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[redcarpetexpert]

[amethystarachnid]

This "Stark Protocol" Tony NEEDS a baby 😍 (or two, a boy and a girl 👀). Is there any possibility of a part 2 of this fanfic?

STARK PROTOCOL - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 7k

ᯓ★ Summary: just when you thought tony's protectiveness couldn't get higher you discover you're pregnant. with twins. Stark twins means chaos.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing, just one of the babies has a funny poop accident at the end lol

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The discovery hits you on an ordinary Tuesday morning. You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom tub, staring at the small plastic stick in your hand. The two faint lines staring back at you feel surreal, as if the moment hasn’t quite caught up with reality. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement, shock, and nervous energy coursing through you all at once.

You glance at the test again, as though repeated checks might somehow change the outcome. Positive. You’re pregnant.

A quiet laugh escapes you, tinged with disbelief. You’re going to have a baby. Memories of that night with Tony—the jokes about his overprotectiveness, his not-so-secret admission that he wouldn’t mind having a child with you—rush back, making you grin despite your nerves.

Your first instinct is to tell him immediately, but then you hesitate. This isn’t just any news; this is life-changing, monumental news. Tony deserves to hear it in a way that matches the moment. Something fun. Something unexpected. Something… Stark-level spectacular.

The gears in your mind begin to turn.

You spend the next couple of days meticulously planning, waiting for the right moment to put your plan into action. Tony, blissfully unaware, goes about his usual business, alternating between tinkering in the lab and pampering you like he always does. He doesn’t notice the sly glances you throw his way or the way you seem to be hiding something behind that radiant smile.

When the weekend arrives, you finally set your plan in motion.

The first step is simple: get him out of the penthouse for a few hours. “Why don’t you head to the lab today?” you suggest casually over breakfast, nudging his plate toward him. “I know you’ve been working on that new design.”

Tony narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Of course not,” you reply smoothly, though you can feel the corners of your mouth twitching with amusement. “I just thought you’d enjoy some uninterrupted tinkering time.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but ultimately relents. “Alright, but if I find out you’ve thrown some kind of surprise party in my absence…”

You laugh, waving him off. “Go. Have fun.”

As soon as he’s out the door, you spring into action. The decorations you secretly ordered arrive right on time, and you work quickly to transform the living room. Balloons, banners, and a smattering of baby-themed decorations fill the space, all in neutral colors because, of course, you don’t know the gender yet.

The pièce de résistance is a large box you’ve prepared, carefully decorated and filled with items that will clue Tony in on the big surprise. Inside are baby-sized Iron Man onesies, a pair of tiny booties, a framed sonogram picture you printed at the clinic, and a note that reads: “Stark Protocol: Initiated. ETA: Nine Months.”

You set the box on the coffee table and step back to admire your work. It’s perfect.

When Tony finally returns that afternoon, the moment is ripe for chaos. He walks through the door, his usual smirk in place, but it falters the second he spots the decorations.

“What… is this?” he asks, his eyes darting around the room as he sets his bag down.

You step forward, barely able to contain your excitement. “I thought it was time for a little celebration,” you say, keeping your tone light.

His gaze falls on the box, and curiosity overtakes his initial confusion. “Alright, what’s in the mystery box? This better not be a puppy. You remember what happened last time.”

You laugh, motioning for him to open it. “Just open it, Stark.”

He crosses the room and kneels in front of the box, shooting you a playful glance before lifting the lid. The sight of the onesies stops him in his tracks. He picks one up, holding it between his fingers as though it might evaporate if he isn’t careful. His brows furrow in confusion as he pulls out the tiny booties next, followed by the sonogram picture.

It’s the note, however, that seals the deal.

“Stark Protocol… ETA nine months…” he reads aloud, his voice trailing off. He freezes, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s pieced it together. Then, slowly, he looks up at you, his eyes wide.

“Wait. Are you…?”

You nod, your grin widening. “Surprise!”

Tony stares at you for a beat, and then his expression transforms into something you’ve only seen a handful of times. Pure, unfiltered joy spreads across his face as he drops everything back into the box and crosses the room in two strides. He scoops you up into his arms, spinning you around as laughter bubbles out of him.

“Holy— You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?”

“Yes, Tony,” you say through your laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We’re having a baby.”

When he finally sets you down, his hands remain on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as though trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “This is—wow. Just wow.”

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re okay with this, right? I mean, we didn’t exactly plan—”

“Okay with it?” he interrupts, his hands tightening their hold on you. “Sweetheart, I’m more than okay with it. I’m…” He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words, which is a rarity in itself. “I’m thrilled. Over the moon. I’m going to be a dad!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh again as he pulls you into another hug. “I’m glad you’re happy,” you whisper against his shoulder.

“Happy doesn’t even cover it,�� he replies, pulling back to look at you. “You’re carrying the future Stark genius. I mean, this kid is going to be unstoppable.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart swells at his excitement. “Let’s just focus on getting through the next nine months first, okay?”

“Right, right,” he says, nodding eagerly. Then his expression turns serious, and you recognize the telltale signs of Stark Protocol kicking into high gear. “Okay, we need a plan. Prenatal vitamins—are you taking them? Of course you are. I’ll research the best ones. And doctors. We need to find the best OB-GYN in the city. Or the country. Hell, the world. And—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest. “Breathe. We’ve got plenty of time to figure all of that out.”

He exhales sharply, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You’re right. I just—this is big, you know? I want to get it right.”

“You will,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. “We both will.”

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of emotions. Tony oscillates between giddy excitement and meticulous planning, his mind already racing with ideas for how to prepare. You catch him Googling everything from baby-proofing techniques to the latest advancements in stroller technology, and you can’t help but smile at his dedication.

As the evening winds down, the two of you sit on the couch, the box of baby items still sitting on the coffee table as a tangible reminder of what’s to come. Tony’s arm is draped around your shoulders, his other hand resting lightly on your stomach.

“So,” he says, his voice soft, “any idea when this little Stark will be making their grand entrance?”

“Late summer, I think,” you reply, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Perfect timing,” he says with a grin. “Just enough time for me to build a crib. Or a crib-slash-mini-lab. You know, gotta start them early.”

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Let’s stick with a regular crib for now.”

“Fine,” he concedes, though you can tell he’s already plotting ways to make it the most high-tech crib on the planet.

As you sit there together, the reality of your new future begins to settle in. There’s still so much to plan, so much to figure out, but for now, you’re content to bask in the moment. With Tony by your side, you know you’re ready for whatever comes next.

And judging by the way he keeps sneaking glances at the sonogram picture, his excitement practically radiating off him, you’re pretty sure he’s ready too.

The transformation in Tony after your pregnancy announcement is nothing short of dramatic. If you thought his overprotectiveness during your period was over the top, it’s clear that was just a warm-up. Now that you’re pregnant, everything you do seems to fall under the Stark Protection Protocol.

From the moment you wake up to the time you go to bed, Tony is there, watching, questioning, and sometimes downright interfering. He’s taken to carrying a notebook around the penthouse to jot down random thoughts about your health, parenting ideas, or anything else he deems critical.

“You shouldn’t lift that,” he says one morning as you reach for a bag of groceries on the counter.

“Tony, it’s a loaf of bread,” you reply, deadpan.

“Still. Bread can be heavier than it looks.”

You roll your eyes but let him take it from you anyway. It’s not worth arguing, and besides, you can’t help but find his doting behavior endearing—if not slightly ridiculous.

His intensity only increases when it comes to what you eat. He’s banned caffeine from the house, stocked the fridge with every conceivable prenatal-friendly food, and personally oversees your meals.

“Sweetheart,” he says one night over dinner, his gaze narrowing as he eyes the slice of pizza on your plate. “You’re eating the crust? The carbs aren’t exactly—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, leveling him with a look. “It’s pizza. I’m pregnant, not on a diet.”

“Right,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Crust is great. Carbs are fantastic. You want more cheese? Extra cheese?”

Despite his over-the-top nature, it’s clear how much he cares. Every step of the way, he’s there, doing everything in his power to ensure you and the baby are safe and happy.

By the time you reach the third month, you’ve settled into a rhythm. Your energy is starting to return, the morning sickness has eased, and you’re finally beginning to feel like yourself again. Tony, however, remains as vigilant as ever.

When the day of your next doctor’s appointment arrives, Tony is practically vibrating with excitement. He insists on driving you himself, ignoring your protests that the clinic is only ten minutes away.

“You think I’m letting anyone else chauffeur you and Baby Stark?” he scoffs as he opens the car door for you.

“Technically, it’s Baby Stark Junior,” you tease as you slide into the seat.

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Even better.”

At the clinic, Tony sticks to your side like glue, his hand hovering protectively at your lower back as you check in. Once you’re settled in the examination room, he’s quick to start peppering the doctor with questions.

“How’s she doing? Everything looking good? Are there any new tests she needs? Oh, and what’s the best way to—”

“Tony,” you say, cutting him off with a laugh. “Let the doctor do her job.”

The doctor chuckles, clearly used to nervous dads. “Everything looks great so far,” she says reassuringly. “But let’s take a closer look, shall we?”

She gestures for you to lie back on the examination table. As the ultrasound machine hums to life, you reach for Tony’s hand, squeezing it gently. His eyes are glued to the screen, his expression a mix of awe and curiosity.

At first, everything seems routine. The doctor points out the embryo, noting its size and heartbeat. But then she frowns slightly, leaning closer to the monitor.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, adjusting the angle of the wand.

“What’s ‘hmm’?” Tony asks immediately, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” the doctor says quickly, her tone reassuring. “It’s just… give me a moment.”

The room falls silent as she continues to examine the screen. You glance at Tony, whose brow is furrowed in concern. Then the doctor’s face breaks into a smile.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she says, turning the screen toward you.

“What is it?” you ask, your heart thudding in your chest.

“There’s another embryo,” she says, pointing to a second, smaller shape on the screen. “It looks like you’re having twins.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You stare at the monitor, trying to process the words. Twins.

Tony’s reaction is the first to break the silence. He lets out a stunned laugh, his free hand running through his hair. “Twins? Are you serious?”

“Very serious,” the doctor says, still smiling. “It’s not uncommon for one embryo to be harder to detect early on. They’re both healthy, though, and everything looks great so far.”

You turn to look at Tony, who seems completely flabbergasted. “We’re having two babies,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze snaps to yours, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “Two babies,” he repeats, as though saying it out loud will help him believe it. “Holy—wow. Okay. That’s… that’s amazing.”

His joy is contagious, and despite your own shock, you can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

The doctor spends a few more minutes explaining what to expect with a twin pregnancy before wrapping up the appointment. As you leave the clinic, Tony’s hand finds yours, his grip warm and steady.

“So,” he says as you walk to the car, “twins, huh?”

“Twins,” you confirm, still feeling a bit dazed.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you. “Do you know what this means?”

“What?” you ask, bracing yourself for whatever over-the-top conclusion he’s about to draw.

“I need to double everything,” he says, his expression deadly serious. “Double the baby-proofing, double the cribs, double the toys—hell, we need to double the size of the penthouse.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony, we don’t need to double the size of the penthouse.”

“Sweetheart, we’re having two Stark geniuses. They’ll need space to build their first prototypes.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. “Let’s just get through the pregnancy first, okay?”

“Deal,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

The ride home is filled with excited chatter as Tony starts brainstorming baby names, nursery themes, and potential inventions to make parenting twins easier. His enthusiasm is palpable, and by the time you pull into the garage, you’re already feeling more at ease about the road ahead.

That night, as the two of you lie in bed, Tony’s hand rests protectively on your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your shirt.

“Twins,” he murmurs again, his voice filled with wonder.

“Still wrapping your head around it?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“Completely,” he admits, turning to look at you. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You reach up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. “Me neither.”

As you drift off to sleep, the reality of your growing family feels a little less daunting, and a whole lot more exciting. With Tony by your side, you know you’re ready for whatever challenges—and joys—lie ahead.

The next few days are a whirlwind of excitement and planning. The news of twins has sent Tony into overdrive, and he spends every waking moment researching, organizing, and brainstorming ways to prepare for their arrival. It’s both endearing and exhausting to witness.

“Alright,” Tony announces one evening, dropping onto the couch beside you with a sleek tablet in hand. “We need to talk names. Stark-level names. None of this basic nonsense.”

You laugh, curling your legs under you as you turn to face him. “Tony, we don’t even know the genders yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We plan for all possibilities. Boy-boy, girl-girl, boy-girl—it’s a Stark family think tank tonight.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Fine. What do you have so far?”

He taps on the tablet and turns the screen toward you. It’s a list of names, complete with notations about their origins, meanings, and even their potential compatibility with the Stark legacy.

“Okay, hear me out,” he begins, pointing to the first name on the list. “For a boy: Leonardo. Strong, classic, nod to genius inventors—da Vinci, obviously.”

You tilt your head, considering it. “Not bad. But does that mean we have to stick with an artist theme for the other one?”

Tony grins, clearly delighted by your engagement. “Exactly what I was thinking. How about Raphael? It’s strong, recognizable, and—”

“—also a ninja turtle,” you finish, raising an eyebrow.

He groans dramatically, tossing the tablet onto the coffee table. “You’re impossible to impress.”

You laugh, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I like Leonardo. We’ll keep it on the list. What about girls?”

His eyes light up as he picks up the tablet again. “Oh, I’ve got some great ones for girls. Athena—powerful, goddess of wisdom. Or Nova—short, sharp, and celestial. Perfect for a Stark.”

You smile softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. Despite his larger-than-life personality, it’s clear how much thought he’s put into this, how much he already loves these babies.

“I like Nova,” you admit, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It’s different, but not too out there.”

Tony wraps an arm around you, his fingers brushing over your arm. “Nova it is,” he murmurs. “And don’t worry, we’ll come up with a few backups. We’ve got time.”

The two of you spend the next hour tossing ideas back and forth, laughing over some of Tony’s more outrageous suggestions (he’s still convinced that Starkette would be a great name) and adding your favorites to the growing list.

As the night winds down, you find yourself stretched out on the couch, Tony’s hand resting lightly on your belly. It’s become a habit of his lately—always finding an excuse to touch the bump, as though he’s already trying to forge a connection with the twins.

“You know they can’t hear you yet, right?” you tease as he leans closer, his lips hovering over your stomach.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice low and affectionate. “It’s never too early for a little bonding time.”

You smile, watching as he begins to speak softly, his words meant for the tiny lives growing inside you.

“Hey, little ones,” he says, his hand gently rubbing your belly. “It’s your dad. I know it’s early, but I just wanted to say hi. I’ve got some pretty big plans for you two, you know. Not too much pressure—just, you know, world domination and all that.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony.”

“What?” he says, looking up at you with a playful grin. “They’ve got the Stark genes. It’s inevitable.”

He turns back to your belly, his expression softening. “But seriously, you’re going to have the best mom ever. She’s already taking such good care of you, and she’s going to love you more than you can imagine. I’ll do my part too, don’t worry. Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’ve got you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you listen to him. Despite his usual bravado, there’s a vulnerability in his voice that takes your breath away.

“Tony,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He looks up at you, his gaze warm and steady. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” you say simply, unable to find any other words to convey what you’re feeling.

He smiles, leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. And I love them already, more than I ever thought possible.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with a quiet intimacy that needs no words.

Over the next few weeks, Tony’s overprotectiveness reaches new heights. He installs a state-of-the-art air filtration system in the penthouse (“just to be safe”), bans you from lifting anything heavier than a pillow, and insists on driving you everywhere, even if it’s just down the street.

“Tony, I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” you protest one afternoon as he insists on carrying your bag up the stairs.

“Exactly,” he says, not missing a beat. “You’re pregnant. Which means you’re carrying my kids. And that means I’m not taking any chances.”

You sigh, but there’s no arguing with him. And truth be told, you don’t mind the extra attention—especially when it comes with moments of unexpected sweetness.

Like the nights when you’re too tired to cook, and Tony orders your favorite takeout, complete with extra sides “for the cravings.” Or the mornings when he wakes you up with a gentle kiss on your forehead and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice because he read somewhere that vitamin C is good for pregnancy.

One evening, as you’re lying in bed, Tony rests his hand on your belly and begins his nightly ritual of talking to the twins.

“Alright, you two,” he says, his tone mock-stern. “Listen up. No giving your mom a hard time, okay? She’s working overtime keeping you both healthy and happy, and I won’t stand for any nonsense. Got it?”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect angels, just like their dad.”

“Exactly,” he says, grinning up at you. “They’ll take after me in all the best ways.”

As you drift off to sleep, the sound of Tony’s voice lulls you into a sense of peace. Despite the challenges ahead, you know that with him by your side, you’re ready for whatever the future holds.

It’s a lazy Sunday morning, and the two of you are tangled up in bed. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Tony’s head is resting lightly on your stomach, his arms draped around your waist as he chats away to the twins.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he says, his voice a soft rumble against your skin. “You’re both going to be brilliant, obviously, but maybe one of you can take after your mom in the patience department. Can’t have two of me running around. That’d be chaos.”

You chuckle, your fingers idly brushing through his hair. “Pretty sure one of you is already plenty.”

Tony grins up at you before turning his attention back to your belly. “And listen, kiddo number two—don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. You’re equally as awesome. We’re just trying to figure out who’s going to be the wild one and who’s going to keep things balanced. Flip a coin? Rock-paper-scissors?”

As he continues to talk, a sudden, unexpected sensation flutters through your abdomen. You freeze, your hand stilling in his hair.

“Tony,” you whisper, your voice filled with wonder.

He looks up at you, his brow furrowed. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Shh,” you say, placing a hand over his head. “Just… stay still.”

His eyes widen as he realizes what you mean. He presses his cheek more firmly against your belly, holding his breath.

Then it happens again—a tiny, unmistakable kick.

Tony jerks upright, his face lit with pure excitement. “Was that—did they just—”

You nod, laughing softly. “One of them kicked. First time.”

His grin stretches from ear to ear, and he places his hands on your stomach, as if willing it to happen again. “Hey, little one,” he says, his voice filled with awe. “That was you, wasn’t it? Do it again for your old man. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

As if on cue, another gentle kick presses against your belly. Tony lets out a laugh, his eyes sparkling. “Did you feel that? That’s my kid in there!”

You laugh, your heart swelling at his joy. “I think they like the sound of your voice.”

“Of course they do,” he says, leaning down to kiss your belly. “They’ve got great taste already.”

From that day on, Tony becomes even more attached to the twins. He talks to them constantly, encouraging them to kick and wiggle for him.

When you reach the fifth month, the day of the gender reveal appointment arrives. Tony is practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation as you drive to the clinic.

“This is it,” he says, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “The moment of truth. Pink or blue. Or both. Or—wait, what if it’s green? Is green a thing?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s definitely not green, Tony. Just breathe, okay?”

At the clinic, the technician leads you into the ultrasound room and begins the scan. Tony’s hand finds yours, his grip warm and reassuring as the screen comes to life.

“Alright,” the technician says with a smile. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

The room falls silent as she moves the wand over your belly, pointing out the shapes of the two tiny babies nestled inside.

“Baby A is a girl,” she announces, her voice cheerful.

Tony’s jaw drops. “A girl?” he repeats, his voice filled with wonder. “I’m gonna have a daughter?”

You squeeze his hand, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah, you are.”

“And Baby B,” the technician continues, “is a boy.”

Tony’s face splits into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. “A boy and a girl. One of each. That’s…” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s perfect.”

You laugh softly, wiping at your eyes. “It really is.”

The technician prints out a few pictures for you, and as you leave the clinic, Tony is practically vibrating with excitement.

“So, a girl and a boy,” he says as you slide into the car. “That means we’ve got to step up our name game. No more messing around.”

The next few days are filled with brainstorming sessions. Tony insists on creating a detailed spreadsheet, complete with columns for meanings, origins, and “coolness factor.”

“What about Aurora?” he suggests one evening, his legs stretched out on the couch as he scrolls through baby name websites. “Strong, beautiful, and it means dawn. Fresh start. Kind of poetic, right?”

“I like it,” you admit, adding it to the shortlist. “And for the boy?”

He pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “How about Finn? Short, sharp, and full of character. Plus, it’s got that adventurous vibe.”

“Finn’s good,” you say, smiling. “It’s definitely in the running.”

As the days go by, the names start to take shape. Aurora for your daughter and Finn for your son become the front-runners, but Tony insists on keeping a few backups, “just in case they don’t look like an Aurora or a Finn.”

At night, Tony continues his tradition of talking to your belly, now addressing the twins by name.

“Alright, Aurora and Finn,” he says one evening as you lie in bed. “Here’s the deal. You’ve got the coolest parents ever, so you’d better be ready to live up to the hype. No pressure, though.”

You laugh, your heart swelling with love for him. “No pressure, huh?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admits with a grin. “But only because I know they’re going to be amazing.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your belly. “And for the record, your mom’s the real MVP here. She’s doing all the hard work, so you’d better behave when you come out, got it?”

You reach out to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “You’re pretty amazing yourself, you know.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot to live up to. These two are going to need a dad who’s as awesome as their mom.”

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss. Despite his over-the-top antics and constant hovering, you wouldn’t trade this time with him for anything. Together, you’re building something incredible—something worth every moment of chaos and excitement.

And as Tony resumes his playful chatter with the twins, you can’t help but feel that the best is yet to come.

The day starts out like any other. You wake up to Tony gently rubbing your belly, as he’s done every morning for the past few weeks. “Morning, Aurora and Finn,” he says, his voice soft and affectionate. “Big day ahead. Don’t give your mom too much trouble, okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You say that every morning, and yet they seem to take it as a challenge.”

Tony chuckles, leaning down to kiss your belly before moving to your lips. “Well, they’re Starks. Trouble is in the DNA.”

The day goes on uneventfully, with Tony hovering like a protective shadow as usual. But by the evening, something feels… different. A sharp, cramping sensation ripples through your abdomen, and you freeze mid-step in the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Tony’s voice cuts through your focus, alarmed. He’s at your side in an instant. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the twins? Are you dying?!”

You groan, clutching the counter. “Tony, I’m not dying. I think… I think this might be it. The contractions—”

Before you can finish, Tony is already in full-blown panic mode. “FRIDAY! Get the hospital on the line. Start the car. Assemble the go-bag. No, wait—I’ve got the go-bag. Do we need snacks? Oh God, did we pack enough socks? What if the babies don’t like socks?”

You clutch his arm, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tony, breathe. We’ve been through this in the birthing class. This is normal. We have time.”

But calming Tony Stark is like trying to stop a hurricane with a paper fan. Within minutes, he has you bundled into the car, shouting instructions at FRIDAY and speeding toward the hospital like a man on a mission.

At the hospital, the chaos only intensifies. Tony insists on staying by your side through everything, but his version of “helping” is less than helpful.

“Okay, Y/N, deep breaths,” he says, pacing beside the bed as the contractions grow stronger. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. You’re doing great. Amazing. A total rock star. Do you need water? Ice chips? A helicopter to get us out of here?”

You glare at him, clutching the edge of the bed. “Tony, sit down. You’re making me more anxious than the contractions!”

“But I’m helping!” he protests, his hands flailing.

“You’re not! If you really want to help, stop pacing and let me focus!”

Tony freezes, looking like a scolded puppy. “Okay, okay. I’ll just… sit here. Quietly. Not pacing. Totally calm.”

He sits for approximately two seconds before jumping up again. “Is it too hot in here? Too cold? Should I ask the nurse to adjust the thermostat? Where’s the nurse? Why aren’t they here yet?!”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Tony, I swear to God, if you don’t sit down, I’m going to strangle you with the IV tube!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Right, got it. Sitting. Silent. Definitely not annoying my laboring wife.”

But, of course, Tony Stark being silent is an impossibility. As the hours stretch on and the contractions grow more intense, he tries every trick in the book to distract you from the pain.

“Knock-knock,” he says at one point, grinning nervously.

You glare at him, sweat dripping down your forehead. “Tony, if you tell a joke right now, I will kill you.”

He pales, holding his hands up. “Noted. No jokes. Moving on.”

When the time finally comes to push, Tony’s anxiety reaches a new peak. He hovers by your side, alternately shouting encouragement and panicking over every little thing.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” he says, clutching your hand so tightly it feels like your bones might snap. “You’re amazing. A warrior. A goddess. Wait, is that supposed to happen? Should it look like that? Nurse, is that normal?!”

“Tony!” you shout, your voice a mix of anger and desperation. “Shut up and let me concentrate!”

“Right, shutting up,” he says, his face pale. “Totally shutting up.”

But, of course, he doesn’t. As you bear down, sweat pouring from your body, Tony’s commentary continues unabated.

“Is that a head? I think I see a head. Oh my God, that’s a head! Y/N, you’re doing it! You’re—”

“TONY, I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING HOLY, IF YOU DON’T STOP TALKING, YOU’LL BE THE ONE NEEDING MEDICAL ATTENTION!”

He clamps his mouth shut, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the first baby lets out a piercing cry. The room erupts into a flurry of activity as the nurses clean and wrap the baby, placing her gently in your arms.

“It’s Aurora,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “Tony, it’s her.”

Tony stares, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “She’s… she’s perfect.”

But before he can fully process the moment, the doctor speaks up. “Alright, we’re not done yet. Baby number two is on the way.”

Tony’s face goes from awe to panic in record time. “Wait, what? Already? Can’t we have a break? A halftime show or something?”

“Tony!” you snap, grabbing his arm. “Focus!”

The second delivery is just as chaotic, with Tony oscillating between over-the-top cheerleading and outright panic.

“Come on, Finn!” he shouts, as though the baby can hear him. “You’ve got this, buddy! Just a little further!”

You groan, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him yelp. “Stop coaching him like he’s running a marathon!”

Finally, Finn makes his grand entrance, and the room fills with another cry. Tony’s knees buckle, and for a moment, you think he might actually faint.

“Tony,” you say, your voice weary but amused. “Don’t you dare pass out now.”

He straightens, shaking his head. “I’m good. Totally fine. Just… give me a second.”

When both babies are finally placed in your arms, Tony sits beside you, his eyes glued to their tiny faces.

“They’re… incredible,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible.”

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “We did it.”

“Yeah,” he says, his arm wrapping around you. “We did.”

Despite the chaos, the pain, and Tony’s near meltdown, it’s a moment you’ll treasure forever. Together, you’ve brought two perfect little lives into the world, and as you sit there, holding your new family, you can’t imagine anything more perfect.

The delivery room is quiet now, save for the soft coos of the twins and the murmurs of the nurses as they clean up. You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as you cradle Aurora and Finn against your chest. Their tiny hands clutch instinctively at the air, and their soft cries tug at your heart. Tony sits beside you, his gaze locked on the babies, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“Do you… do you want to hold one?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow.

He blinks, his eyes snapping up to yours. “Me? Are you sure?”

You laugh gently, though it comes out as more of a croak after hours of labor. “Tony, they’re your kids. Of course, I’m sure.”

Tony’s hands twitch at his sides as though he’s unsure what to do with them. A nurse notices and steps forward, offering to guide him. “Here, Mr. Stark. Just support their head like this.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding, carefully taking Aurora from you. She’s so tiny in his arms, her pink cheeks puffing out as she lets out a little yawn. Tony looks down at her, his face softening in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Hey there, Aurora,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “I’m… I’m your dad. That’s me. Daddy.”

The word hangs in the air, and you see his eyes glisten with unshed tears. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as he stares at her. “You’re so small. And perfect. How… how did we do this?”

You reach out, resting your hand on his arm. “I think you had a little help from me.”

He laughs, though it’s thick with emotion, and glances at you. “You’re not wrong.”

Finn lets out a small wail from your chest, and Tony’s attention snaps to him. “Is he okay? What’s wrong? Is he hungry? Cold? Should we call someone?”

“He’s fine,” you assure him, laughing softly. “He’s just letting us know he’s here.”

Tony looks torn, glancing back at Aurora as though he can’t bear to let her go, but eventually, he hands her back to you so he can hold Finn. The moment Finn is in his arms, Tony’s face crumbles again.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the baby’s tiny hand. “I’m your dad. And I know I’ve got a lot to learn, but I promise I’m going to figure it out. You and your sister—you’re my whole world now.”

Tears spill down his cheeks, and he doesn’t even try to wipe them away. You reach out to touch his hand, your heart swelling at the sight of him holding your son.

“You’re doing great, Tony,” you whisper. “They’re already lucky to have you.”

A few days later, the hospital staff finally gives you the green light to go home. Tony spends the entire morning triple-checking every detail. He inspects the car seats at least a dozen times, adjusts the blankets to make sure they’re just right, and insists on personally carrying both the babies out of the hospital, one in each arm.

“Tony,” you say as you follow him out, balancing yourself carefully. “You do realize the nurses already checked all of this, right?”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t check it Stark-style,” he replies, his tone serious. “These two deserve the best. Nothing but perfection.”

You roll your eyes fondly but let him fuss. After all, his protectiveness is part of what makes him Tony.

The drive home is equally over-the-top. Tony drives at a snail’s pace, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Every bump in the road earns a muttered curse, and he checks the rearview mirror every five seconds to make sure the babies are okay.

“Tony, relax,” you say, trying not to laugh. “They’re fine.”

“Fine?!” he exclaims, glancing at you with wide eyes. “We’re transporting the most precious cargo in the universe! Fine isn’t good enough!”

When you finally make it home, Tony insists on carrying the babies inside himself, refusing to let anyone else touch them. He sets them down gently in their bassinet, adjusting their blankets and staring at them like they might disappear if he looks away.

“They’re really here,” he says softly, more to himself than to you. “We’re parents.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder. “We are. And you’re already amazing at it.”

The first few days at home are a whirlwind. Tony hovers constantly, watching the babies like a hawk and rushing to their side at the slightest sound. He insists on being involved in everything—feeding, diaper changes, even lullabies.

One night, you find him in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair with Finn cradled in his arms. He’s humming softly, and Finn’s tiny fingers are wrapped around his pinky.

“Tony,” you whisper, leaning against the doorframe. “You should be sleeping.”

He glances up, his expression soft but determined. “I will. Just… not yet. He’s so small, Y/N. What if I miss something?”

“You’re not going to miss anything,” you assure him, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing an incredible job.”

He smiles, though his eyes are tired. “Thanks, but I think he’s the one doing all the hard work. Growing this cute can’t be easy.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Come on, Daddy. Time for bed.”

The nickname makes him pause, his eyes glistening again. “Daddy,” he repeats softly. “I’m still getting used to that.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you whisper, kissing his cheek.

As the days turn into weeks, Tony’s overprotectiveness doesn’t wane. He insists on baby-proofing every inch of the house, even though the twins aren’t even crawling yet. He researches every parenting book he can find, orders the latest baby gadgets, and constantly checks the temperature in the nursery.

But amidst all the chaos, there are quiet, tender moments that make your heart swell. One afternoon, you walk into the living room to find Tony lying on the floor with Aurora on his chest and Finn nestled in the crook of his arm. He’s talking to them softly, telling them about the Avengers, about his workshop, about the stars.

“And one day,” he says, his voice warm and full of love, “you’re going to do amazing things. But for now, just know that I’ve got you. Always.”

You stand in the doorway, watching him with tears in your eyes. Despite all his quirks and eccentricities, Tony Stark is a man who loves deeply and fiercely, and your little family is proof of that.

As you join him on the floor, lying down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them together. Because this—this messy, beautiful, chaotic life—is everything you’ve ever wanted. And more.

It starts out like any other quiet afternoon in the Stark household. The twins are happily napping in their bassinet, and for once, the house isn’t filled with Tony’s constant tinkering or FRIDAY’s updates about his latest gadget. You and Tony are stretched out on the couch, enjoying the rare moment of calm.

“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this parenting thing,” Tony says smugly, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Two babies, zero disasters today. We might actually be superheroes after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Tony, you just jinxed it. Never say something like that out loud.”

“Pfft, jinxes aren’t real,” he says, waving you off. “Besides, look at us. We’re unstoppable. Nothing’s going to—”

Before he can finish his sentence, a piercing cry erupts from the nursery.

“Welp,” you say, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Guess the streak is over.”

Tony follows you down the hall, muttering under his breath about how the universe is conspiring against him. When you reach the nursery, you’re met with the unmistakable smell of disaster.

“Oh no,” Tony says, stopping dead in his tracks. “That’s… that’s not just a cry. That’s a code brown cry.”

You peer into the bassinet, where Finn is wriggling unhappily, his tiny fists flailing. His onesie is stained in a way that makes you immediately regret having eyes.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, covering your nose. “How did this even happen? It’s everywhere!”

Tony takes a cautious step back. “Okay, new plan. You handle Finn, and I’ll supervise from a safe distance.”

You shoot him a glare. “You’re the one who said we’re unstoppable. Get over here and help me.”

Tony groans but reluctantly steps forward, pulling his shirt over his nose like a makeshift mask. “This is why I built suits, you know. To avoid situations like this.”

Together, you carefully lift Finn out of the bassinet, trying not to make the mess worse. But it’s no use. The more you move him, the more it seems to spread.

“Okay,” Tony says, his voice muffled by his shirt. “We need a plan. You grab the wipes, I’ll get the clean onesie. And maybe a hazmat suit?”

“Tony, just grab the diaper bag,” you say, exasperated.

He scrambles to comply, but in his rush, he knocks over a bottle of baby powder, which explodes into a cloud of white dust.

“Perfect,” you mutter, coughing as the powder settles over everything. “Now it smells like a powdery poop disaster.”

Tony hands you the wipes, looking sheepish. “At least it’s better than just poop?”

You manage to get Finn onto the changing table, but the moment you open his diaper, he decides to up the ante.

“Tony, grab a—!”

Too late. A tiny fountain arcs into the air, catching both of you completely off guard. You shriek, trying to shield yourself, while Tony flails wildly, yelling, “Abort mission! Abort mission!”

By the time the chaos subsides, you’re both covered in a mixture of baby powder and… other substances you’d rather not think about. Finn, meanwhile, seems perfectly content, cooing happily as though nothing happened.

“This,” Tony says, pointing at the baby, “is why they don’t make movies about superhero dads. No one would believe it.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the mess. “Welcome to parenthood, Mr. Stark.”

Once Finn is cleaned up and dressed in a fresh onesie, you collapse onto the couch, exhausted. Tony joins you a moment later, his hair still dusted with baby powder.

“Well,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders. “That was a new low for me. And I’ve done a lot of embarrassing things.”

“At least we survived,” you say, leaning into him. “Barely.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, I think this whole parenting thing might actually be tougher than saving the world.”

“Definitely messier,” you agree.

As if on cue, Aurora’s cry echoes from the nursery, signaling the start of the next adventure. Tony groans, burying his face in his hands.

“I’ll get her,” you say, patting his knee.

But Tony grabs your hand, pulling you back. “No, no, I’ve got this one. Stark to the rescue.”

You watch as he marches down the hall, determination written all over his face. Moments later, you hear him exclaim, “Oh come on! How is this even possible?!”

You burst out laughing, knowing that life with Tony and the twins will never, ever be boring.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: A Robin's Song - Epilogue

A/N: i regret nothing >:)

Five Years Later

‘Deadline at 12:00 AM tonight, Kent.’ Jon fumbled with his keys, reading the email his boss had sent out and unlocking the door.

It opened to a small apartment, empty, with some photos spread around, and a framed Bachelor’s degree over the couch. 

He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen counter, briefly tripping over a child’s toy. He sighed and picked up, setting it next to the briefcase. 

The fridge was littered with pictures, a mix of hand drawn and printed ones. Jon stepped out, checking the clock on the wall before settling down on the couch. He had about an hour before he needed to go out again.

A sticky note was on his phone cover as he pulled it out and he played with it, briefly considering calling the number written on it. It was from some pink-haired guy in his chem lecture who’d given it to him a few hours ago.

He pulled it off and set it next to the picture frame holding a picture of his high school years, gaze lingering a bit too long on the figure next to him.

Where would he be now? Surely, if he had made it big, Jon would have heard his name somewhere.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of this train of thought. But, after all, who could forget their first true love?

The phone lit up with a notification, and he swiped up, eyes brightening as he clicked on the banner.

It took him to a Q&A livestream of ROBIN, the only good thing he could remember from his last semester of high school that wasn’t tainted by memories of her, or painfully sweet scenes with the other half of his childhood.

Robin had on an oddly familiar green knit sweater and his usual green domino, and was smiling as he answered a fan’s question, a voice modulator over his normal talking voice. 

“The domino mask was originally for anonymity, although now it's more of a trademark. If I do end up going to a concert, I might reveal my real face to you guys. Thanks for the question!”

Jon’s brow was furrowed, something felt oddly out of place in a way none of it had before. Robin chatted about various new songs he’d released, and then gave a sneak peek to his new one, per the chat’s request.

“This one’s sort of a throwback to my first song, which I'm sure most of you know very well. It’s titled If Only You Knew, and it…it’s really close to my heart, for reasons I'm sure you understand.”

A message popped up in the chat, other people latching onto it and repeating it, the chat a chorus of “Tell us about Heather!”

The soft chuckle sounded painful on video, and Jon leaned into his phone curiously, wanting to know himself. This song had come out after he’d let his own unrequited feelings bleed out, covering them up with new feelings for someone who returned them, and he’d listened to it more then he’d like to admit.

The filters came off the video, including the voice modulator.

“If I'm telling this story, I'd like to tell it as myself. Not with Robin’s voice.”

Some unbridled feeling of shock and fear cause Jon to gasp aloud and drop his phone, the familiar voice, deeper now with a note of tiredness, washed over him, jolting him back to high school, back to middle school, back even to elementary and that little town he’d grown up in.

Long forgotten memories dug themselves up and flooded his brain without his consent, tears he hadn't realized he was shedding dripped from his chin as he shakily picked up the phone and stared at who he had thought was long gone from his life.

He zeroed back in as Robin’s, no, Damian’s voice recounted the journey of his music, the way every single song had come from a moment that he’d experienced, or that they’d experienced together. 

It was like reliving the whole experience through eyes that weren’t his own, tears pooling on his cheeks.

“After we…After I screwed everything over, he moved. I remember chasing after the stupid moving van and calling and calling and calling until I finally realized he blocked me.”

On-screen, he turned around and removed the domino, wiping his eyes, before plastering it back on and turning to his camera.

“I was a mess, for a little while. I won’t get into details, but it was not a fun time. I got help and stuff, and well, you guys know the rest.”

The chat was overflowing with messages, but the one that caught Jon’s eye was one that said “Do you miss him?”

It was selfish but he turned up the volume, desperate for an answer. He wanted to know as much as the rest of the fans, biting his lip until a metallic taste filled his mouth.

On screen, Damian inhaled deeply, eyes shut and voice wobbling. “In answer to Haylia_1654's question…yes. I miss him very much, and to this day I wish everything had gone much differently.”

“He was one half of my childhood, and I know that he’s doing well, as his little brother stayed close with one of mine. I wish him nothing but happiness, wherever he is and whoever he’s with.”

Jon’s chest was tight, the air being sucked out of his lungs with every little inhale.

His vision blurred, and before he realized what he was doing, he was typing out words onto the screen and sending them into the live chat.

Under the little diamond ‘S’ he’d made when he was in middle school to match Damian's ‘R’, and the username Jon_Kent, were the words “I miss you too”.

Desperation filled him and he repeated the message several dozen times, watching and waiting for Damian to take notice.  

On-screen, the boy was drinking from a water bottle, and Jon silently documented the exact moment his eyes landed on the message, water spat out onto the screen as his whited-out eyes moved from side to side, re-reading the messages until the rest of the frantic chat covered them up.

“Oh my God, oh my God, please, please, please-” A flash of green knocked the phone to the floor and the last the world saw of “Robin” that day were the black tennis shoes he was wearing, stream cutting off as the camera hit the floor.

Heart pounding in his chest, Jon clicked on the profile, finger hovering over the message button.

He had long ago unblocked Damian’s old number, only to find that it was no longer in service. 

Logically, this was the only way that they could get in contact. And he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to, wished for best friend back, the now-stranger who knew all his secrets.

He trembled in his seat, clicking the button and watching the words telling him he’d started a new DM with ROBIN_Offical.

Taking a deep breath, he typed out a short message, waiting for the response bubbles to come dancing across his screen.

Jon_Kent 

Hey, D

Missed you.

ROBIN_Offical is typing…

[sophisticated-creepy]

          The aromas of spiced nuts, cinnamon, and turkey legs perfumed the air, the gentle breezes of the early morning carrying the signature scents over the crowds of lustrously costumed characters mingling around the lush grounds of the Newberry Renaissance Faire. Minstrels sporting drums, pan flutes, and lyres serenaded passersby from stone bridges or wooden platforms adorned with swaths of colorful fabrics, the merrymaking of frivolity an infectious delight of ye old entertainment. Cheers and shouts erupted from clusters around tantalizing performers, as all the while, the sun beamed brightly in a picture-perfect, clear blue sky. Lola, clad in peasant maiden attire of a linen blouse and cotton skirts, crossed the main entry wooden bridge spanning a healthy flowing stream, entering the space created by and celebrated with magic, imagination, and mischief. Here, the Realm reigned supreme, and the currents of palpable chaos brought Lola’s spirit higher and lighter with every step she took with giddy enthusiasm filling her heart. The Renaissance Faire held its usual traditions and predictabilities, yet every adventure was always new, and rarely produced the same outcome twice, but if one thing remained steadfast and true no matter how frequent she entered the grounds, it had to be the permeating essence of Love.

          Her friends, also garbed in peasant attire of bar maid corsets, jerkins, and spritely pantaloons, were already three steps ahead of her, Lola choosing to linger behind on purpose to absorb her environment. After all, it was the Renaissance Faire where she first met Raphael and fell in love. She wanted to savor the intoxicating sights and sounds around her, to take in where this place, this very spot of earth, held more significance than any haunted house or ghoulish goblin fairytale, for it was in this treasured place where her soul came home. Walking onto the grounds, she presented her ticket to the attendant and received a map detailing special events and the myriad of stages for performances, but her sights were set on one particular section above all these wonderful things: the jousting ring. The knights weren’t scheduled to the field until one o’clock, which gave the group of friends plenty of time to explore and experience all that the Renaissance Faire had to offer.

          “All right, kids, what do we want to do first?” Modesta asked. She stepped to the side of the trail, the others gathering close to game plan their morning. “Personally, I want to visit the lapidary in the Makers’ Market,” she began. “I’m hoping there are some loose gems I can pick up to use in items for the store.”

          “I’ve got my sights set on some turkey legs and ale,” Jack declared, patting his stomach, “and I wouldn’t mind seeing some old friends in the pirates’ guild as well.”

          “Ooh! Look at this,” Lazare said, pointing to his map. “There’s the Royal Bookbinders and Printing Press, and the King’s Labyrinth. That sounds like fun.”

          “The Royal Bookbinders and Printing Press?” Lola repeated, unfolding her own map to confirm Lazare’s discovery. “That’s new. Raph didn’t say anything about those being in the faire this year.”  

          “In all fairness, he did tell us there are more spectacles this season,” Modesta said. “It looks like the Bookbinders and Printing Press are stationed next to the armory. We can stop there on the way to the joust.”

          “The King’s Labyrinth is on the outskirts of the Fairy Village,” Jack added, looking over Modesta’s shoulder to point out the location. In the distance, he heard the ringing knell of the town crier, and looking in the direction up the main path of the Makers’ Market, could just work out the tops of brightly colored banners and streamers from a multitude of flag poles. “We made it in time for the opening parade,” he said. “Let’s check it out before we do our shopping.”

          Stowing away their maps, the band of friends found an open spot on the outskirts of the crowds under a shade tree where they could watch and cheer on the parade of royals and nobles making their grand appearance. Lola only half-applauded the King as he came onto the scene, his perpetual smug-sneer and cold eyes making her skin crawl, and she was thankful her location wasn’t in his direct line of sight for him to notice her or her friends. As much as Lola loved and enjoyed coming to the Renaissance Faire, her relationship with its cast members was unique compared to most other patrons, who only came for turkey legs and a lively joust, and after watching the King gallivant in his pompous waddle down the path flanked with cheering peasants, was glad she was hidden from view.

          Next came Lola’s favorite part of the parade; the line of jousting knights. She cheered for the Red and Blue knights as they walked side by side leading the men fashioned in leathers and plated armor while waving exuberantly to the mass of peers honoring them with shouts and applause. The Black Knight followed close behind the front pair, walking with the Green Knight, and Lola had to fight every urge to berate the Green knight with “boos” when she spotted him. He was a popular character with a loyal following, so instead of vocalizing her outright displeasure, she stuck her tongue out at him, and then gave two thumbs down with a disapproving scowl. Being pitted against Raphael as his sworn, mortal enemy, despite their kinship as brothers-in-arms, The Green knight, Sir Richard of the fox, lived up to his rapscallion reputation of underhanded trickster ways, which annoyed Raphael on the jousting field when the man in green broke script to try and gain favor with the crowds to cheer him on for entertaining deceit.

          Behind the knight of morally ill-repute, walked the newest addition to the jousting team, the Yellow and Black Knight, Sir Tony. A seasoned jouster, his speed and quick work of his opponents on the tilt yard procured him the nickname Murder Hornet, his colors easily lending to the affectionate moniker. He secured his place into the cast as a way to spice up the monotony of rival jealousy between the Green and White Knight, and although his skills were quite revered amongst cast and faire attendees, his disposition off the field was more akin to a harmless bumble bee than to his house of the wasp, his doting serfs adorning the lovable title of the Yellow Jackets. Walking side by side with Sir Tony trod Lola’s favorite knight, and upon seeing his broad frame clothed in white and gold, his chain mail and bracers polished and glinting in the sun, she couldn’t help herself but to begin screeching like a wild bird.

          “Caw-CAW! Caw-CAW!”

          Her abrupt outburst startled her friends, a few patrons around them, and even some of the parade marchers, but she beamed brightly a large smile as her arm waved high above her head, pleased to note her cry secured the White Knight’s attention.

          A grin spread across Raphael’s face, and he excused himself from his conversation with Sir Tony, breaking away from the parade line to cross the slip of field around the dirt path to unite with his beloved under the shade tree. She laughed as he encircled her with his strong arms, pulling her close to lay a kiss upon her honeyed lips.

          “Any particular reason why you shouted at me like a crow?” he asked as he disengaged from their loving exchange.

          “Crows scream when they’re happy,” Lola answered.

          “I would make a quip about you being happy last night, but I don’t want to be thrown into horny jail,” he chuckled.

          “There’s a horny jail? Oh, dear! Please arrest me, Officer, for I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

          Raphael gave a sigh, bending down so his forehead touched with hers. “Woman, you are a distraction that will be the death of me,” he declared. “Keep an eye on her,” he said while straightening, sharing a specific look with the others, to which, they nodded in understanding. He pressed another kiss to Lola’s lips before departing back into the parade line, Sir Tony giving him a chummy shove on his shoulder upon return with a boisterous laugh that carried on the wind.

          Lola didn’t take insult to Raphael’s parting instructions, though she did roll her eyes when he basically drafted their friends to be her babysitter, as if she had the capability to get into that much trouble. More of the parade continued, the noble lords and ladies in their velvets, silks, and other finery traipsing behind the knights, and to her delight, watched as the Elven Lord and the pirate Captain participated in the celebrated march of royals and delegates. In past years, the fairy folk were considered “unwelcomed” by the King, and the pirates mainly kept to themselves by the water’s edge, tolerated, but rarely incorporated in the King’s festivities. It was good to see progress was being made towards inclusion of the Realm.

          Bringing up the rear of the parade, swaggering in a slow waltz along the pathway instead of a straight line, was another newer cast member, the Plague Doctor. His black robes kicked up dust around his feet as he swayed to the music of the violin he played, the long, hooked beak of his mask flashing sinisterly with every tilt of his head, the bulbous, white eyes a jarring contrast to the dark shadow he portrayed. Lola shivered as he passed, the haunting melody of his instrument caressing a spot in her ear that caused her to shake her head to try and dispel the weird, ethereal itch. She cursed him for being creepy…and intriguing. Lola took out a notebook from within her satchel, and jotted down notes of inspiration as the parade dwindled away, opening the road of the Makers’ Market to the people once more.

          “I love a parade,” Jack declared with a sigh, hands on his hips as the last of the minstrels and colors rounded a bend. “Are we ready to browse some wares?” he then addressed the group. Ready to start their adventure, the friends moseyed into the Market, eager to explore and discover the multitude of venders in unique craftsmanship. Their first stop was the tanner, where Lola picked up another leather journal, Lazare found a hip flask with what looked to be surrounded in dragon scales, and Jack spotted a handsome stein accentuated with brass studs. It had a weathered, seafaring appeal that he proclaimed to be his new vessel for his game night grog.

          They next found the lapidary, where Modesta ogled over the plethora of raw crystals, tumble stones, and the shinier, much more glittery pieces of loose marquise gems, ready for their settings and finishes.

          “Are you looking for anything in particular?” Lola asked, joining Modesta as she looked through the display casings of precious stones.

          “Not really,” Modesta replied with a shrug of her shoulder. “I might get a handful of tumble stones I don’t already have at the shop for some organites, but lately, I’ve been feeling the call to try my hand at jewelry making. Oh! Take a look at this,” she said, holding up what looked like a Petri dish the size of a silver dollar. “Morganite. That’s a pretty stone, and ooh! Look at this. Blue Spinel. That one is pretty, too. Ooh! Check out these rubies!”

          Lola was quickly forgotten by Modesta who lost herself to the stacks of gem stones, and with a smile, turned her focus to a bowl of miniature apophyllite pyramids. She purchased a handful of the shiny diamond-like points, the merchant placing them in a small leather pouch for protection, and once the transaction was complete, she stepped outside of the shop to join Jack and Lazare to wait for Modesta to finish shopping.

          “Let’s hit the Fairy Village once Modesta’s done,” Lola suggested. “There are a few specialty shops in that part of the faire that have the incense I’m looking for. Plus, the pirates are in that direction as well, so we can stay and listen to a song or two before making our way to the Bookbinders. Ouch!” She stumbled, reaching a hand out to brace herself against a tree.

          “What’s wrong?”

          “Are you okay?” both men asked at the same time.

          “Yeah, sorry,” Lola apologized with an embarrassed chuckle. “I forgot how much of a pain in the ass these shoes are. Now I remember why I don’t wear them, they’re absolutely killing my feet.”

          “That’s because your toe box is too tight,” Modesta said as she sauntered out of the lapidary to rejoin her friends.

          “My what?” Lola asked, mouth agape and eyes wide with mild horror.

          “Your toe box,” she repeated. “It’s the part of the shoe where your toes go.”

          “Okay, one, why do you know that’s what it’s called, and two, why does it have to sound so…creepy?” Lola’s question trailed off as her attention was distracted by the high-pitched lilting tune of violin music wafting on the breeze, and she turned her head in the direction of the Fairy Village where she observed the Plague Doctor from the parade waltzing into the borders marked with tents and campfires of the magical folk. Looking upon the gangly character, a bolt of lightning shot through her, clearing away hazy cobwebs that had gathered in clumps at the forefront of her mind, and her body tingled with the long overdue welcomed buzzing sensations known as inspiration.

          “Modesta, I could kiss you!” she shouted with excitement at her friend.

          “Please don’t,” Modesta objected as her brows furrowed, taking a step back in retreat.

          “I’m being metaphorical. You just gave me the spark I needed!” Lola started walking, abandoning her friends, her steps taking her down the path leading towards the Fairy Village, her notebook and pen plucked from her satchel already in hand, furiously scribbling her thoughts as fast as they manifested, her pages filling quickly with bullet points, webbings, and outlines.

          “Wait, I don’t understand. What did I say?”

          But Lola didn’t respond, as she was already halfway towards the Village, Jack and Lazare following after with a shrug of acceptance as they trailed behind. Jack took up Modesta’s hand, tugging her along, the three meandering in the background at a leisurely pace while Lola continued to stalk after whatever fancy had captured her attention.

          Lola couldn’t explain why she followed the siren song of the Plague Doctor, but his air of mystery was exactly the essence she wanted to replicate for her new villain in her rapidly forming mystery novel to be titled “The Toe Box”. Whatever enchantment was cast by the intricate and nimble fingered master behind the mask had her following him like a pied piper, and after much dodging and weaving between bushes and shrubs, she found herself lurking behind a thick pine tree, observing the dark figure waltzing sinisterly under the archway of the newly constructed attraction of the King’s Labyrinth. Lola hesitated, lowering her notebook and pen, pausing her notetaking. The music of the Doctor’s song continued to drift towards her, calling her forward despite dissipating the farther in the musician traveled. Against her better judgment, she stowed her writing implements back into her satchel and followed, entering the labyrinth.

          The walls towered above her, their textured façade manufactured to look like ancient, crumbling stones stacked on top of one another with moss and other damp vegetation emerging through the cracks of mortar. Even though the sky was open to her, the structure exceeded its purpose of making patrons feel trapped and lost. The Plague Doctor’s song had faded to a point where she could no longer detect the melody, and with a frown, figured he had solved the labyrinth, and was on the next part of his meandering journey.

          “Oh, well,” she said with a sigh. “At least I managed to get a few good ideas. Who knows? Maybe I’ll run into him again later. Now…to find my way out.” She turned in a circle, debating on which path to take, settling on the crossroad to her left. She continued her promenade to what she believed was deeper into the winding catacombs of the maze, holding onto hopeful feelings of nearing its center soon, when another turn took her onto a path blanketed in fog.

          “Ooh! Spooky,” she declared with a gleeful smile, enjoying the tendrils of thin smoke she kicked up from her movements. “Maybe this means I’m getting close to the end.”

          Onward she continued, enjoying the creepy ambiance, rounding a corner that opened up into a small clearing. She successfully reached the center of the labyrinth, noting that multiple paths of the maze channeled patrons to this exact spot no matter which direction they took. A clear exit path, marked by an archway mirroring the entrance, stood directly across from her as she entered the fog filled clearing. The small rotunda was designed to resemble a decaying cemetery, complete with scattered remains of tombstones and monumental statues, the crumbling remains weather-worn and forgotten, overtaken by time and nature.

          “Definitely spooky,” Lola confirmed for herself. The impressive artistry of set-design was worth notetaking, as well as a few sketches, and once again, she rummaged for her notebook. With her attention focused on the confines of her satchel, she was unaware of the tall, sizeable statue looming in front of her, and knocked into the sturdy structure, dropping her items to the ground just as she retrieved them.

          “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry!” she apologized, kneeling down to pick up her things. She then laughed at herself, feeling silly for apologizing to an inanimate object, at least, she thought it was funny, until the statue started to move.

          Lola slowly rose from the ground, eyes wide at what she believed to be a tombstone monument draped in a hooded cloak of heavy fabric turn to face her. The obscuring shroud of the thick cowl blocked out any type of discernable facial features, leaving a void of shadows where the head should be. The dilapidated graveyard was eerie enough on its own merit, but as the figure moved, the air grew cold and clammy, causing Lola’s breathing to come in as chilled and shallowed draws, barely sufficient to fill her lungs. She took a step backwards, fear telling her to run while at the same time freezing her in place, the small hairs on her body standing on end, an instinctual indicator that whatever stood before her was, in fact, very dangerous.

          The monument remained fixed to its one spot, and Lola blinked, fear ebbing enough for her brain to process what stood so rigidly in front of her. Perhaps the stoic statue was an animatronic on a swivel base, and moved at random as a scare-tactic for people wandering the maze, so she reached out a cautious hand, attempting to understand how the prop operated, but it flinched back a step as her hand drew near, avoiding her touch. She let out a relieved, albeit nervous, chuckle as she dropped her arm.

          “Oh! You are alive,” she said, then mimed wiping sweat from her forehead. “Whew! For a moment, you really gave me quite a fright. Sorry again for bumping into you.”

          The figure gave a slow, deliberate bow as a way to display acknowledging and accepting her apology. Its movements gave Lola a chance to fully look over her new acquaintance, surmising the form to be of masculine build, with pale hands adorned with many large and bejeweled rings on each of his fingers poking out of his long, robed sleeves. Lola also noticed that the cloaked man held in his possession a black, leather bound book with tiny slips of shiny paper sticking out along the tops and edges of brittle, yellowed pages. Spying the book, her brows furrowed in confusion, for it set off alarm bells, triggering a string of memories to flood her thoughts, and as the figure turned to walk away, clarity broke through her mental labyrinth, and she blurted out her shocking recollection.

          “Lillian’s grimoire!”

          Numbing terror crawled up Lola’s windpipe, choking the breath out of her as the robed figure first halted in his tracks, and then began to gradually face her head on once more. His earlier demeanor of indifference shifted into menace, the air between them resting thick and heavy. Lola could have sworn she heard her name being called, yet it sounded distant, and underwater, but there was no time to dwell on the matter that may or may not be happening in the background, for Lola was too transfixed on the man who thumbed through the alleged grimoire, too horrified as he raised three glittery fingers into the air. He hooked them into a clawed position, swiping them down through the air to then make a random assortment of other gestures, drawing intricate, invisible symbols, and that was all the incentive she needed for her brain to command her to run.

          She turned on her heel, booking in a hard sprint towards the path whence she came, desperate to put whatever cruel entity this was far behind her, and upon leaving the clearing, ran full force into Modesta, the two toppling over one another, hitting the ground hard.

          “Ow! Hey! Watch it! Lola?” Modesta shook her head, clearing away the daze of being knocked over. She was unaware it was Lola who collided with her, and any trace of irritation evaporated as she saw her friend scramble to her feet in blind panic.  “Lola, what’s wrong?”

          “He has it!” Lola shouted, recognizing Modesta, and lunged at her, grabbing an arm and yanking her upright. “He has it!” she repeated.

          “Has what? What are you talking about?” Confused, Modesta got her legs under her, and followed Lola who practically dragged her to the place she had just been running from, suddenly finding herself in the center of the labyrinth with Lola pointing wildly at a crusty, mottled tarp hanging off the crumbled remains of a statue.

          “There! He has Lillian’s grimoire!”

          “Use more words, Lola, what are you saying?”

          “That man, in the cloak, has Lillian Northcott’s grimoire,” Lola again shouted, “and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he tried to hex me!”

          Modesta marched over to the figure Lola indicated, and yanked down on the fabric, revealing nothing more than a simple statue the shroud had covered. “There’s no one here, Lola. Just a tarp and this random, lonely can of paint someone forgot to put away.” She nudged the paint can with her foot, sliding it in a better hiding spot between the base of the crumbled statue and grave marker so as not to spoil the immersion experience for others traipsing through.

          “But…there was someone here, and he had Lillian’s grimoire,” Lola tried to explain while looking around the cemetery for any sign of the man she encountered.

          “Lillian’s grimoire from the Manor House?” Modesta scoffed. “We’re the only people who know about that, unless you think ‘Newspaper Man’ has taken to wandering the Renaissance faire, too.”

          “Newspaper Man wouldn’t try to hex me,” Lola stoutly retorted, shooting Modesta a stern look.

          “Hex you? Lo, no one wants to hex you. Whomever you saw is gone now, and if he was that theatrical, maybe what actually happened was you met a new cast member. Didn’t Raph say the Faire was incorporating more actors whose job it is to roam the grounds?”

          “Maybe,” Lola relented, the events of the last few moments becoming muddied as uncertainty crept into her mind as to what she experienced. “But, if he is an actor, then he needs to reel it in. He was almost too menacing. Maybe…if we try tracking him down….”

          “Oh, no,” Modesta cut in, stopping any notions of mischief she knew Lola was on the path of creating. “See, this is why you can’t be left alone,” she said with a smile. “You cause too much trouble.” She then hooked her arm with one of Lola’s, leading them both out of the labyrinth. “But, if you’re really that concerned, maybe the Elven Lord can give you a charm or amulet to help ward off any potential hexes.”

          The idea of visiting with the Elven Lord perked up Lola’s spirits, and her steps became buoyant, a smile returning to her face. If anyone had the power to dispel or thwart away the essence of evil energy, it had to be the mystical lord dappled in silks of silver and plum.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello, hello, hello, friends!

Surprise! I survived the holidays, and can FINALLY get back on a consistent schedule! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I've got plenty more along the way! You all have been so kind and amazing while waiting for me to get my butt in gear, so thank you for ever and always!

Enjoy, and I'll see you again soon!

~Melissa

[jessicatredes]

The town square was packed tight with people, corralled this way and that by Peacekeepers, dependent if you could be reaped or not.  Livestock or spectator.  Children moved slowly through the lines, fingers pricked and papers blotted with blood.  The southern sun already high in the sky, clothes specifically worn for the reaping showing signs of sweat and dirt already.  Banners with the Capitol emblem shifted with the soft summer wind.  While the nearby processing plants were closed for the holiday, the smell of leather still lingered in the air.

The front of the Justice Building had been transformed into a makeshift stage.  Several sets of chairs lined the outside of the building, each separated by a tall vase filled with native bluegrass and wild flowers.  Two glass bowls sat on either side of a microphone.  Thousands of slips of paper filled them, each adorned with a child’s name in identical print.  A small tapestry hung over the stands the bowls were on, embroidered with a cow skull and Ad multos annos; a wish for a long life.

Once the area had become claustrophobic and the cameras were rolling, the mayor’s family and living victors emerged from the building.  All look defeated, except for the woman following up the rear in a gaudy, bright outfit.  A pantsuit in deep navy, with what looked like tinsel running through the fabric, matched the woman’s hair, pulled into a high ponytail.  

“Sit! Sit!  We’re beginning soon everyone!”  The woman fretted, flocking between the two sides of the stage. “Everyone!  Good posture and big smiles!” 

Cordelia Poverly, Capitol Escort assigned to District 10 for a second year in a row.  Her anxious behavior was probably due to her opening year as an escort ending within the first ten minutes of the game.  Two twelve year olds reaped, killed in the immediate bloodbath.   In an interview alongside their mentors, Cordelia chirped that not all debuts were stellar; no indication of remorse for the dead.

Another handful of minutes passed before the Justice Building’s belltower rung out ten times, signaling the hour and start of the reaping.  The Capitol woman threw her ponytail over her shoulder, a bright smile on her face before stepping up to the microphone. 

“Welcome, welcome!  What a glorious morning to celebrate the start of the 68th Hunger Games,” She paused for a small clap, looking back at the others on the stage.  They followed suit, though less enthusiastically, before she continued.  “As we all know, the Hunger Games are a solemn reminder, brought forward by the Treaty of Treason, to never repeat the Dark Days.”

The many screens dotted around the square, presently broadcasting Cordelia’s introduction, flickered to a film all were familiar with.  Scenes of war and disarray, narrated by President Coriolanus Snow, shifted to peaceful clips.  Prosperity.  Joy.  Families together and clear skies.  As it came to an end, the screens switched back to Cordelia.

“Wonderful,” She sang. “And now, before selecting our brave tributes, let’s remember our living victor’s who proudly represented District 10 in prior games.”  

Turning slightly, she faced half to the crowd, half to the right of the stage.  Six chairs lined this side, with four occupied.  Two instead had a small card embossed with the district’s emblem.  Cordelia listed off the living, clapping as each briefly stood and waved to the crowd. 

“Falabella Hackett, 43rd Hunger Games… Colter Barlowe, 39th Hunger Games… Lusitano Whitlock, 27th Hunger Games… Valencia Camacho, 22nd Hunger Games…

“Fantastic! Now,” Cordelia said, turning back to the front and clasping her hands together.  “For the main event.”

The tinseled woman moved away from the microphone, standing behind the bowl on the right side of the stage.  She slipped her hand in.  Dug around the slips.  Pulled a lone paper out.  Moved back to the center.  All this done while the spectators looked on, holding hands and breath.  The late morning sun baking the already restless crowd.      

“For our brave young lady…” Cordelia paused long enough for a true hush to fall over the district.  “Marlo Hackett!”

There was a second of stillness as the name settled over the crowd, creeping across their minds.  The last name, just briefly said moments before, began to register.  Hackett.  Prior victor.  A startling and hysteric cry was let out on stage.  Falabella attempted to stifle her outburst, hand covering her mouth as she turned away from the cameras that would be focusing closely on her.  

In the last rows of the pack of children, a small girl, only thirteen, stepped out.  She looked pale.  Wiped the sweat from her brow as the sun continued to beat down on her.  She half-tripped, caught by another girl before they released her just as fast, like they’d somehow be reaped as well.  Eventually she staggered up the stairs.  Ushered by Cordelia to her spot on the stage.  Marlo looked to her mother, tears streaking her cheeks.  

“What a reaction from our latest victor,” Cordelia said, placing her hands over her heart in faux pity. “As always, after a tribute has been selected, a volunteer may step forward.  Do we have any valiant girls in the crowd?”

A beat.  Stifled crying was all that could be heard at first, little Marlo rubbing her eyes constantly.  Another.  Falabella racked with sobs.  Cordelia surveyed the crowd, preparing to move on to the boys.  Then, before she could speak, only a few rows away from the stage, a single hand raised.

“I’ll volunteer,” a seventeen year old called.  Her eyes briefly met with Falabella’s, before looking back to the Capitol woman.  The front rows parted.  Staggered away, confusion on their faces. Volunteer? This was a girl from one of the community homes.  No relation to the Hacketts, and little to no reason she’d feel the need to replace Marlo.  No reason to sign herself to certain death.  

The teenager walked forward, back straight and head high.  She reached the top of the stairs.  Her vision felt tunneled despite her attempted confidence, sunspots dancing in her eyes.  She copied Marlo, wiping the sweat from her face in an attempt to look more put together.  During this, Falabella had rushed to Marlo, yanking her daughter away from the front and back towards her chair.  Clutched her to her midsection.

“Lovely, I don’t believe District 10 has had a volunteer in several years!” Cordelia said, pulling the new tribute towards the microphone.  “Please, introduce yourself.” 

The girl cleared her throat.  Eyes danced to the cameras closest to her, ignoring the harrowed faces across from her.  A cold dread seeped into her.  The reality of what she’d done sinking in.  She stepped closer to the microphone, voice not betraying her nerves.

“Sutherland Acosta.” 

[stepandrepeatlasvegas]

Why Red Carpets are Essential for Every Event

The presence of red carpets is a symbol of elegance and prestige in various events. It sets the tone for any event, such as a celebration, creating magic. Red carpets create an atmosphere of official welcome, drawing attention and adding a premium touch. They turn any event into a special and memorable event. Using red carpet lighting at your event sets a special spot where guests feel valued, enjoy happily, and enjoy feeling truly special. Choose a company that provides red carpets at affordable prices with high quality. Best for Photos A red carpet is the perfect photo spot, making every moment special. Whether it's a wedding or an award ceremony, guests feel like VIPs as they walk on the red carpet. The bright red rug stands out, making every photo more eye-catching. Red carpets create a focal point, making it easy to take memorable pictures that everyone will enjoy. At events with media attention, the red carpet ensures that every photo reflects class and excitement. Based on your event requirements, you can also choose an iPad rental Las Vegas service. Sets the Tone When the red carpet is rolled out, it sets the tone for the event. It helps create the atmosphere and sets the tone for the entire event. The rich color and smooth texture make any event feel more significant, showing that something important is happening. A red carpet turns an event into something more than an occasion, making everyone feel part of something special. A red carpet makes the event feel more special and classier, leaving guests with a strong impression of elegance. Grand Entrance Everything matters in special events, from the entrance to the ambiance inside. That's why placing red carpets at the entrance provides a grand entry experience when guests walk on them. Red carpets grab attention, highlight the importance of the event, and make guests feel welcomed and unique. A red carpet entrance creates a special and elegant atmosphere, whether for a business event or a personal celebration. It highlights the entrance of guests and celebrities, making the moment more memorable. About Step and Repeat Las Vegas: Step and Repeat Las Vegas offers the best quality red carpets, trade show booth Las Vegas printing, and event banner printing services. This company provides its services at affordable prices and is always focused on delivering the best results. To get more details, visit https://stepandrepeatlasvegas.com/

Original source: https://bit.ly/40XjFqe

[hiiimanshii]

Best Branding Solutions Company in Kamrej, Surat

In today’s competitive marketplace, branding has become an essential aspect of business success. Companies in Kamrej, Surat, are recognizing the importance of building a strong brand presence to stand out from the competition. This article explores the characteristics of the best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat, focusing on the qualities that make them an ideal partner for businesses aiming to enhance their brand identity.

Why Branding is Essential for Business Success

Branding is more than just a logo or tagline; it’s the complete perception of your business in the eyes of your customers. A well-established brand helps:

Build trust and credibility. 

Differentiate from competitors. 

Create emotional connections with customers. 

Drive customer loyalty and repeat business.

For businesses in Kamrej, Surat, finding the best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat is a strategic step toward achieving these goals.

What to Look for in a Branding Solutions Company

Choosing the right branding partner is critical. Here are some key factors that define the best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat:

1. Expertise in Brand Strategy Development

The ideal branding company should excel in crafting a comprehensive brand strategy. This involves understanding your business goals, target audience, and industry trends to create a roadmap for brand success.

2. Creativity and Innovation

Branding is about standing out. A company that brings fresh, creative ideas to the table ensures that your brand captures attention and remains memorable.

3. Experience with Diverse Industries

A branding company with a broad portfolio of clients from various industries demonstrates adaptability and the ability to tailor solutions to unique business needs.

4. Strong Focus on Visual Identity

Visual elements like logos, color schemes, and typography are vital for brand recognition. The best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat, should specialize in designing compelling visual identities.

5. Digital Branding Expertise

In the digital age, branding extends to online platforms. A company skilled in digital branding, including website design, social media, and online marketing, can help amplify your brand's reach.

Services Offered by the Best Branding Solutions Company in Kamrej, Surat

To meet the diverse needs of businesses, a top-notch branding company in Kamrej, Surat, typically offers a range of services, including:

1. Logo Design and Brand Identity

A well-designed logo is the cornerstone of your brand identity. It communicates your brand's values and sets the tone for all your marketing efforts.

2. Brand Strategy and Positioning

This involves defining your brand’s unique value proposition, identifying target audiences, and creating a strategy to position your brand effectively in the market.

3. Website Design and Development

A professional website acts as the digital face of your brand. It should be visually appealing, user-friendly, and optimized for search engines to enhance online visibility.

4. Social Media Branding

Social media platforms are powerful tools for building and maintaining brand awareness. The best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat, can create cohesive social media profiles and content strategies.

5. Content Creation and Marketing

Content is king when it comes to branding. High-quality content, such as blogs, videos, and infographics, helps convey your brand’s story and connect with your audience.

6. Packaging and Print Design

For businesses dealing with physical products, packaging design plays a crucial role in influencing purchase decisions. A branding company can also assist with print materials like brochures, business cards, and banners.

How the Best Branding Solutions Company in Kamrej, Surat, Adds Value

Partnering with a reputable branding company offers numerous benefits:

1. Professional Guidance

With their expertise, a branding solutions company provides insights and strategies tailored to your business needs, ensuring a cohesive brand image.

2. Time and Cost Efficiency

Outsourcing branding efforts allows you to focus on core business activities while professionals handle the creative and technical aspects.

3. Enhanced Market Presence

A strong brand identity increases visibility and recognition, helping your business gain a competitive edge in Kamrej, Surat, and beyond.

4. Long-Term Growth

Effective branding lays the foundation for sustained growth by fostering customer loyalty and advocacy.

Steps to Partner with the Best Branding Solutions Company in Kamrej, Surat

To ensure a successful collaboration, follow these steps:

1. Define Your Branding Goals

Identify what you want to achieve through branding, whether it’s increasing awareness, launching a new product, or rebranding an existing business.

2. Research and Shortlist Companies

Look for companies in Kamrej, Surat, with a strong portfolio, positive client reviews, and expertise in your industry.

3. Request Proposals and Compare Services

Reach out to potential partners, discuss your requirements, and evaluate their proposals based on creativity, strategy, and pricing.

4. Schedule Consultations

Meet with the shortlisted companies to understand their approach and ensure they align with your vision.

5. Monitor Progress and Provide Feedback

Once you’ve chosen a branding partner, maintain open communication and provide feedback to ensure the final output meets your expectations.

Conclusion: Empower Your Business with the Best Branding Solutions Company in Kamrej, Surat

Investing in branding is an investment in the future of your business. By partnering with the best branding solutions company in Kamrej, Surat, you can create a powerful brand identity that resonates with your audience, builds trust, and drives long-term success.

Whether you’re a startup looking to make a mark or an established business aiming to reinvent your image, choosing the right branding partner can make all the difference. Take the time to evaluate your options and collaborate with experts who understand the unique dynamics of the Kamrej, Surat market.

With the right support, your brand can achieve new heights and become a recognized name in your industry.

[signarama-truganina]

How Signage Drives Small Business Success: Transforming Visibility and Impact

How Signage Drives Small Business Success: Transforming Visibility and Impact

In today’s competitive business landscape, small businesses face the challenge of standing out and attracting customers in an increasingly crowded marketplace. For many, effective signage has been a game-changer, transforming visibility and elevating their brand presence. As trusted sign writers in Melbourne, Signarama Truganina has witnessed firsthand how strategic signage can drive significant results for small businesses.

Here’s how the right signage can contribute to small business success and why it’s a critical investment for growth.

1. Enhancing Brand Visibility

Signage is your business’s visual handshake with the world. It works as a 24/7 advertisement, ensuring your brand remains visible even outside of operating hours. A well-designed and strategically placed sign can attract foot traffic and make your business memorable. For small businesses in Melbourne, where competition is fierce, eye-catching signage can set you apart from the crowd and bring in new customers.

2. Building Brand Identity

Your signage speaks volumes about your business. Colors, fonts, and design elements help convey your brand’s personality and values. For example:

Playful fonts and vibrant colors work well for a family-friendly café.

Minimalist, sleek designs resonate with tech startups or modern retail stores.

Consistent branding across all signage helps small businesses create a cohesive and professional image that resonates with customers and builds trust.

3. Driving Foot Traffic

Strategically placed signage, such as banners, window decals, or outdoor signs, can grab the attention of passersby and encourage them to step inside. In Melbourne’s bustling streets, businesses with compelling signage are more likely to capture the interest of potential customers, turning casual onlookers into loyal patrons.

4. Cost-Effective Marketing

Unlike digital ads or print media campaigns, signage is a one-time investment that delivers long-term value. High-quality signs last for years, providing continuous exposure without recurring costs. The cost-per-impression for signage is often lower than many other advertising mediums, making it an affordable and effective marketing strategy for small businesses.

5. Enhancing Customer Experience

Clear and informative signage helps customers navigate your space effortlessly. Directional signs, menu boards, and promotional displays improve the overall shopping experience, increasing the likelihood of repeat business. Small touches, like a welcoming storefront sign or a creative window display, can leave a lasting impression.

Success Stories: Small Businesses That Transformed with Signage

Several small businesses have seen incredible growth by investing in the right signage. For example:

A local boutique in Melbourne reported a 30% increase in foot traffic after installing vibrant window decals showcasing their seasonal collection.

A small café used digital menu boards to highlight specials, resulting in a significant boost in daily sales.

These examples highlight how impactful well-designed signage can be.

Why Work with Professional Sign Writers in Melbourne?

Creating effective signage requires expertise in design, materials, and placement. At Signarama Truganina, we specialize in crafting custom solutions tailored to your business needs. Our team works with small businesses across Melbourne to create signage that drives visibility, builds brand identity, and supports growth.

Conclusion

For small businesses, signage isn’t just a marketing tool—it’s a powerful asset that drives success. From increasing visibility to enhancing customer experiences, the right signs can make a significant difference in how your business is perceived and remembered.

If you’re ready to transform your small business through impactful signage, reach out to Signarama Truganina today. Visit www.signarama.com.au/store/truganina to explore our services or call 1300 459 117 to get started.

Invest in signage that delivers success—your next customer could be just a sign away!

[zignprintsg]

Make a Lasting Impression: Event Backdrop Printing in Singapore with Zignprint

Creating the perfect backdrop can completely transform an event. Imagine a corporate gathering illuminated by a vibrant, custom backdrop that not only enhances the ambiance but also communicates the brand’s message. Zignprint excels in backdrop printing, offering innovative solutions that make events stand out. A compelling backdrop plays a crucial role in brand visibility and event success.

Elevate Your Events with Stunning Stage Backdrops

The Power of Visual Storytelling

Backdrops do more than beautify a space; they convey messages and set the mood. Studies show that engaging visuals can capture 94% of attendees’ interest and enhance their overall experience. An impressive backdrop encourages networking, creates memories, and resonates with the audience long after the event concludes.

Choosing the Right Material

Zignprint offers a variety of materials for your backdrop, including:

Fabric: Lightweight and reusable, perfect for smooth, wrinkle-free displays.

Vinyl: Durable and ideal for outdoor events, offering vivid colors that attract attention.

Each material has its advantages, and the choice depends on the event type, budget, and desired aesthetic.

Design Considerations for Maximum Impact

Creating a standout backdrop requires careful thought.

Color Palette: Use colors that align with your brand and evoke the right emotions.

Typography: Select fonts that are clear and reflect the event’s tone.

Imagery: Include high-resolution images that relate to the event’s theme, ensuring they are not too cluttered.

A well-designed backdrop can significantly boost engagement and leave a lasting impression.

Zignprint: Your Premier Event Backdrop Printing Partner in Singapore

Years of Experience and Expertise

Zignprint has established a strong presence in Singapore’s backdrop printing industry. With years of experience, they understand the nuances that make each event unique.

State-of-the-Art Printing Technology

Zignprint utilizes advanced printing technology to deliver high-quality prints with quick turnarounds. Their efficient processes ensure consistent results that meet client expectations. Customers can trust Zignprint’s capability to bring their vision to life.

Commitment to Customer Satisfaction

Customer feedback highlights Zignprint’s dedication to quality and service. Clients appreciate the attention to detail in every project, leading to numerous repeat customers.

A Wide Range of Backdrop Options to Suit Your Needs

Custom-Designed Backdrops

Need something unique? Zignprint specializes in bespoke designs tailored to meet the specific requirements of any event.

Pre-designed Templates for Quick Turnarounds

For those on a tight schedule, Zignprint offers a selection of pre-designed templates. These can be customized quickly, ensuring a speedy design process.

Various Sizes and Formats

Zignprint provides numerous options, including:

Retractable banners: Easy to set up and transport.

Step and repeat banners: Perfect for photos, showcasing sponsors or key visual elements.

No matter the event’s scale, there’s a backdrop solution available.

Seamless Event Backdrop Installation and Support

Professional Installation Services

Zignprint’s experienced team takes care of the installation, ensuring a polished look. Their services save clients time and provide peace of mind during the event.

On-site Support and Troubleshooting

Should any issues arise during installation, Zignprint offers on-site support to manage unexpected challenges. Their team is ready to troubleshoot problems, ensuring everything runs smoothly.

Timely Delivery and Project Management

Zignprint prioritizes deadlines. Their project management ensures you receive updates throughout the process, maintaining transparency and reliability.

Get Your Perfect Event Backdrop with Zignprint Today

Step-by-Step Guide to Ordering

Ordering a backdrop is easy:

Design Consultation: Discuss your vision with Zignprint’s experts.

Custom Design: Collaborate to finalize the design.

Final Delivery: Receive your backdrop on time, ready for installation.

Contact Information and Call to Action

Ready to create an unforgettable event? Contact Zignprint at Zignprint Backdrop to discuss your needs.

Pricing and Packages

While pricing depends on customization, Zignprint offers various packages to fit different budgets. For specific quotes, reach out directly.

Conclusion

Choosing Zignprint for your backdrop printing ensures a professional touch that enhances your event. With a commitment to quality, a wide array of options, and expert support, they are the go-to choice in Singapore. Transform your event with a standout backdrop that leaves a lasting impression. Contact Zignprint today and elevate your event experience!

[binickimaging]

Step and Repeat in Miami | Binick Imaging

Binick Imaging provides premium step and repeat banners in Miami, ideal for branding at events, photoshoots, and red carpets. Their high-quality printing ensures logos and designs look sharp and professional.

[stevenross0]

Enhancing Your Retail Space with Stylish Retractable Banner Stands

In the world of retail, first impressions are everything. Your store’s layout, product displays, and even the overall ambiance can influence a customer's decision to enter or leave. One of the most effective yet often overlooked tools for enhancing retail spaces is the stylish retractable banner stand. These versatile marketing tools not only grab attention but also convey key messages about your brand, products, and promotions. In this article, we’ll explore how you can leverage retractable banner stands to elevate your retail environment, attract more customers, and boost sales.

What Are Retractable Banner ?

Retractable banner stands are portable display systems that feature a printed graphic that can be pulled up from a base and retracted back down when not in use. They are designed for ease of transport, setup, and storage, making them ideal for both temporary and permanent displays. Typically lightweight and compact, these stands are made from durable materials, ensuring longevity and repeated use.

Versatility in Design

One of the standout features of retractable banner stands is their versatility. Retailers can customize the graphics, colors, and messages to align with specific campaigns or seasonal promotions. Whether you’re launching a new product, announcing a special sale, or simply enhancing your brand visibility, retractable stands can be tailored to fit your needs.

Imagine walking into a clothing store adorned with vibrant banners highlighting the latest trends or a tech store showcasing its newest gadgets. These visually appealing graphics can not only capture attention but also guide customers through the shopping experience.

Benefits of Using Retractable Stands

1. Cost-Effectiveness

In retail, every marketing dollar counts. Retractable banner stands are a cost-effective solution for promoting products or services. Unlike traditional advertising, which can be expensive and often temporary, these stands provide a lasting impact without breaking the bank. Their durability means they can be used repeatedly for various campaigns, offering excellent return on investment.

2. Ease of Use

Setting up a retail display can often be a daunting task. However, retractable banner are designed for convenience. With a straightforward assembly process, even those with minimal technical skills can have a professional-looking display ready in minutes. This ease of use allows retail staff to focus on customer service rather than complicated setup procedures.

3. Space Efficiency

In a bustling retail environment, space is often at a premium. banner stands are compact and easily stored when not in use, freeing up valuable floor space. Their vertical design takes up minimal real estate while maximizing visual impact, making them ideal for smaller stores or crowded areas.

4. Portability

Retailers often participate in trade shows, community events, and pop-up shops. Retractable banner are highly portable, making them the perfect solution for on-the-go marketing. Easily transported in a carrying case, these stands can be set up almost anywhere, allowing you to take your brand beyond the confines of your retail space.

5. Eye-Catching Designs

The most effective advertising grabs attention, and retractable banner stands are masters at this. With high-quality graphics, vibrant colors, and compelling messages, these stands can draw in customers from a distance. An attractive display can intrigue passersby, encouraging them to step inside and explore.

Tips for Designing Effective Banner Stands

To maximize the impact of your retractable banner stands, consider the following design tips:

1. Keep It Simple

Less is often more. Avoid cluttering your banner with too much text or overly complicated graphics. Focus on a single message or theme that resonates with your audience. A clear, concise call to action can drive customers to take the next step.

2. Use High-Quality Images

Visuals are critical in retail. Invest in high-quality images that reflect your brand and the products you offer. A stunning image can evoke emotions and entice customers to learn more about what you have to offer.

3. Choose Contrasting Colors

Colors play a significant role in design. Use contrasting colors to ensure your text stands out against the background. This will help capture attention quickly and make your message easy to read from a distance.

4. Brand Consistency

Make sure your retractable banner reflect your brand’s identity. Use your brand colors, logos, and fonts to create a cohesive look that reinforces your brand presence. Consistency in branding helps build recognition and trust with customers.

5. Update Regularly

To keep your displays fresh and engaging, consider updating your  banner stands regularly. This could align with seasonal promotions, new product launches, or changes in your brand messaging. Regular updates keep your store dynamic and interesting, encouraging repeat visits from customers.

Where to Position Your Retractable Stands

The effectiveness of retractable banner stands is not just about design; placement is equally important. Here are some strategic locations to consider:

1. Entrance Areas

Placing a retractable banner stand at the entrance of your store can immediately catch the eye of potential customers. Use this space to highlight a special promotion or introduce your brand.

2. High-Traffic Areas

Identify high-traffic areas within your store where customers tend to linger. Placing a banner in these zones can promote a specific product or event, guiding customers toward making a purchase.

3. Near Checkout Stations

The checkout area is a prime spot for upselling. Positioning a retractable banner stand near the register can encourage customers to consider last-minute purchases, whether it’s a seasonal item, accessories, or complementary products.

4. At Events and Trade Shows

If your retail brand participates in events, r banner stands can enhance your presence. They can be used to showcase your brand story, highlight product features, or provide information about your services.

Conclusion

In an ever-evolving retail landscape, standing out is crucial. Stylish retractable banner offer a unique and effective way to enhance your retail space. With their versatility, cost-effectiveness, and eye-catching designs, they can significantly boost your brand visibility and attract more customers. By keeping your displays fresh and strategically placed, you can create an engaging shopping experience that drives sales and fosters customer loyalty.

So, if you're looking to elevate your retail environment, consider integrating retractable banner stands into your marketing strategy. With the right design and placement, you’ll be well on your way to transforming your space and captivating your audience.

[fabvisuals-blog]

Top NYC Banner Printing: Fast & Affordable

Find excellent banner printing services in NYC that offer price, quality, and speed. NYC printers provide quick turnaround times without sacrificing quality, whether you're looking for robust banner stands, colorful vinyl banners, or unique step-and-repeat banners. These services guarantee that your banners are made to leave a lasting impression, making them ideal for events, promotions, and corporate advertising. Use affordable alternatives that consistently produce expert outcomes to get your message seen. Discover the ease of dependable, quick banner printing right in the middle of NYC!