look like a zombie”, “Man if this is looking ‘like a zombie’, I don’t wanna know what the worst is”, we laughed and started to catch up.

After a few minutes Mitch appeared on the screen holding the baby, “Miss Y/L/N what a joy to see you”, “Mister Papa Rowland the pleasure is all mine”, “I just wanted to say hello and had to drop a little someone who’s due to a feed”, “I am happy to see you, take care Mitch”

Sarah stood up a little and set baby boy to feed, and then sat down, “Y/N, is everything okay?”, I could feel my eyes water, “My parents have decided that they can’t deal with my pregnancy and to never contact them again”, everything went quiet for a few moments, the only thing that could be heard was baby boy’s sounds while he ate.

“Oh honey, I don’t know what to say”, “It’s okay, I mean the situation is not okay, but I will be”, “You know that we love you right? And we will always be your family”, “I know, but it still hurts, and it just adds to the anxiety I already have”, “You know I will always listen right? Talk to me”

“How do you know you’re making all the right choices? I have been researching and reading everything and I feel so overwhelmed, I am shit scared of making the wrong choice, and the whole Harry situation is killing me”

“Oh honey, I felt and still feel the same way as you describe, it means you care, and let me tell you something: you will never have all the answers, and when you feel like you have the answer you will most likely need to look for a new one, but that is normal”

“As for Harry, you two need to sit down and talk, you still have time but if it is giving you su much anxiety you should talk soon, because your peace of mind is the most important thing here”, baby boy had finished eating and Sarah turned to burp him.

“Oh hi baby boy, you are growing up too fast”, “Say hi auntie Y/N, we can`t wait to see you and my cousin”, we talked for a while and then we said goodbye before hanging the phone.

June 26, 2021: Week Sixteen

New York City, New York. 7:00 Am

I’m hot. Sweating like a pig and wanting to cry hot. Damn hormones, damn me deciding to live in New York, damn you Harry Styles for getting me pregnant during the summer months. I tried to roll around and find a cold spot on my bed but couldn’t find one, so I decided to get out of bed.

I changed myself and just as I was leaving the bathroom, I notice something on my peripheral vision, my belly had popped! Today I actually looked pregnant and not like I had eaten a very big meal, I placed my hands on my belly and the tears started falling (darn hormones).

I went into my room to get my polaroid camera and took a photo of the belly, after it developed, I wrote down June 26, 2021: the day my belly popped. I took two pictures with my phone and decided to text one to Harry.

After that, I decided to go shopping for some baby stuff, it started to feel real and I was more motivated than ever to get some things, and maybe some frozen lemonade, to make sure that this heat did not kill me.

June 26, 2021: Week Sixteen

Harry. Cheshire, England. 7:00 Pm

I had been thinking of a way to better up my relationship with Olivia, and I came up with a grand idea, so here I am waiting for her to answer my call. When she did, she didn’t look as happy as I thought she would to see me.

“Hey love, how are you?”, “Hi Harry, I am doing well, how’s your mom and sister?”, “They are well, we are enjoying these few days before I leave”, “That’s good, how long will you be there?”, “Well, it will be like three weeks filming and I was thinking, you could maybe come for a few weeks?”

Her eyes lit up and she smiled, “Oh H I would love that! But are you sure? What about Y/N?”, “What about her?”, “I mean, I suppose you would want to be near her and the baby?”, she was right, I wanted to be near her but I know that Olivia and I needed this, “Everything will be okay, we are always in contact, but Liv, you and I deserve this and our relationship is also important to me and you know it”

“Okay H let’s do this, I will get things with the kids ready with Jason”, “I’ll send you the details honey, I love you, we’ll talk tomorrow”, “I love you too, can’t wait to see you”, we hung up and I saw that I had a text message from Y/N, it had a picture attached.

From Y/N <3 (18:45 PM): Someone decided to say hello…

I felt my heart start beating faster, I couldn’t believe it, there it was, the proof that I was about to become a father. Mitch was right, this is so surreal.

To Y/N <3 (20:45 PM): Oh my God, hello baby; this feels so surreal I can’t believe it. I can’t wait to meet him or her.

From Y/N <3 (20:50 PM): They cannot wait either Harry.

To Y/N <3 (21:00 PM): I’ll be back next week for the appointments, will have to do a little bit of quarantine and I’ll test before I see you.

From Y/N <3 (20:50 PM): Thank you, Harry, we’ll see you next week.

Tag list @tinydestinybear @harry-is-my-sunflower @onlyamylee @adorejaell @dirtytissuebox @msolbesg