#wooden animal stools

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Baking

Hardersson x Toddler!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You make farm cookies

"No! No! Wait-"

You giggle, smashing your hand into the bowl of baking ingredients.

The flour puffs up into a cloud of white at the impact and the eggs squelch under your hand.

You laugh hysterically, a wide smile splitting your face open.

Magda had only turned around for a second to grab your sippy cup but you'd already taken control of the bowl, rubbing your hand all over the ingredients, delighting in the way that it felt under your little fingers.

Magda sighs, grabbing some kitchen towel and wiping the muck off your hand.

Only to forget that you have another hand to do the exact same with.

"No-"

You don't listen, slamming your second hand into the mixture and more vigorously moving it around.

"Why don't you listen to me?" Magda laments as she plucks you from your kitchen stool and makes her way towards the sink. She tickles your tummy. "What is it about me, huh? You listen to Momma."

"Momma!" You cheer, head whipping around to look at the door like Pernille's about to walk through it.

"She's at a match right now, princesse," Magda reminds you," Which is why we're here making her cookies to come home to. Remember? Cookies for Momma?"

"Cookie!" You repeat as Magda washes your hands clean of any remaining mixture.

"Yes, that's right. Chocolate chip cookies for Momma." She snags your sippy cup, pressing it to your lips until you take it yourself and start drinking.

"Cookie," You say, nodding and Magda returns you to your stool.

She hands you a spoon.

"And now we mix," She says.

You slam the spoon into the bowl and hit it aggressively against the sides.

"Gently," Magda reminds you, standing behind your stool and wrapping her hand around yours to guide your movements," We're making these with love, remember?"

"Love! Love for Momma!"

"That's right! Love for Momma."

Getting you to be gentle is easy enough with Magda helping you and you seem delighted by the cookie cutters Magda has bought for just this moment.

"And this is a duck!" She explains to you, holding the cutter up for you to see," And what do ducks say? Do you know?"

You do know.

Momma read you a duck book yesterday.

"Quack! Duck say quack! Quack! Quack!"

"Very good," Magda praises you warmly," Now, do we want to give Momma a duck cookie?"

You cut out a duck cookie.

"And this one is a sheep. What do sheep say?"

"Sheep go baa! Baa! Baa!"

Cutting out all the cookies takes a while because this pack of cutters contain almost every farm animal Magda can think of and she's adamant about you learning what each one is and how they sound.

You both got a little stuck on what the alpaca sounds like so a quick Google search later, you were both grunting and humming and growling at each other while Magda put the cookies in the oven.

Pernille returns home on a high, two goals and an assist and a win for Wolfsburg.

"Something smells nice!" She calls as she enters the house, hanging up her coat and placing her shoes so they're lined up between Magda's and yours.

You come skidding towards her, a little slippy in your elephant socks on the wooden floor.

"Momma!" You cheer, hugging her legs tightly and kissing every inch of her you can manage.

"My Princesse," Pernille coos, raising you up into her arms," Did you have fun today?"

Usually, Pernille would take you to the game to watch but you had been a little bit tired when you woke up this morning so Magda had offered to forego the game entirely to watch you.

"Cookies!" You answer, smacking big wet kisses on Pernille's cheek," Cookies for Momma! With love!"

"You made cookies for me?" Pernille asks," With love?"

You nod.

"Made with lots of love," Magda says, coming into view with a plate of warm cookies," Princesse did all the work herself."

"All the work?"

"Well, I helped a little."

"Is a duck cookie!" You say, plucking it from the plate," Duck goes quack! Quack! Quack!"

"Oh, wow," Pernille says," You're right! Ducks do go quack!"

"Duck, quack! Sheep, baa! Cow, moo!"

"Did you make farmyard cookies?" Pernille asks and you nod.

"Like farms! We go to farm?"

Pernille grins. "Well, let me eat up all these delicious cookies you made for me and then we'll have a look at going to a farm together."

[sleepynoons]

jing yuan x f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: nudity, suggestive content

notes: pls lmk if i'm missing any tags or warnings. anyway, nothing explicit this time, experimenting more w/ pieces that heavily focus on sexual tension + build-up. anyway x2, not sure how to describe the setting of this piece. still uses some hrs concepts like aeons. jing yuan is rich, the reader is his maid, and both use more formal language. this was a fun exercise!

THERE ARE a lot of rumors surrounding your master. you hear them when you go grocery shopping, visit the tailor, pick up the dry cleaning, drop off lunches at the front desk on days that he’s busy. some of them are about you – who are you? his wife? mistress? there’s no way you’re just a friend, right?

you’re trained to maintain a stoic facade, but inside, you can’t help but be entertained. you are none of those things, and one can only dream of sharing such a bond with him. you’re content with simply being his maid – you mustn’t tread closer.

on a wooden tray, you neatly arrange a cup of chamomile tea, another cup of warm, honeyed milk, and a folded newspaper of today’s news. before you leave the kitchen, though, you make sure to drop a few treats into a feeding bowl and rub at mimi’s stomach, your master’s beloved dog.

“your father needs some time alone,” you say to the animal. seemingly able to understand your words, mimi’s ears droop at a slight angle and she licks at your fingertips, seeking consolation. “he’ll be out soon, i promise.”

you get back up, wash your hands, and pick up the tray, heading over to your master’s bathroom.

from the hallway, you can hear the sound of water splashing and sloshing. if you strain a bit more, you can arguably make out some humming, nonsensical and haphazard in melody. when you reach the door, you hear submerging, and you know you’re right on time.

you knock on the door twice. “master, may i come in?”

you hear a faint noise of affirmation, no doubt muffled by the wall, and carefully enter without spilling the contents of the tray.

you’re greeted with a dazzling smile and glimmering droplets of soap and water slipping down naked skin.

your master greets you, fine smile lines outlining his rosy lips and delicate nose. “how many times have i told you that just my name will suffice?”

“master jing yuan,” you say as you place his drinks and paper on a designated drawer beside the tub, “how many times have i told you that you shouldn’t ask me to join you when you’re in the bathroom?”

“but who else can help me with my unruly mane of silver?” he pouts, tone feigning innocence.

“your hair isn’t unruly.”

“did you not call it that last time?”

you click your tongue. your master chuckles and turns away from you to face the other end of the tub. you grab a stool, hand him his newspaper, and take your place behind him. with a brush in hand, you unravel the red ribbon tying his hair and, with quick, gentle strokes, run the brush through the thick layers. you didn’t mean to call his hair unruly before, but you think there’s quite a bit of truth to it anyway. you also note that his hair has gotten quite long.

“master jing yuan, perhaps it’s time for a trim?” you suggest.

your master hums and leans back so that your hands can reach the crown of his head. “you are right. i shall leave it to you, then?”

shaking your head, you respond, “you really ought to get it done at a professional salon. i can only do so much.”

“you are a woman of many talents. i am sure you will do just fine,” he reassures. you huff in protest.

as your master’s only taking a soak today, you plait his hair into a thick braid before tying it up into a bun. you hand him his cup of tea, which is no longer scalding, and stand up to leave.

“oh!” he suddenly exclaims. “i seem to have forgotten my bathrobe.” he looks up at you expectantly, and you nod in understanding.

“i’ll go grab it. i’ll be right back.” you bow quickly before closing the door behind you on the way out and heading towards the laundry room.

you take your time. really, you needed an excuse to leave the bathroom. you’re glad that your master’s such a big fan of bath bombs, or else you’d see everything… you pat harshly at your warm cheeks to break free from your reverie. don’t tread any closer. you’re behaving like a schoolgirl experiencing her first love, and you can only groan internally at yourself. but you can’t blame yourself either – anyone would fall in love with your master if they know him the way you do. he’s so irresistible, and having been his maid for so long has only enabled you to witness more of his charisma and charm. you sigh, sitting on the floor in front of the dryer as you wait for it to de-wrinkle your master’s robe.

you return ten minutes later, both for your own wellbeing and to also give your master some time to himself.

“master jing yuan, i’m back. may i come in?”

instead of a reply, though, the door cracks open, and your master, wearing nothing but a towel tied loosely around his hips, appears before you. you yelp and rush to cover your eyes. he simply laughs at your antics before grabbing you by the arm and leading you into the bathroom.

“what – what are you –“

“i hurt my arm today, so i will need your help putting my robe on. it is quite heavy, after all.”

you don’t know where to look. you certainly can’t look at the bathroom mirror that covers the top-half of one wall or the marble on the other that shines and reflects so clearly. you opt to close your eyes and hold the robe up by the collar.

“this is hardly appropriate,” you mutter, embarrassment and nervousness coloring your tone. as a result, you try to distract yourself with another subject. “besides, couldn’t you have told me earlier? i would’ve prepared something in advance had i known.”

“i just noticed the bruise as well. seems i was a little careless today.” he then chuckles – at himself or you, you’re not sure.

you remark, “you? careless? that hardly goes together.”

your master lets you know that he’s put on his sleeves, so you step away, eyes still closed. 

immediately, he hums with obvious disapproval. “hm? why are you backing away?”

you sputter, “m-master jing yuan, i should not be here! if you could just – i don’t know – turn around or something, i can –“

“i have turned around.”

you sigh in relief, happy that he’s obedient for once. your master is often relentless in his teasing and tricks, and you’re grateful that he’s granting you mercy in this moment. so you open your eyes, ready to find your way to the door –

your master is standing dangerously close, so that you’re eye-to-eye with him. from this view, you can also see that his chest is barely covered, knot slowly slipping undone.

“master!” you gasp. the proximity, the surprise, the challenging look in his eyes – they’re all driving you mad.

he clears his throat. “jing yuan.”

“master jing yuan.”

“jing yuan.”

“oh, for aeons’ sake, jing yuan! you’re not wearing your robe properly!”

jing yuan gloats. he then says in a low, low whisper, “my hands have cramped up. can you do it for me instead?” he speaks directly into your ears, and you want to scream.

shaking, you stretch out your trembling hands and take the ends of the belt. you can feel jing yuan’s hot breaths fanning your cheek, and you can even smell the faint trace of lavender from the bath bomb. your fingers are too clumsy, though, and you fail multiple times in properly tying the belt. after a few more fruitless attempts, jing yuan reaches down, softly grabbing your hands, and gently guides them.

“and… like this,” he breathes. even when you’ve secured the knot, though, he doesn’t let go.

don’t tread any closer. “j-jing yuan,” you whimper. “please…”

his hands inch up, gliding from your palms to your forearms to your elbows. he does it so slowly, so seductively, so intentionally. he tugs you impossibly a little closer, and now you can feel the heat of his chest through your uniform. then, jing yuan rests his head on your shoulders, and his lips ghost the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to shiver and shudder at the sensation. the two of you just stand there, him taking deep breaths, you holding yours.

finally, after a few minutes, jing yuan breaks the silence. “i can no longer employ you, my dearest.”

you feel faint. you’re never escaping the gossip now.

[neosimi]

🪑 4t2 kkb's my cherish things ☕

hi everyone, happy wednesday! as promised, here is kkb's my cherish things set converted for ts2. i thought i was more finished than i truly was, there ended up being lots of little fixes. anyway, i was finally able to complete it over the holiday break! i do apologize for being fairly absent the past few months, i hope to get back into the sims again. that is if my game will stop crashing but we all know how that story goes- as always, please lmk if you run into any issues. enjoy!~⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

addt'l photos + object list under the cut. files are compressed.

update 2/24/2024: fixed sink cutout, no longer linked to veranka's vanadium sink. download the file separately here.

download: [sfs] | [box] ♡

credits: @kkbsmm, veranka's vanadium sink as a base.

OBJECT LIST:

Cushion Chair

Induction Burner

Iron Basket -> Pastel Teacup + Powder Case Repo'd

Kitchen Towel

Pastel Fridge [Functional + Animated]

Pot Hanger -> Bread Box, Drink Box, + Cushion Stool Repo'd

Ribbon Kettle -> Ribbon Bowl, Low Pot, Pan w Handle, Pasta Pot, Stew Pot, + Teacup Repo'd

Kitchen Sink [Functional]

Tablecloth Table -> Wooden Chair Repo'd

Three-Tier Lunch Box -> Two-Tier Lunch Box Repo'd

Two-Tier Dish Dryer

note: there is no dirty state, i cloned from veranka's which didn't include one. also, i didn't include the cupboard, idk i guess i spaced it out sry!

[simdertalia]

🍓ᛉ ACNH Nordic Set ᛟ🍓

💗 Sims 4, Base game compatible/ Steam animation requires Cats & Dogs. 43 items

This set is brought about by the lovely patrons who voted 💗

Early Access

Will be public on September 30th, 2024 💗 Midnight CET

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my CC is early access. If you like my work, please consider supporting me (all support helps me with managing my chronic pain/illness & things have been rough as of late):

★ Patreon  🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi  ☕️  ❤️ ★ Instagram📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz  @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters  @coffee-cc-finds  @itsjessicaccfinds  @gamommypeach  @stargazer-sims-finds  @khelga68  @suricringe  @vaporwavesims  @mystictrance15 @moonglitchccfinds @xlost-in-wonderlandx @jbthedisabledvet

-Wooden Stool-Dala Horse-Lavender in Vase-Small Wall Frames-Wall Painting-Backsplash -Rug is EA from Cats & Dogs

The rest of my CC

[felassan]

Thoughts on the new images of the Lighthouse Part 2. DA:TV spoilers under cut.

[Link to Part 1]

I ran out of image allowance on the first post so I'm putting the rest here in this post.

I think maybe this is Davrin's room. on the righthand side, there are floor-to-ceiling windows (one part of them even has curtains) or even the whole wall cut away - this would be perfect for allowing Assan to fly out and fly in as he came and went. ^^ Corinne Busche said this about Davrin's room:

"When you see Davrin’s room, you’d certainly assume he’d be up watching the sunrise with that view. If only it weren’t in the fade"

with windows so big or a wall cutaway, you can see why Davrin's room is said to have an amazing view like this. :D

On the right hand side of the room is lots of things you'd need if you were into wood-carving/whittling, which is implied for Davrin by what he's doing in the Lighthouse group shot: stool, workbench/table with shelf space beneath, tools, a log of wood on the bench, what looks like a saw, piles of more logs, an axe to chop them with, a stump to split them on. on the workbench are some of his finished projects: a carved nug, a carved dragon, and there are other wooden carvings he's made elsewhere in the room. on the floor nearby it's scattered with I guess wood shavings/bits of broken wood from chopping wood.

Some more carvings Davrin has made - he makes so many :) here we have nugs and an adorable bear design. sidequest to help Davrin open an Etsy store.

Another standout thing about Davrin's room is all the monster stuff. of course, he's a monster hunter. Over the fireplace is the skull of a large creature. fixed to or hung from the ceiling are the bones that make up a large creature's spine (they remind me of dinosaur bones in museums). left of his armchair near a curtain is another big skull on the wall. there's a collection of horns hung from the ceiling and more smaller skulls on the wall behind that. other items along the monster-hunter theme are bits of bone(?) or horn(?) or something on his desk, annotated anatomical illustrations of different types of creatures (which ties into how he sees it as a specific skillset to hone, how he learns monsters' weaknesses to be able to exploit them etc), and the various glass containers - some of these look to contain monster parts (specimens or trophies?). Witcher vibes!

Nug diagram and a horn-like or tentacle-y specimen in the green jar.

Assan has been scratching the back of Davrin's chair like a cat hhh. can we gift them a griffon-sized scratching post pls? and next to Davrin's comfy chair by the fire is a rug or sheepskin kinda thing of some sort on the ground - for Assan to lie on when Davrin sits in the chair? ^^ how lovely. it looks like there's also a stick, bone or chew for him on the ground near that. maybe that's Davrin's outside coat draped over the top of the chair. and btew is the nug to the right of the fireplace a carved wood nug statue or a stuffed dead nug hh?

Halla statue? ^^

Right: Another halla statue? Center: Another? Left: Animal diagram with drawings of could be a halla (top) and a set of halla horns (the biggest horns in the center).

There's a halla statue in Bellara's room and one in Taash's room too, but if these things in Davrin's are all hallas, that's a lot of halla things in one. Coincidence, monster-hunting related (as they're animals), Dalish-related, or Ghil-related? it's been wondered if Davrin's vallaslin correspond to Ghilan'nain (which would add a layer to the story of 1. an elf encounters not just one of their gods but the one whose vallaslin theirs corresponds to, 2. a monster-hunter, as she's mother of monsters, and 3. a Grey Warden monster-hunter who just may have been killing the mutated darkspawn and mutated monsters emerging from Ghil's monster-pools lately).

I wonder if the silver chalices around the room are meant to evoke the Joining cup?

What are these green things at the window?

Davrin's room has some empty shelves. I noticed some empty shelves in Emmrich's room too. I'm assuming this is where companions will display the personalized gifts we can get to give them, like was mentioned in the second dev Q&A:

Corinne Busche: "Out in the world, and there in various locations, so you kinda stumble upon them, you can buy a gift that is very personal to any one of the companions, and then you go, you turn that into them, you give it to them, they have a nice acknowledgement. And then, the thing that’s just like so sweet about it, we’ve talked about how the companion rooms evolve over time, but if you go and get them one of these, like, very personalized gifts, they’ll display it in their room. Like it doesn’t go into some stats void. It’s actually on display."

(if so, I'm assuming there's such a place in each room not just their two ones; just, those places may be out of frame due to angle in the other images).

Outside of the room you can see more ruined ancient elven Fadey architecture.

Process of elimination leaves this as Lucanis' room. Lucanis?? 😭😭 in what looks like the kitchen storage room?? if you need a snack in the middle of the night do you either wake Lucanis up when you sneak in (he'd hear you with his senses) or encounter him still up because he can't sleep well that night in the corner with his demonic aura?

it's dark - check, dude who "hides in the dark". he doesn't appear to have many belongings or personal effects - check, dude who is practical and pragmatic. he's a lot less ostentatious than Illario.

there's food everywhere, including fresh produce and a returning Dragon Age classic, giant cheese wheels. :') likely there is more food in the sacks, baskets, crates/boxes and pots. sleeping here reminds me of what was said about Lucanis being one of the team cooks in the second dev Q&A:

John Epler: "Bellara and Lucanis actually end up being, essentially, the team cooks. Bellara, you know, spending a lot of time out in nature, learning a lot about, you know, different types of cooking, is really big on experimentation, she likes to, you know, try different things. Lucanis comes from the Crows, Lucanis is very big on the finer things, so between the two of them, there’s a point in the story where they basically decide, if we don’t do this, the entire team is going to starve, so let’s just call ourselves the cook, cooks, and make sure that nobody dies of food poisoning, so."

I wonder if the chests contain food, other supplies or Lucanis' belongings.

Another one of these things. There's one in Neve's room and Bellara's too. maybe there's one in each companion room and the other screenshots were just taken from an angle where they can't be seen? again I'm so curious what these are for (or maybe they're just decor).

[Link to Part 1]

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Baby Addams.

Pairing: MaleWednesday x reader.

Warning: Mention of kidnapping, Mention of forced marriage, pregnancy, Yandere Male Wednesday. Gomez and Morticia from 1991. (poor transition Spanish and Italian) If you speak any of these languages feel free to correct me nicely thank you.

Summary: You were Wednesday's wife, with a baby on the way. (sorry summary sucks)

A/n: This is inspired by the story Yandere male Wednesday , by @teresalace I asked her permission so yea. Check out the story.

Three years, since you met Wednesday, Three years, since he took you away from everything you knew, Three years since you were married into the Addams family, and finally Wednesday had got what he wanted like he always did. You were pregnant, carrying a new addition to your husband's family. Gomez and Morticia were overjoyed about the news.

It was a dim, gloomy morning, and the massive black blanket lay on your growing stomach "Mi alma, wake up." a monotone voice whispered in your ear as you slowly opened your eyes, his plump lips kissed your shoulder, tracing down your arm to your wedding ring, sweet nothing whisper in Italian in Wednesday's normal deadpan voice before he sighed "My parents are coming." As he getting out of the king bed.

You sighed and sat up as best as you can with a six-month baby bump, the room was dark in aesthetic and semi-normal, with hints of white and a little red amongst the black. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the large custom guillotine that hung above the bed, which luckily was unable to move, You had to convince and seduce Wednesday for that to happen.

Getting up from bed was somewhat difficult, but you managed to waddle to your shared walking closet, black and bright, warm colors were separated down the middle of the metal bar. You quickly showered and threw on a blue maternity dress, earrings to match, and a necklace. The walk downstairs was a little hard even when Wednesday helped, your home was gothic victorian style like your in-laws but less big. Swords, old timely guns, and torture devices littered the walls as while as mirrors, the rugs were dead animals. The furniture was you guessed black and white with red, and some armor and statues stood around the living room.

You both headed to the kitchen; It was a modern kitchen that your husband allowed you to decorate, the only rule? It had to be in his aesthetic which you took. Wednesday leads you to the kitchen island and helped you onto the dark wooden counter stool "Good morning Wednesday" you smiled at him tiredly ready to break the silence "Yes, it is quite a bad morning today." he hummed and sat a glass of water down in front of you and began to make you breakfast. Despite being tricked into this marriage, he was a good husband, dare you say the best; yes, he's..well, him, he never made you feel unloved and was surprisingly romantic. The apple didn't fall that far from the tree, though he wasn't over-expressive with his displays of affection. A loud shriek rang out, making you jump. "I hate that doorbell," you whispered as you took a bit of your breakfast that he put down. "I will get it, Mi Alma" he walked out of the kitchen to the front door, Wednesday inhaled, and opened the door. His dad held a brown box, and his mother smiled at him. "Our boy." She cooed, opening her arms in a grand gesture "Mother, Father. It is a displeasure to see you." Wednesday acknowledged looking boredly between his parents, then sharply turned and walked back to the kitchen; Gomez and Morticia headed to the living room, the door eerily closing behind them.

You swallowed the last bit of food when Wednesday walked in "Come." he offered his arm, you locked your arm his and hopped off the stool.

"There's the woman who stole our son's black, dead heart and hunts his every tortured thought!" Gomez exclaimed loudly as you walked into the living room, earning a threatening "Father." from Wednesday which Gomez ignored. "Hello dear." Morticia gracefully walked to you, almost appearing to be floating "How far along now?" She asked, smiling at you. "Six mouths." You smiled back "We wanted to give you this." She looked back at Gomez, who held up the box. "Shell, we look through it together?" She asked pulling you away from Wednesday and to the floor where Gomez sat the box. Morticia opened it and took out stuff one by one "Here's Wednesday Teddy when he was just a little boy." She cooed and passed you a black teddy with stitches, the head ripped off "Cute.." you grimace, sitting it beside you. She pulled out kid-sized knives and swords. "Oh, this was his favorite toy!" She pulls out a toy guillotine, big enough to chop off a finger or a Barbie's head. 'So the obsession started during childhood. great.' you stared at it hopelessly.

"Son." Gomez touched Wednesday's shoulder, both of them watching their wives interact with each other, one with joy and the other hiding her disdain poorly. Gomez only got a side-eye look from his son, letting his father know he was listening, eyes back onto you "Let's talk." Gomez pat Wednesday's back and walked across the living to the hallway. Wednesday huffed and walked out.

"What do you so desperately need to talk about?" Wednesday stared his father down, wanting to be back within your essence "Son..are you sure she's the one for you? She doesn't scream...Addams material." "Are you saying you disapprove of her?" "Not exactly-" "Because if you are," Wednesday took a step closer to the older Addams "You will never see me or my children. She is my every soul, she cut open my heart and made me bleed for her. I would walk through heaven and back to please her. I would kill for her," his eyes narrowed "Even if it means you." a pregnant silence fell upon the two. If it was a cartoon you would be able to see a row of dots typing above their heads. Gomez grinned and shook his son back and forth. "You have truly found your own Morticia!" he laughed, swung his arm around the tensed Wednesday, and walked back into the room.

You yawned as you laid back into the bed; your in-laws stayed until the dark of the night arrived. Though weird, they were a joy to be around; the love they shared, you had wished for since you were little. You had gotten it from a man who rarely showed emotion, but love doesn't have to be over the top; love could be quiet yet meaningful and coming from someone like your husband. It was more special.

"Are you ready Mi alma?" Wednesday asked, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head; you tiredly nodded as the lights of the room were turned off by themselves; in the stillness of the dark and at the edge of sleep, you whispered a "Te amo." Wednesday allows his lips to curl upward just a bit in the safety of the night "Ti Amo"

Transition

Mi alma.

My soul.

Te amo.

I love you.

Ti amo.

I love you in Italian.

[calypso707]

Can I request a Druid tav x Astarion? Where over time and a ton of talks about it Astarion allows tav to try different ways to flatten his scars on his back? Different lotions/creams and massages? Not necessarily making them disappear but flattening them enough so their not as raised and angry.

That’s a good one, i hope you'll like it, it was a bit more challenging but I enjoyed writing it. I've done it differently, though. I preferred to write the first time they treat his scars. Please don't hesitate to send me feedback ! Enjoy ! (๑˘︶˘๑)

OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin.

Since you were a child, you had always imagined that you'd spend your life in the Circle, at the service of nature and protecting the balance. But recent events had completely turned your life upside down: your kidnapping by mind flayers, the crash of their nautiloid, the victory over the goblins… Not to mention the roommate you had in your skull. And these events, however improbable, had driven you to create the strangest alliances.

Your favorite time of day was when you returned to your camp in the Wilderness. You enjoyed the calm that settles all around you as soon as night fell, you liked to hear the wood creak under the fire, you loved to gaze up at the sky as if to interpret the messages left by the stars, you even caught yourself listening for the animals prowling nearby. Oak Father, you loved those quiet moments. You knelt at the edge of the shore, not far from your tent, your eyes closed and your breathing stilled to the rhythm of the waves undulating in the wind. You allowed your mind to wander, you were surrounded by strange companions and you had permitted your heart to fall in with the most unusual being of all.

Astarion.

A vampire.

If your Circle were to find out… For many, vampires were an abomination of nature, but for you, he was just a magistrate with immoral tendencies and a liking for blood. You did not know if the feeling was mutual, and you did not particularly want to find out. Astarion cherished his freedom and it was just as meaningful to you. He had spent much of his spawn life in the service of a cruel lord who had submitted him to all kinds of vices. You thought back to the inscriptions carved into the flesh of his back and how he must have suffered.

A throat-clearing sounded above you and you opened your eyes. Speaking of the devil.. You did not even hear him coming. Astarion was standing in front of you, looking… Unsure?

"I've been thinking about what you said. About my… Scars."

You stood up to face him properly, inviting him with a nod to continue.

"I would like you to treat them to make them less, well.. Noticeable," he added. "They do not, of course, affect my beauty, but if you could make them more pleasing to the eye, I would not say no."

You rolled your eyes at his words. The two of you had discussed this several times. You simply offered to help, you had no wish to erase them because they were part of him. You just wanted to make them less sensitive so you were waiting for him to give you permission. "All right, I will take care of it. Let's go to my tent, so we can have some privacy"

You gestured for him to follow you, which he surprisingly did without protesting. You entered the tent, which was large enough for just one person. On the right was your paillasse, surrounded by books of various subjects. On the left, a huge solid wood table held all your herbs, elixirs, ointments and recipes. You invited him to sit on a wooden stool beside you.

"Let me have a look"

Astarion seemed to hesitate for a moment and finally removed his shirt before tossing it onto your bed. He seemed almost… uncomfortable. Yet it was not the first time you had seen him half-naked. You stood behind him and slowly brought your fingers to his scarred skin.

"May I?"

"Yes," He replied in a breath, his unease was palpable. He seemed vulnerable.

You gently ran your fingers over his upper back, cautiously brushing his scars. You felt him flinch slightly at the warmth of your skin, which contrasted with the coldness of his. It was the first time you had seen them so closely. The Language of the Hells had been carved into his flesh two centuries ago, and you could still guess the pain he must have felt. According to him, it was a poem, a very strange poem. The cruelty of the act made your heart ache and your stomach twist. How could he have survived such pain?

"It was a surprise. As you can see, Cazador's surprises are never good ones," commented Astarion.

You looked up at the mirror in front of you, and although his reflection was not visible, you could see you touching his invisible skin as delicately as possible, his face was turned to the mirror, examining your every move. You detached yourself to search through your ointments and took one you had prepared earlier. It was a derivative of Silvanus' elixir, based on boiling theriac and mugwort bundle. Returning to stand behind him, you took a generous quantity of the mixture with your fingers before applying it delicately to the marks. Astarion twitched again, looking over his shoulder at you.

"I am sorry" You said.

"No, it is cold. But it feels… Nice"

You slowly knelt behind him and carefully applied the ointment, making sure his skin properly absorbed the treatment. The effect was almost instantaneous, and the scars seemed less vivid to the naked eye. It would take several applications for it to be fully effective. You ran your fingers along the long lines that ended at the lower part of his back and noticed that a shiver ran through his body. This moment was different from the others you had shared, even more intimate because he had allowed you to get closer to that part of his past he hated. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of you.

"Do you feel any difference?" you asked, looking up at him as he swiveled on the stool to face you. You wiped your fingers on a clean cloth.

"Hm.." He made a move as if trying to stretch his skin. He seemed a bit surprised. "I used to feel them, itching. I no longer feel that discomfort"

"It will require repeated application for it to be more effective, but it is a good start"

"Oh, are you offering me private sessions for massages?" questioned the vampire, a mischievous smile on his lips.

You smiled at his question and, as you stood up, he grabbed your arm to pull you towards him. He wrapped his right arm around your waist and his left hand slid down your forearm. This embrace took you by surprise, but you did not push him away, on the contrary. He took your hand in his and brought your fingers to his lips, softly. He half-opened his mouth as he slid your index and middle finger over his lower lip, revealing his fangs. A shiver of excitement ran through your body.

"It means a lot, you know, what you do for me. I will never forget it."

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to have a look at my other writings on Astarion ! Love ya !

Astarion x gn druid reader : On your skin (pt.2)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late part two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader. Fem!Reader x Conrad (whoever you picture)

Summary: part two of Too Late

Word count: 2,613

Warnings: angst. fluff. lies? Steve makes an appearance. 

Part 1

Masterlist

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~~~

For close to a year Conrad would visit Y/n in her little sanctuary that sat alone in the woodland area, for those months Y/n didn’t trust him of course she didn’t he was a member of Hydra, the bad guys who spend years and years destroying the goodness that was James Buchanan Barnes, destroyed and killed those that didn’t bow down to them and abide by their rules.

And while yes Conrad decided not to put a bullet in her head like she had asked for him to do, choosing to open her eyes to the betrayal, he chose to give her a second chance in life he was still the guy apart of a terrible organisation.

Even though she didn’t trust him she did have to admit that she appreciated his help, appreciated his company. Every time he visited he brought supplies and food for her, he even showed up once with a van that had a ray of different livestock in the back so she could start a little farm up like she had wanted to do.

Y/n tried, she really did try to not get too comfortable with Conrad but he was just so easy to talk to about everything and anything, she appreciated that he never once mentioned Steven and his betrayal with Natasha. She hated how funny he was, she hated how much she missed him when he left to go back to the monstrous organisation that was Hydra. Hated how he occupied her mind when he wasn’t there helping around the house fixing things and only accepting a nice cold glass of homemade lemonade from her.

She definitely hated how much he looked so attractive when he chopped fresh firewood for her.

She especially hated that.

It wasn’t fair, he was supposed to be the enemy yet he had treated her better in those few months than anyone had ever.

It had been exactly four months, three weeks and two days since Conrad had last been to visit and she hated it. Though she had the many animals to keep her company she had to admit she was kind of going a bit crazy.

Molly the cow would look at her like she was insane when Y/n would be perch upon on the wooden little stool that Conrad had made for her, talking to the cow as she milked her. Y/n swore that one time the black spotted animal rolled her eyes at the woman once.

Y/n walked into the pigpen fussing over the month old piglets that were the most precious little things she had ever laid eyes on. When her leg was knocked she looked down to see Grumpy, named perfectly for his grumpiness, she patted him on his head telling him to hold on for food, chuckling lightly when he snorted in response. The moment she finished putting the food in the trough she heard the unmistakable sound of a car coming up the gravelled driveway.

Nobody had ever come up to where she lived apart from…

“H-he’s back” she mumbled to herself before dropping the bucket with a clank and running out finding herself nearly tripping over her own foot when she had to turn back around to shut the gate of the pigpen.

Running to the front of the house she saw the same car Conrad always came in, her eyebrows pulled together when she saw two figures sitting in the front, as the car got closer her heart started beating faster as she noticed Conrad and another figure she had come to know because of Steve.

“Y/n-“ Conrad shouts as soon as he gets out of the driver side door “-god I’ve missed you” he jogs over to her and wraps his arms around her frame, pulling back when he notices she doesn’t hug him back but is staring at the other person who stands by the car. “I can explain everything I promise”

“It’s nice seeing you again Y/n.”

Two sets of eyes moved back and forth as Y/n paced around in front of them. One was nervous the other didn’t care about her reaction, well lack of one. Conrad went to speak but the other person in the room shook their head.

“Y-you lied-“

“I didn’t lie-“

“You didn’t tell me the truth!”

“Because I couldn’t, I’m sorry Y/n”

“It’s true Y/n. He couldn’t tell you the truth”

The truth being that Conrad was never a member of Hydra but a SHIELD agent. He had been undercover for four years. There were a handful of agents that were sent undercover and Conrad was one of them, the plan was to take Hydra down from the inside.

From what Conrad had said that it had worked, they had successfully captured members of Hydra one by one.

“Bu-but your meant to be the enemy”

“Yet you trusted him”

Y/n’s eyes squinted at the man sat next to Conrad “I understand that I’ve got real bad judgment when it comes to trusting men Fury”.

“I understand your confused but to be honest Conrad never lied to you-“

“I’ve been thinking he’s the bad guy from the moment he kidnapped me!”

“And yet you trusted him enough to let him come into your home”

“I-shut up. Okay so why are you telling me now?”

“I’ll let him fill you in on that. I’m going to go, it was nice meeting you again Y/n, truly. Goodbye”

Y/n watches Fury stand up fixing his trench coat before nodding to both of them then leaving. Taking the car with him. Leaving with a promise, promising her that Steve doesn’t and will never know that she’s alive.

Conrad’s eyes never moved away from Y/n, patting the seat next to him sighing a breath of relief when she sits. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about me, I wasn’t allowed to.”

“No I understand, sorry for overreacting”

“You didn’t-“ he chuckles “I missed you”

“I missed you too”

“So I erm I-I told Fury I want to retire and he’s accepted it, bu-but I was wondering i-if you would have me, here I mean”

“You want to say here? With me?”

“I haven’t got any family anymore a-and I feel happy here”

Conrad hated the silence that followed, he was about to tell her that it didn’t matter, that he would still come to visit, that he was sorry for overstepping when she finally spoke.

“We’ve got piglets. They are the cutest things ever, want to come look?”

“”We”?”

“Well yeah you live here now so…”

He moved so fast wrapping his arms around her, bringing her into his chest. Mumbling thank you over and over again.

In a way Conrad went off script when he took Y/n from her shared apartment with Steve, it was Hydra’s plan all along. The plan was to find a way to destroy Captain America. They had heard from a Hydra agent that was undercover with SHIELD that America’s golden boy had a girlfriend but was cheating on her with the black widow. The plan was to use Y/n as a way to get Steve to stop destroying their ‘hard work’. They were going to blackmail him, telling him that they won’t tell Y/n about his straying ways as long as he did what they said.

It was foolproof as the double agent told them that Steve was in love with Y/n.

Even though he had been cheating on her with someone she thought was her friend.

But Conrad knew that Hydra would hurt her just to get Steve to break. And that wasn’t something he could stand by and watch so he told the team he had been in charge of that he had gotten word that it was time to go ahead and kidnap Y/n. He did have to admit that it was admirable that she put up a fight against ten men who were ten times bigger than her, he hated it when Mitch punched her.

Due to having eyes on him he had to act as if the tears that were coming out from her pretty eyes wasn’t bothering him when she watched her boyfriend and friend sleeping together. When the Avengers showed up he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as Steve tries to make a pathetic attempt at explaining his betrayal. He did have to force himself to stifle the laugh that tried to make its way out when Natasha had tears in her eyes hearing that she meant nothing to Steve.

Conrad’s heart clenched at hearing that she was pregnant because she had already asked him to kill her, a thing that he agreed to do even if he didn’t want to. But hearing that she had lost her unborn baby made his heart clench even harder.

Getting her out of the rundown facility was easy as his team were to focused on keeping their eyes and guns trained on the Avengers. Getting her to the farmhouse that sat alone in the middle of nowhere was easy even if she was driving him mad when she kept asking him where he was taking her.

Fury found out that it was Conrad that had ‘killed’ Y/n a few months back when he had to meet the man to talk about how the progress was going. Fury was angry. He had met Y/n a handful of times he thought she was sweet, nice, definitely didn’t deserve to have her life to be ended the way it was. That was until Conrad told him the truth.

For the four months, three weeks and two days since he hadn’t seen her it had drove him insane he wanted so badly to reach out to her and let her know that he was thinking about her, that he was definitely coming back to her. Fury made him go no contact with her until the dust settled around them.

Conrad begged Fury not to let Steve know about Y/n being alive or where she was, Nick wasn’t a stupid man he knew that Conrad had clearly grown fond of Y/n. Finding out what Steve had done, he gave the man pacing around in his office his word. Steve would never find out.

“Con! We’ve got a runner!” Y/n screamed trying to chase after one of the pigs who decided to make a run for it. “She’s coming your way”

“I’ve got eyes on her! I’ve got her!” He cheered picking up the animal, who actually sighed in defeat.

“Shes so fast it’s unbelievable”

“I know, she was on a mission to get away” he laughed placing the pig back down into the pen.

“Her mission fail- what?”

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Gimme a kiss- wait…”

It had been two years since Conrad had joined Y/n at the farmhouse after retiring, in those two years Conrad had confessed his feelings for her, he understood that she probably needed some time since how her last relationship had ended so he was completely shocked when she jumped into his arms and kissed him. Through them two years they lived happily in complete ignorance of the world around them.

“What?” Following Conrad’s eyes looking up at the sky she frowned. “That’s one of SHIELD’s jets Con…”

“I know. Stay close to me okay”

“Obviously”

They watch in silence as the jet lowers on the field just at the back of their home, the door comes open and the ramp begins to descend. They share confused glances at seeing no one making an appearance, when someone finally stands in the doorway Y/n gasps.

It’s been four years to that day since she last saw him. Those four years weren’t kind to him honestly. His hair was longer and he was even sporting a beard. He looked bigger in muscle though his face was slimmer, his once bright blue eyes were now sunken and dull.

“H-how did he find us?” She whispered unable to move her eyes away from him.

Steve Rogers had found them.

And unfortunately was now making his way down the ramp.

Since Y/n had her eyes trained on his approaching figure she didn’t notice the rest of the Avengers making their exit from the jet. Even Loki and Bruce were there.

“You-you made out that you’ve been dead for four years and yet here you are shacking it up with the enemy” his voice was deeper than it use to be.

“How did you find her?” Conrad asked standing in front of her, not liking the way Steve’s eyes moved up and down her body.

“You let me believe that you was dead baby, for four years I’ve-“

“What are you doing here?” She cut him off.

“Fury. He’s not as sneaky as he thinks.”

“Why are you here Steven?”

“I want you back” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not happening. Leave all of you”

“Baby I made a mistake-“

“Don’t come any closer Rogers. I mean it” it’s now Conrad’s turn to interrupt him. Steve cocks his head to the side and laughs. But does as the other man says.

“He’s Hydra baby-“

“He was undercover for SHIELD. Please leave now”

“Is that what he told you?”

“It’s what Fury told me. Leave”

“Just come home okay, I can be better please baby I love you”

“I’m already home. Tony, Bucky please get him gone”

Bucky looks at her with an unreadable expression on his face “it’s nice to see you again Y/n/n. Come on Steve she’s happy here let-“

“No. No because she isn’t. She can’t just run away and pretend she’s dead-“

“You was cheating on me Steven. With my so called friend as well. I’m happy here, I don’t want you anymore”

“Natasha meant and still means nothing to me baby, it was a mistake, one that I want to make up for. Please just come home”

“I don’t care, I stopped caring about you and her a long time ago. I won’t ask-“

“Just come home!” Steve shouts cutting her off.

“She is home! Just leave and move on”

Standing there Steve shakes his head slowly before looking back up to Y/n. “D-do you really love him?”

“I do”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does”

Nodding, defeat and acceptance written on his face. “I really am sorry for everything I did Y/n, I-I never wanted to hurt you, I’m sorry truly.”

Leaving Conrad’s side she walks closer to Steve, standing in front of the man who she loved so much, the man who broke her heart. “I forgive you Steve, I’m happy now. Conrad is a great person and he makes me happy”

“I’m glad. I-I’ll always love you Y/n. Goodbye” Steve says before walking backwards and turning around to walk up to the jet. Everyone all except Natasha nods or waves to Y/n before following their captain.

Watching the jet leave Conrad moves closer to her wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. “You alright my love?”

“I’m more then alright, come on I’m starving and let’s not forget I am eating for two”

Hand in hand with Conrad she walks into their farmhouse seeing the positive side to seeing Steve again, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

At first Steve cheating on her was the worst thing that ever happened to her, but now four years later she was finally happier than ever before with the man who loves her and their unborn baby.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @vicmc624 | @capsbestgirl77

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You recently moved to a cabin in the woods for some peaceful time alone. But that is ruined when somehow a wide variety of different animals invade your space out of nowhere. Was this your Disney princess era or is there something more to it..

Also a crazy killer seems to be also on the loose as of now. And this guy who seems to be your new neighbour seems suspicious. Is there any connection?

(I kinda just had some scenarios made in my mind with the hazbin crew as animals so I decided to write them(◕ᴗ◕✿) )

Master list

CH-1: The fluffy and the winged friend

As you turned the key,the door opened with a click. A gust of dusty air left the cabin as you opened the door. Coughing a little you started to look for the light switch with your hand. Soon you found it and turned it on as light filled the room. It was the kitchen from the looks of it. There was an old stove on the left side of the room,followed by a sink and a countertop.

On the right side was a wooden sofa. It look to be in bad shape as some of its parts had been eaten by bugs.You took a mental note to fix that later. There was a small stool beside the sofa which looked pretty okay. There was also a window above the sink. You went there and opened it to let some fresh air in. There was two more room to explore. You went in the right one.

This time it was a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed on a corner. Alongside it was your wardrobe and on the other side of the room was a chair and a table, all of which you made sure to be moved here before you came. There was a door in there too which you guessed was the bathroom. You went to the window above the table and opened it to let the sunlight in.

The other room was a bit spacious with a small fireplace and some old books with shelves in a corner. There was a lounge there too. Everything looked pretty neat for now.After finishing your tour of the cabin you took a big breath.

You used almost all the money you saved up till now to buy this cabin around the woods. You really wanted to settle down in a quiet place close to nature from your childhood and it just seemed perfect.

"Welp,time to get some unpacking done"

You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and went to the balcony where all of your stuff were left in a pile of boxes. You crouched down and picked up a box labeled 'kitchen' and started to work.

You took a break at noon to whip something up quick for lunch and rest. The rest of the unpacking was almost done by afternoon,as you didn't have much anyway. You went to get one last box that was left on the balcony. It was a bit bigger then other ones. You went to open it up,but suddenly it started to violently shake.

"What the-"

You quickly took a couple steps back. You don't remember placing something moving or vibrating in that box. At least nothing that would start moving by itself like a blender. Gulping down you you slowly inched to the box again. As you were close to touching the lid, it opened by itself. Being startled,you quickly retrieved your hands as a pair of horns poked through the box.

"Huh?"

Suddenly that something with horns jumped in front of you from the box. It was a sheep, a small fluffy adorable sheep. Following its jump, an ashy moth also flew out from the box and sat on the sheep's horns.

You were confused as hell. How the heck did a whole ass sheep and a big moth get inside your box? It didn't seem like the boxes were open beforehand. But swatting away that confusion,you focused on what to do with the two little creatures in front of you right now.

Your cabin was surrounded by woods on one side and it was far from safe for a little sheep like it. Plus you really wanted to pet it for some reason. Deciding you'll keep it with you for however long You can. You slowly started to get close to it holding out your hand.

The sheep was looking at you curiously and started to walk over to your hand. While the moth seemed to be tensed by you almost.

Slowly the sheep was under your reach. You softly put your hand on it head and began to pet it. The sheep closed it eyes which you think meant it was enjoying it. The moth seemed to be comfortable too now. Looking closer, you noticed the moth was missing one of it's eye. There was a cross where it's left eye should be.

Normally you weren't a big fan of moths. But this one really looked pretty. You mentally cursed whichever thing that made such a cute creature look like this.

Now you slowly tried to pick up the sheep so you can carry it to your room. You had some vegetables left over that you could give to the sheep.

"Hey there darling,come with me. Let's get you some food alright..?"

You spoke in a soft voice attempting to reassure it. But then it hit you that they wouldn't understand your language. You mentally facepalmed yourself right then for your stupidity. But to your surprise,it came closer to you and let itself be picked up. Even looking a bit happy in the process if that was possible. You heart absolutely melted at the sight of it and the soft fur. The moth flew and sat on top of your head.

"Well then, let's get going,shall we?"

You said as you walked back into the cabin with the small sheep in hand and moth on your head. At least you wouldn't feel lonely in this cabin tonight.

(A/n: just trying to get the environment figured out in this chapter and I'm not really good with it:') )

(Also this is already published in both ao3 and wattpad under the same name. But I wanted to publish it here too and see how it goes. The artwork isn't mine!!)

[kestrelteens]

Once again I've been on an ACNH conversion spree and I wanted (and was asked) to share these adorable items with you guys, 'cause who doesn't love that game? 🦝

I have plenty more coming! And here are some more Animal Crossing items I shared in the past few days: 1 & 2;

branch (380 polys)

build deco bags (804 polys)

campfire (3,142 polys)

campsite (3,102 polys)

campsite deco items (1,484 polys)

clothesline (930 polys)

deco hammock (2,170 polys)

log with mushrooms (1,197 polys, 4 swatches)

mushroom stool (576 polys, 3 swatches)

deco tent (2,088 polys)- I suppose I could've made it functional easily, but it didn't cross my mind at the time, I might do update it in a few days!

washtub (1,195 polys)

watering can (598 polys, 2 swatches)

wooden watering can (566 polys)

wooden announcement board (984 polys)

Everything's compressed, enjoy! ♥

download (sfs) // alt download (mediafire)

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 5 all chapters

-You take him home, and you can't help but stare in awe as you go through the gate. The Wick residence is quite the cabin-style manse, a behemoth in dark painted wood and stone and massive mirrored windows.

“Do you...want to come in?” he offers as you park in the circle drive. “Dog would love to see you.” 

You look at him, not sure if that is code for he would like you to spend more time with him. It’s so hard to read this man. It doesn't seem like he's hitting on you though. Just…being nice? You know he must be lonely, and you truly have nothing better to do. 

“Ok. I can stay for a little while.”

The mudroom leads into the kitchen, which is dark cabinets and black marble countertops. Dog trots up to you immediately upon entrance, snoofing your outreached hands and leaning heavily on your legs. “Hi sweetie,” you say, scratching his side.

“How about a snack?” John offers, opening the refrigerator. “I’m always hungry after a hike.”

“Okay.” 

“Want some coffee? Tea?”

“I can make it, if you show me where your stuff is.”

“No, it’s your day off. Let me take care of you. You always take care of me.”

You're a little dumbfounded, standing in this man’s kitchen who by his own admission, you barely know. Never once have you been invited by any of the wealthy visitors from the coffee shop into their homes. Why would you be?

You aware again of how he towers over you. It makes your very bones weak, when he looks down at you with those shining dark eyes. He does not look away from you, holding your gaze. You don't know why, but you feel a little like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. 

“Have a seat,” he directs, nodding towards a leather-upholstered stool at the island.

 “Ok...”

You are not used to being taken care of. You’ve been on your own for so long.

You feel a little out of place, and cautiously slide up onto the stool, looking around. It’s an open plan, you can see into the recessed living room with its cavernous ceiling. The house is painted in dark shades, masculine, but very stylish. It's classy but comfortable, with large windows to let in the light and the natural beauty from outside.

Then you watch with more than a little fascination as John sets up a kettle and a French press, then starts putting together a little charcuterie spread on a wooden board. His hands are poetry in motion, and like when he’d helped you with your burn, you cannot look away. He slices artisan sausage and cheese, expensive locally crafted treats from the grocer you can never afford on your ramen budget. They look delicious.  

You feel like quite the honored guest. The kitchen fills with the heavenly scent of coffee as he pours the hot water into the carafe, and you relax slightly.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me, Mr. Wick,” you say as the selection on the charcuterie board expands to sliced apple and herby crackers, still a bit mortified.

 “Call me John,” he insists, looking at you through his hair. Your heart does an extra hard tha-thump in your chest. “And it’s my pleasure, really.”

With sundries in tow you go to the living room, where there are soft leather couches and a rustic walnut wood coffee table. He turns on the gas fireplace, lending the room a warm glow. You notice there are bookshelves flanking the fireplace that rise almost to the ceiling, completely full. This place is incredibly cozy, and as you settle into the cushion you regret already that you’ll have to leave.

Dog clambers up on the couch with you, practically climbing into your lap. You laugh, hugging the affectionate canine as he licks your face, but John gives him a funny look. 

“Is he not allowed on the couch?” you ask, feeling sheepish. 

“Not usually, but I'll let it slide.” He says it with a slight smile, looking at the animal bemusedly. “It's not often we have company.” 

Dog offers a canine smile, undoubtedly well aware that he is getting away with something this special day.

You take a sip of your coffee, and sigh. This is the good stuff. “God. You make better coffee than I do. Why do you even bother to come into the shop when you could just stay here all day?” You could just sit and read in this room for hours, you reckon. Look out the window. Watch the fire, and forget the outside world even exists.

“The shop has its perks,” he says quietly, looking at you out the corner of his eye. As usual, you're not sure if he's talking in double speak. In the end you decide it’s all in your head, and you relax a little more.

After snacking on tasty tidbits and sipping a bit more brew, you look around more. A wrought iron staircase leads up to a landing. You can tell the house sprawls a long way further back than just what you can see. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “Do you really live here all alone?”

You’ve never noticed a wedding ring, but then, he’s missingthe appropriate finger.

“Yes.” He looks off into the fire. “I was married once, but she passed away.”

Shit. You and your big fucking mouth.

“Oh. I'm so sorry.”

“Thanks. It seems like it was a lifetime ago now.” He frowns, clearly still deeply pained about it, and you feel so terrible for bringing it up. But sometimes once the scab is open, it's best to remember something good.

“What was her name?”

“Helen.”

“How pretty.”

“Yes. She was...a lovely woman.”

“What was she like?”

He smiles then. It's slight, and completely to himself. But you feel some validation in your train of inquiry. “She was smart, and funny, and she lit up any room she walked into.”

His total opposite, it sounded like. There’s a reason opposites attract, to make a whole. 

He sighs, a forlorn sound that squeezes your heart. “And, I loved her with all my heart.” 

“What a lucky woman,” you say before you can stop yourself. 

You absolutely feel the weight of the sidelong look he pays you this time.

“We had some luck, before she was diagnosed. But when you love someone like that...eternity wouldn't be long enough.”

You're not sure why there are tears in your eyes for someone you never met. 

“I wouldn't know,” you admit. 

No one has ever loved you so much. 

“You're young yet. You will, someday.” You can still feel him looking at you, out the corner of your eye. His gaze has such weight to it, a heady, heavy thing that is like a hand on your skin. 

“I’m not sure I want to,” you admit frankly. “It sounds…terrifying.”

“It is,” he agrees. “But when it hits you...you don't really get a choice.” 

Before you can think of an answer to that, somewhere in the house a phone rings. With a little frown John gets up to answer it. “Make yourself at home,” he tells you. It sounds a bit like an order.  

You take an impossibly soft blanket and drape it over you and dog, snuggling up in the cozy warmth. You don’t really mean to fall asleep, but you close your eyes, and you ae done for.

You dream that someone is gently touching your face, tracing the curve of your cheek ever so lightly.

You only wake up when there's a small noise, and you find John cleaning up what's left of the charcuterie board. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, glaring down at the cheese knife that dared roll off onto the table. 

That he would apologize to you, when you're the one who fell asleep in his house, is pretty absurd.

You sit up a little. The weight of dog has made one of your legs go numb. 

“I'm sorry,” you counter. You are mortified as you wonder if you were snoring. Waking up early for your shift at the coffee house tires you out so badly. It can be hard to have a real life, when you wake up at four in the morning. “I didn't mean to doze. It's so warm and comfortable here.”

He frowns again, but you don’t realize it’s because he’s wondering if you are warm and comfortable in your own tiny apartment. He holds up a hand when he sees you struggling to get free of the blanket. 

“It's alright. Stay as long as you like.” 

He takes what little is left of the sundries back into the kitchen. 

You manage to get up, and stretch, reawakening your limbs. You join him in the kitchen. The sun is hanging low in the sky. It will be dark soon. You have sooo overstayed your welcome, or so you think.

“You might as well stay for dinner now,” John says. As usual, you can't really tell if he's joking. 

He’s not, in fact, but he is being careful about how he handles this delicate thing between you. Seeing you snoozing contentedly on his couch with his dog moved him to his toes, and the notion of keeping you there with him is becoming harder and harder to resist.

It would be so easy, he thinks, just to keep you.

Fat snowflakes have started to fall outside. 

“I think I've imposed on you enough for one day. Thank you, this was nice.” 

He looks out at the snow, which is falling even more heavily now. 

“Sure you want to go out in this?” 

“Right now? Yes. In two hours, probably not.” 

He nods at that, seeming to think on something. “Will you...text me that you've gotten home safe?”

You are finding out that this outwardly stone-faced man has a protective steak that is totally endearing. You never would have guessed from his prickly exterior. 

“Sure. What's your number?”

He tells you, and you punch it into your phone. “Alright. See you later, Mr. Wick.” 

He doesn't correct you, and is it just you, or do his pupils dilate when you call him that? 

Hard to tell, with eyes so dark as his.

There is a pregnant moment between you, in which you wonder if you should offer him a hug, or if that would totally ruin the balance of your companionship. You briefly wonder what he would do if you stood on tiptoe, steadied yourself with a hand on that muscular chest, and kissed him on the cheek, before you decide you need to go.

Later you text him a funny string of emojis involving a house, snowflakes, the wide-eyed smiley, and a penguin, imagining how they would make him scrunch up his brow. 

Does this mean you're home safe? 

Yes, Mr. Wick.

Glad to hear it. Good night, y/n.

[gummilutt]

Get dressed action on towel racks

A while ago I started using @episims' wonderful towel lite mod that makes our Sims put on a towel or a bathrobe after they shower or bathe. It adds a delightful touch of realism that is really fun. But as much as I enjoy taking my rich lady from her fancy bathroom to her walk in closet in a towel, sometimes I don't want to send my Sim past their bedroom to get dressed. When I shower I usually get dressed in the bathroom, putting on clothes I hung by the towels before getting in the shower. I thought, why can't my Sims do the same? With a little imagination, I re-purposed the actions of the Seasons coat rack to add clothes-changing animations to the towel racks that most of my Sims already have in their bathrooms, so that I can pretend they too put out their clothes on the towel rack before getting in. I wasn't sure if it was worth uploading but you guys loved the idea so here we go! :)

I only added everyday, formal and pyjamas because those are the three I thought it likely I would ever want. Shower during the day? Everyday clothes please! Girlies got ready for a night out? Get glam with your formal wear! A shower before bed? You'll want your pyjamas. The other categories seem unlikely, but I am open to updating it if there's a persuasive reason :)

As you can see in the video Sims are pretty decent about using the towel racks, even if they are on a wall behind stuff. I haven't altered the actual code to navigate to it, it uses the same slot as viewing the deco object did previously, which in my test has worked well. In the end I had to use different animations for children because the coat rack uses a step stool which needs a slot that the deco objects do not have and I could not figure out adding one. It was either different animations or floating in the air, so different animations it is :)

I've edited three of the Maxis towel racks. "Towel on a Metal Rod", "Towel on a Wooden Rod" and "Towel Hanger Plus Plus". I'm also sharing one edited CC towel rack by Simply Styling, which I discovered through @gayars recolors found on her website here.

Get maxis towel rack add on on SFS | Get Jope towel rack on SFS

If any creators would like to add these edits to their own towel racks, please feel free to do so. To make it easier on you, or any simmer that simply wants to update things they downloaded, I prepared a download package with the resources you need and some basic instructions. It's not step by step, it assumes you are familiar with edits. Should anyone want or need more detailed instructions, I am happy to help when I can :) (Update 2024-03-06 I replaced the routing mechanism in the interactions, to avoid a slot-missing error that happens in some CC objects that do not have a routing slot)

Conflicts: The maxis towel rack add on are global plug in for those objects, which means there is a potential for conflicts. HCDU+ will find any conflicts, but I doubt there are any. Indirect conflicts may also occur if you have mods that add additional interactions to deco objects, they would not show on the towel racks because I have overridden their usual pie menu.

Credits: whoward69 at @picknmixsims who taught me how to edit event trees in animations, @episims for the towel lite mod that inspired this, @gayars who taught me how to repurpose animations between objects and for introducing me to the jope towel, and all you lovely people that encouraged me to post this with your enthusiasm <3

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twelve

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twelve: Read Me, But Don't Weep

“Raya? Are you there?”

The clock ticks in the empty studio, wooden floors untouched by the sound of footsteps for days.

“We’re really worried, Raya. Please let me see you.”

Gramps used to be walking around the studio at this time of day. He’d have a steaming cup in hand as he’d trail past your empty workbench, a proud smile curling on his lips. He’d pick your blades up when he thought you weren’t watching and run his finger on their sharp edges.

“Sanji’s here with a meal for you.”

If his finger bled, he’d smile to himself with an approving sip of tea. If it didn’t, he would’ve peeled a post it note from the large stack you’d keep on your table.

“She still isn’t responding. I…I don’t know what to do…”

“Give her time, Nami-san. Look there.” A clinking of plates. The faint silhouette of a cigarette in hand. “She’s finished another bowl. That’s progress.”

He’d draw an arrow across the note using his non-dominant hand, balancing the cup in his other. He’d tack it on the metal, recap the pen, and sit outside with his journal.

The shadow of a small figure props up on his shoulder. “But her wounds, Sanji. If they don’t get tended to, I won’t sleep at night…”

An inhale of smoke. “I have an idea.”

“Look at me!” it would say. Very vague, very non-descriptive. But you’d instantly know what you needed to refine.

When he’d go to sleep, you’d snag the same scrawled-on note from your workspace, scrawl a goofy animal bowing, saying, ‘thank you, old man!’ underneath his text, and quickly slip it into his logbook.

You haven’t slept for days. It’s the anxiety - the sudden twang of loneliness that pulls in your chest when you’re in your bed; the light flickers, your eyes search for the time, and suddenly it hits you that Suki isn’t going to come into your room to wish you goodnight anymore.

The clock's unforgiving chime echoes at five in the morning. Your workshop, usually a sanctuary, feels stifling as you pace anxiously. A tumult of possibilities, questions, and thoughts overwhelms you, each one intensifying the tight knot in your chest, and frankly...

Well, frankly, when you close your eyes, you’re haunted by the image of those eyeballs.

One purple, one grey. One purple, one grey. One that makes you scream, the other that makes you cry.

Today’s the day you finally decide to go through his journal. Always meticulously placed on his favourite stool, its edges torn, and pages thickly bound with a multitude of Gramps-esque thoughts, it lays there from a distance as a heavy reminder of him.

When you open its contents, your fingers tracing through each page, a flurry of multicoloured papers roll out like a snowstorm, covering the floor with hundreds of small post-it notes.

“FLATTEN ME HERE >” one note says.

Below his instruction is your response, a drawing depicting a bear clasping its hands together, saying,

“Thanks, Gramps!”

A blue post-it note, this time:

“Good job. Very sharp.” Smudged traces of blood adorn the top of its corner.

“Need a plaster?” you respond, presenting a very detailed drawing of a smug human smile slapped on a cat’s face.

And you can’t help it. Tears seem to be pooling up in your eyes as you crouch to the floor, fingers gently going through each note in silence. You miss him. You feel out of control. You’re just…lost.

Gently, a soft rapping interrupts the stillness at the front door. Your attention sharply redirects to the source, and with a swift, almost instinctive motion, you vigorously swipe your face with the rough fabric of your sleeve as if trying to erase all emotion on your face.

“Good morning, Raya-san. I’ve put your breakfast outside the door…”

His figure lingers in the crook of the opaque door. He pulls a cigarette to his mouth, a hand tucked into his pockets, and he waits. Only for a second. Waiting to see if maybe this time, you’ll open the door.

True to expectations, there's no response from you. You're crouched on the floor, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of notes, observing his figure as it remains a mere blur. He exists as an elusive presence, unable to connect with you on any level beyond the provision of sustenance.

He fidgets slightly, pressing his legs away from the door.

“…Hey, just…please don’t forget to hydrate.”

As the echoes of his departing footsteps fade, you gradually unfurl from your crouched position. Moving with deliberate quietness, you approach the door, fingertips grazing its surface before grasping the knob. With a gentle turn, you lean in to peer through the peephole, confirming the emptiness beyond.

He's gone.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the door swings open. Your gaze drifts downward, and an overwhelming tide of gratitude and warmth floods your being. The remnants of his kindness linger in the air, a subtle yet tangible embrace. He tends to you, a guardian of care, even in the silence you offer, even when your words remain unspoken.

It’s the usual loving, simple breakfast that graces the front of your door.

Hot tea, no milk or sugar. Sliced apples and oranges adorn the plate like a bunch of blooming flowers - ripe to eat and fragrant to the nose - with a bowl of hand-made yoghurt resting by its side. Surprised, you cock your head at the meal - it's just the way you like it. You suppose that after a few days of testing out different meals with you, Sanji’s been closely observing what you have and haven’t been touching on your plate.

This time, however. you notice that there’s something obscure being propped in the corner of your eye; right next to the plate, there’s a big red box with a medic sign neatly painted across its lid.

“Chopper..." you mutter to yourself, running your fingers over the white medical bandages from within the box.

You feel so guilty – for all of it. You don’t deserve this level of kindness, this thoughtfulness that these members are showering you with. How ungrateful you are to not even open the door to thank them, to show them your face, to offer a smile and let them know that you’re going to be okay.

And still, without expecting anything in return, they still tend to you; Sanji feeds you, Nami sits in front of your door every day and obnoxiously talks to herself out loud, Chopper constantly worries for your physical health… All the while, you haven’t offered a reassuring word through the gap of your door.

Besides receiving it from Gramps, you haven’t experienced much unconditional love in your life - and that scares you. All of this scares you. Their love. It just...feels weird.

You find yourself perched on the floor, grappling with the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“What would you do if you were in my place?” Leaning in, you whisper to Suki's journal, your eyes carrying a silent plea for guidance. You feel the journal's roughened leather cover beneath your palm, your fingertips explore the edges of papers slightly unhinged from its binding.

Then, mid-bite, you pause. Your attention shifts as your fingers discover a loose piece of paper. It's strategically placed, almost as if meant for your eyes alone. Reading the words scrawled across its outer corner, you momentarily forget the apple in your hand, drawn into the unseen musings between the pages.

Raya. Read me.

Your heart pounds in your throat, immediately pulling the sheet out from its bound home.

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

Raya,

In the best-case scenario, I naturally left you as I gave you my parting words.

In the worst, I probably pretended not to know you.

All in all, I hope that as you read this, you start snapping the way you always do whenever I’m trying to get a rise out of you…

Raya, if I have passed, please let my body rest in Wano. After that, I want you to immediately get the hell out of that place and start living your life.

If I am alive - and this is incredibly imperative - do not look for me. I want you to imagine me as having passed, to immediately get the hell out of my workshop, and to start living your life.

There’s much I haven’t told you. Some say I’m better at writing words than speaking them, and I must wholeheartedly agree; I suppose that’s why I began writing in the first place. You still have a part of me within these entries. Words never die, but the memories of them do.

I’m very much aware that I hadn’t said this enough to you – perhaps out of my ‘Wano-esque’ pride, as you call it – but I am incredibly proud of you.

I’m glad that my granddaughter was the catalyst for kicking me out of my home country - because if it had never happened, I would have been a thankless old man, doing thankless things in the comfort of my own home. And that’s why…

I decided to join the Straw Hats behind your back.

I know you’re probably incredibly furious with me right now. But please hear me out before you do anything.

I’m sorry for doing this without you knowing, but I‘d somehow known that I wouldn’t have enough time to kick your ass out of my workshop before I’d be gone.

Raya, even if I’m too old for adventure, I want my spirit to watch over and follow yours. I joined so that you would simply have no other choice but to follow me.

Become the greatest blacksmith of your generation. Hell, become a pirate. Join me on the Sunny.

Kozuki Sukiyaki

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

The paper in your hand aggressively shudders, your gaze drifting to the door in front of you. You shove down the sob rising in your throat, fingernails digging into your skin.

He did what?

You’re seething. What the fuck? This actual hardass planned this all from the beginning. He knew. He knew something was going to happen and instead of informing you, he joined a fucking pirate crew.

Gramps would smile every time he’d open his journal, looking forward to every morning when he’d be able to read another new message.

You barge out the door, letter firmly grasped in your claws.

You’d stay in the workshop, pretending to be refining your blades, but in the corner of your eye, you’d be secretly watching, waiting for him to open his leather cover, and be met with your love.

The sunlight splinters through into your weakened eyes, the heat in your legs increasing as you begin charging towards the cave, towards the coastline, towards the fucking Sunny.

It was something so little, something so insignificant. But between you two, it was an earth-bending way of expressing your love, your gratitude to one another.

You leap onto the Sunny, standing straight in front of a knotted Luffy, his body stringing over the mast like a broken flag.

His eyes widen immensely as he sees you, breathing in a considerable amount of air, before screaming,

“RAYAAA-“

You throw your hand into the air, gaining more and more speed as your fingers plunge forward, and you strike at Luffy’s cheek.

You slap him. You slap Luffy with Gramps’ letter. Hard.

“Raya!” Usopp shrieks, running to restrain you. “What’s going on?”

“What did I do now?!” Luffy moans, wringing his arms around the mast.

“You let my old man join your crew?” You scream at Luffy, Usopp struggling to restrain you.

A synchronous “What?!” from the entire crew resounds on the Sunny, everyone momentarily forgetting their activities.

“Is it true, Luffy?” Chopper’s eyes are practically bulging.

“Oh, that!” Luffy scratches his head, a goofy grin plastered across his face, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in your eyes. “Yeah, I did!”

"What do you mean, 'Yeah, I did'?" Sanji interjects, cigarette dangling from his lips. His usual calm demeanour cracks, revealing a hint of irritation.

Luffy shrugs, "He asked if he could join, and I said sure. He's a cool oldie."

Usopp struggles to hold you back as you seethe with anger, the letter crumpled in your grip. "Cool oldie? Luffy, he’s gone! He didn’t intend to actually join; he's trying to make me join. Do you understand?” Luffy, still clueless about the emotional turmoil he's caused, scratches his head again. “No?”

You find your voice, the anger giving way to a desperate plea. "Luffy, he did this because he knew he was going to be taken away, and he didn't want me to be left all alone. He wants me to join, to continue his legacy.”

Luffy's grin fades as he looks at you, the weight of the situation dawning on him. "Ohhhh…”

Zoro, who's been leaning against the mast with closed eyes, finally speaks up, "Luffy, you should've at least informed her. We don't know what she's been through."

You snap your head up, glaring straight at the fucking marimo.

“What did you just say?” You hiss.

Zoro, leaning against the mast with his eye still closed, seems undisturbed by your sharp retort. His posture remains relaxed, but there's a subtle tension in the air, an unspoken challenge between you and the swordsman.

Your glare, fuelled by frustration and betrayal, meets Zoro's closed eye. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you, yet he remains unfazed.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Zoro opens his eye, revealing a keen gaze that pierces through the charged atmosphere. The intensity in his expression matches yours, a silent acknowledgment of the clash between two strong-willed spirits.

As you lock eyes with him, there's an unspoken understanding that goes beyond the immediate conflict. It's a recognition of shared defiance, a stubbornness that transcends words. Zoro doesn't look away; instead, he meets your gaze head-on, challenging you to confront the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Usopp, sensing the escalating tension, takes a step back, observing the interaction between you and Zoro with a raised eyebrow.

You take a step forward, still seething with anger, and Zoro, in response, pushes himself off the mast. The distance between you two narrows, and the air crackles with the unresolved energy of conflicting emotions.

“Don’t act like you understand anything,” you hiss, your voice laced with bitterness. “You’re the one who let him get taken.”

Zoro's eyes narrow at your accusation, a flicker of irritation breaking through his calm exterior. The crew, still frozen in the wake of your outburst, watches the confrontation unfold with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I didn't let him get anything," Zoro retorts, his voice low and steady. "Your old man made his own choice. Don't put that on me."

Your fists clench at your sides, the pain and anger surging through you. The words you exchanged with Suki's journal replay in your mind, intensifying the overwhelming emotions. You take another step forward, closing the gap between you and Zoro, your eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"He joined the crew to protect you," Zoro continues, his gaze unwavering. "He wanted you to live freely, without being tied down to whatever he’s hiding."

"He didn't need to join a crew of pirates for that," you shoot back, your voice shaking with rage and sorrow. "He could've told me. He could’ve let me choose my own choices."

Zoro's jaw tightens, and a rare hint of emotion flashes in his eyes.

Franky and Chopper, still on edge, watch the intense exchange between you and Zoro.

You tear your gaze away from Zoro, the anger subsiding into a heavy sadness. Your shoulders slump, and the weight of the recent events presses down on you; everyone watches, unsure of how to comfort you in your moment of vulnerability.

Luffy's expression turns more serious as he looks at you, "He said not to tell you…He wanted it to be a surprise."

You hold the paper in your hand like grasping at the last remnants of your grandfather. "Luffy, do you have any idea what he wrote in this letter?"

The crew falls silent, awaiting your response. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before speaking.

"He said if he's alive, I shouldn't look for him. Pretend he’s dead. Continue living my life as if nothing ever happened. I’m sick of him telling me what to do, Luffy. I’m sick of the secrets and the surprises and...and...."

The weight of those words hangs in the air, a heavy silence settling over the tumbling waves. Nami places a warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing you in comfort.

“Something bad’s happening,” you say, looking at each and everyone in the eye. “I can just feel it. And there’s no chance that I’m going to just… let my old man...”

“Then, join us,” Luffy intervenes, crossing his arms.

You stare at him, taken aback by his bluntness. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?"

“I did,” Luffy affirms with a nod. He steps towards you, placing a hand on the other side of your shoulder, and offers you a slight smile. “No hard feelings, Swords, but we’re gonna grab Gramps with or without you being a part of our crew. And this time, it’s your choice. Not Gramps. Not anybody’s. Yours. You choose.”

"I..." You pause, unsure of what to say. "I mean..."

Luffy cocks his head at you, beaming.

"Well? What's it gonna be?"

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy Fathers Day.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

author’s note - happy father’s day, y’all, i know that is late but this cute little idea popped into my head and i just had to write about it. 🫶

word count - 7.3k

in which, father’s day was something that harry never envisioned himself celebrating in past years, but now that he has his own little one, he couldn’t be more excited to celebrate . It’s been almost a three years since your angel baby made an appearance (25 months to be exact) and today is father’s day you’ll be spending the day with your gorgeous husband and your prince charley, as well as some friends, family and a whole lotta love.

trigger warnings - mentions of panic attacks <3

June 18th, 2023.

Acoronf to Wikipedia, is a holiday honouring one's father, or relevant father figure, as well as fatherhood, paternal bonds, and the influence of fathers in society.

It was a very special day but also a slightly bitter sweet one.

As much as Harry loved celebrating Father’s Day with his family, and his biological father, he couldn’t help but think of his step father Robin on this day.

He passed away in 2017.

You wake up with a smile, the realization dawning on you that it's Father's Day. Excitement dances in your eyes as you glance at your husband, still slumbering peacefully beside you. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist like it always was when you slept.

You carefully climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb the man beside you before heading across the hall to your son's room to check on him.

It’s what you did every morning.

Your bare feet hid the wooden floor as you made your way over to his room, your hand reaching out to push the door open even more than it already was.

That was when you made your way over to the crib and your eyes softened at his peaceful figure.

Charley Robin Styles.

Born May 10th, 2021 at 09:18 am.

He's still sound asleep, cuddled up in his little fortress of stuffed animals, lying in his front which was a habit he picked up from his father.

A surge of love fills your heart as you watch him, grateful for the gift of being parents to such a wonderful little boy. He was so carefree and hardly ever kicked off, but that was before he started going through his terrible twos.

You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before you tiptoed out of the room, closing the door gently, and headed to the bathroom to prepare a special surprise for Your Harry.

With delicate care, you set up the bathroom, transforming it into a mini oasis. Soft towels, scented candles, and Harry's favourite shower gel adorn the space.

Everything is in place as you quietly slip back into the bedroom, ready to awaken Harry with your surprise.

You sit on your side of the bed, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's a special day.”

Harry stirs, blinking his eyes open slightly before a sleepy smile graced his face. "Hmm? What's going on?"

"It's Father's Day, love," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I've arranged a little surprise for you in the bathroom. Shall we start the day off with a relaxing shower?"

Although he had just woken up, you could see the small smirk that filtered into his face as the idea of a shared shower.

But there would be none of that today mister.

Harry's eyes widen with delight as he fully wakes up, realizing the treat in store for him. "You've outdone yourself, my love. Lead the way."

Hand in hand, you make your way to the bathroom, the anticipation building.

The flickering candlelight casts a warm glow as you step into the steam-filled shower. The soothing sound of running water envelops you, heightening the atmosphere of relaxation.

"Sit here," you gesture to a small stool inside the shower, covered with a plush towel.

Harry settles onto the stool, his eyes fixed on you. "You're spoiling me today."

He spoiled you every day so it was only fair.

"You deserve it," you reply, reaching for a loofah and squeezing a dollop of his favorite shower gel onto it. "Today, it's all about celebrating you as an incredible father."

You dip the loofah into the warm water, watching it foam up with fragrant bubbles.

Gently, you begin to wash Harry's back, your touch a tender caress. The lathered loofah glides smoothly over his tattooed skin, releasing a subtle aroma that fills the air.

Vanilla and Oak.

Harry closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation. "This is heaven. Thank you, my love."

You smile, your heart swelling with love. "I'm just getting started. There's more to come."

With each stroke of the loofah, you pour your love and appreciation into the simple act of pampering.

You work your way down his back, his shoulders, and his arms, focusing on every inch of his tired muscles, washing away the fatigue of fatherhood.

As you rinse off the soap, your hands glide through his hair, massaging his scalp with practised tenderness just how you know he likes it. The water cascades down, washing away the suds and any lingering worries, leaving only a sense of serenity in its wake.

"I'm so lucky to have you as the father of our son," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "You bring so much joy and love into our lives."

Harry opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours. "And I'm grateful every day to be your partner, to witness the incredible mother you are. Our son is blessed to have you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you lean in, your lips brushing against his. The shower becomes a sanctuary of love and appreciation, a sacred space where the bond betweenyou and Harry deepens, reinforced by the shared moments of tenderness and gratitude.

As the water continues to cascade over you both, you shift your attention to Harry's front, your hands working their magic against his butterfly tattoo with the gentle touch of the loofah. You navigate the curves of his chest, the contours of his abdomen, and down to his legs, ensuring every part of him is enveloped in the soothing embrace of the shower.

"Thank you for being such an incredible father," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Our son is growing up with a role model who embodies love, kindness, and strength."

Harry's eyes glisten with emotion, his love for his family radiating from within. "Being a father is the greatest gift. I wouldn't trade it for anything. And I couldn't do it without your unwavering support and love."

You smile, the water mingling with tears of joy on your cheeks. "We're a team, Harry. Through the challenges and the joys, we're in this together."

Together, you rinse off the remaining suds, feeling the weight of the day and the world wash away with each droplet. As the shower comes to an end, you wrap soft, fluffy towels around each other, basking in the warmth and comfort of the moment.

After the shower, instead of getting changed you and Harry decided to stay wrapped in your pyjamas.

Well you wore one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of his boxers whilst he just wore his boxers and left his torso on show completely.

You cast a look over to the baby monitor that was resting on your husband's bedside table. “— shall we go wake up Char and head downstairs for some brekkie?”

Waking up your son was one of Harry’s favourite things to do, he loved to be the first Charley saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night.

Together, you enter Charley's bedroom, greeted by the sight of him still sleeping peacefully in his crib. His tousled hair that matched his fathers and rosy cheeks make your heart swell with love. Harry approaches the crib, his voice filled with warmth and anticipation.

"Good morning, little champ," Harry whispers, leaning over the crib rail. "Wake up, Char. It's a special day today."

Charley stirs, blinking his sleepy eyes open, and a smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes his dad's voice. "Daddy?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

Harry chuckles softly, reaching down to scoop Charley into his arms. "Yes, buddy, it's me," he replies, his voice brimming with affection.

Charley's face lights up with delight. "Happy Daddy Day!" he exclaims, his small arms wrapping around Harry's neck.

 You join in the tender moment, a loving smile on your lips. "Happy Father's Day, Harry," you say, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Harry's eyes twinkle with gratitude as he gazes at both of you. "Thank you, my loves. This is already the best Father's Day ever."

With Charley nestled against Harry's chest, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. The delicious aroma of breakfast lingers in the air, inviting you to partake in the celebration. As you enter the kitchen, you see the table adorned with a feast fit for a king—fluffy pancakes, sizzling bacon, fresh fruits, and a steaming pot of coffee.

The morning sunlight spills into the kitchen, casting a warm glow over the countertops and filling the room with a gentle ambiance.

Charley's eyes widen with glee as he spots the colourful array of food.

"Breakfast!" he exclaims, clapping his hands in delight.

"That's right, buddy. A special Father's Day breakfast for all of us."

You settle Charley into his high chair, his little legs dangling beneath the tray. His excitement is contagious as he eagerly waits for his plate to be filled. Meanwhile, you and Harry take your seats, the anticipation of the meal bringing smiles to your faces.

You begin to fill Charley's plate with small portions of each delicious treat. Pancakes, cut into bite-sized pieces, are stacked high, adorned with a dollop of whipped cream and a drizzle of maple syrup. You carefully place a few slices of crispy bacon beside the pancakes, knowing it's his favourite. Ripe strawberries, juicy watermelon chunks, and a handful of blueberries complete Charley's colourful plate.

Charley's eyes light up as he takes in the feast before him.

“Yummy!" he exclaims, reaching out to grab a piece of pancake with his tiny fingers.

Harry leans over, his eyes brimming with pride. "Go ahead, buddy. Dig in. It's a special breakfast just for you and me."

You smile, watching the father-son duo bond over their shared excitement for the meal. Charley's small hand grabs a piece of pancake, and with a delighted giggle, he takes his first bite. A smudge of whipped cream adorns his cheek, a testament to his enjoyment.

While Char enthusiastically devours his breakfast, you and Harry exchange glances, savouring the simple joy of this moment. It's a celebration of Harry's role as a father and the love that surrounds your family.

"Thank you," Harry says, his voice filled with gratitude as he looks at you. "For this beautiful surprise, for being an amazing mother to our son, and for making every day feel like Father's Day."

Touched by his words, you reach across the table and clasp his hand. "I'm grateful for you, Harry. You bring so much love and joy into our lives. Watching you with Charley fills my heart with happiness."

Charley, oblivious to the depth of the conversation, claps his hands and exclaims, "Daddy!"

Harry chuckles, his eyes glistening with emotion. "That's right, buddy. I'm your daddy, and I love you more than words can express."

The breakfast continues, laughter and conversation filling the room. You share stories and jokes, creating memories that will be treasured for years to come. Charley's infectious laughter rings out, reminding you of the incredible gift of family.

As the meal draws to a close, you rise from the table, carrying Charley in your arms. With a satisfied grin, he leans in to give his dad a messy, syrup-sticky kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" Charley exclaims, his voice filled with love.

Harry's eyes shine with pure joy as he gazes at his son. "Thank you, Charley. Being your daddy is the greatest privilege in the world."

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After getting changed for the barbecue, all three of you were getting everything ready for when your guests would be arriving.

You were wearing a white knee length cotton dress, with white ruffles on the sleeves, paired with a pair of white converse seeing as you didn’t want to walk around your garden all day in heels.

Harry was wearing a grey tank top with a pair of multi coloured shorts to add a bit of colour to his outfit, his hair was pushed back by a bandana and some white Adidas running trainers.

Charley looked really cute. He was wearing some white and blue pin striped overalls with some light blue crocs on his feet and a hat sat backwards atop of his head to protect his head from getting burned.

As you stood in the kitchen, you stared at the open fridge, head tilted to the side, as you studied all of the food you had brought for your guests.

A million and one thoughts were running through your head.

Did you have enough chicken wings?

What about burgers? There were going to be twelve people at the barbecue but what if you ran out?

And salad? You hadn’t checked if anyone was allergic to anything, what if someone had an allergic reaction?

As the pressure of preparing for the Father's Day barbecue intensifies, the weight on your shoulders becomes almost unbearable.

The constant stream of tasks, the expectations you've placed on yourself, and the fear of falling short begin to consume your thoughts. The familiar signs of a panic attack start to manifest—racing heart, shallow breathing, and a tightening in your chest.

Why had you agreed to organise this bbq?

In the midst of the chaos, you don’t even realise that Harry has walked into the kitchen, his wedding ring being the only ring in his finger for the day and his nails freshly painted by you the night before.

Harry senses your distress and quickly springs into action.

"Hey, love," he says, his voice laced with concern as he approaches you. "I can see you're feeling overwhelmed. Let's take a moment to regroup."

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath. "Harry, I don't know if I can do this," you manage to say between gasps. "I wanted everything to be perfect, but it's too much. I'm failing."

Everything was becoming hard to focus on.

Harry's face softens with empathy, and he gently guides you away from the hustle and bustle of the preparations.

"Alright, darling," he reassures you, "let's step away from this for a moment. We'll find a quiet space where you can catch your breath."

With Charley by his side, Harry leads you to a serene corner of the house, away from the chaotic whirlwind that had engulfed you. He gently guides Charley into the adjacent room, making sure he's occupied and safe.

Harry didn’t ever want Charley to see either of you having an anxiety attack, it was something he never wanted his son to grow up to see.

He always made sure that your angel baby was in another room either watching tv or occupied by his toys so as to not see either of his parents having a meltdown.

That’s what made him an even better father.

As the door closes, a sense of isolation settles upon you, exacerbating your panic. Harry, however, remains by your side, his calming presence providing a lifeline.

He guides you to sit down on the sofa in the lounge room, he sits down beside you, his warm hand resting on your back.

"Focus on your breathing," he says, his voice steady and soothing. "Close your eyes, take slow breaths with me. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale."

You follow his instructions, attempting to mimic his rhythmic breathing pattern. The sound of Harry's voice becomes a guiding melody, anchoring you amidst the storm of your racing thoughts.

But the panic refuses to subside. The weight on your chest intensifies, and you clench your fists, feeling the urge to escape from the suffocating grip of anxiety.

You felt as though you were going to faint.

Harry senses your struggle and adjusts his approach. He reaches out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own.

“It's okay to feel overwhelmed," he whispers, his voice filled with empathy. "You're not failing, love. You're doing the best you can, and that's more than enough."

Tears stream down your face as the weight of his words sinks in.

“But what if it's not enough?" you sob, your voice choked with fear. "What if I disappoint everyone?"

You had spent too much time organising this for it all to fall to shit.

Harry's grip tightens, his voice firm but reassuring. "Listen to me," he says, his eyes locking with yours.

"You are enough, and you are loved. Our family and friends are going to be here to celebrate with us, not to judge how flawlessly everything is prepared. They're here because they cherish the time spent together."

His words resonate, breaking through the cloud of panic. Slowly, your breathing begins to regulate, and the tightness in your chest eases. You open your eyes, meeting Harry's gaze filled with unwavering support.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude and a bit raspy due to the crying your throat just endured. "I needed you to remind me of that. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Harry smiles, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You don't have to do it alone, love," he says softly. "We're a team, and we'll navigate this together. Remember, the true essence of today is celebrating fatherhood and the love we share as a family."

Oh, what would you do without him?

After you and Harry continued to sit next to each other on the lounge sofa, it wasn’t long before Charley was calling out for his father to come and play.

Harry seemed hesitant about leaving you alone but you were quick to usher him towards where your son was, telling him that you needed to get cleaned up before the guests arrived.

Now that the panic had subsided and left you feeling vulnerable, you knew that it was time to take care of yourself. Give yourself a little bit of TLC.

You stumbled your way to the bathroom, seeking solace within its familiar walls. The cold tiles beneath your feet offered a grounding sensation, a small anchor in the midst of chaos.

With trembling hands, you turned on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reached the perfect temperature—neither too hot nor too cold. Cupping your hands, you allowed the clear stream to cascade over your fingers, a gentle touch against your skin.

As the water pooled in your palms, you brought it to your face, splashing it with gentle force. Each drop that landed on your skin carried with it a whisper of relief, a momentary respite from the turmoil within. You repeated the ritual, each splash washing away a fraction of the panic that had overwhelmed you.

With each touch of the water, you felt a sense of renewal. It was as if the pure liquid carried not only physical cleansing but also a soothing balm for your troubled mind. The weight of the panic began to lift, replaced by a glimmer of calmness that danced within your soul.

After the final splash, you reached for a soft towel, its fibres caressing your sensitive skin. With delicate motions, you patted your face, the material absorbing the remaining droplets and leaving a sense of comfort in its wake. As you dried yourself, you focused on the rhythmic motion, finding solace in the simple act of self-care.

Once your face was cleansed and dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was a survivor—a testament to your strength and resilience. The panic attack may have shaken you, but it did not define you. You were stronger than the storm that tried to break you.

Someone ringing at your ring doorbell snapped you out of your slight daze and had you turning your head towards the bathroom door.

Your guests had finally arrived.

Taking a small breath, you walked out of the bathroom, out of your bedroom and down the stairs and made your way towards the front door.

Harry had no idea who was coming today, he thought it was his family but boy was he wrong.

You invited his closest friends, Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall, along with their kids, to join in the festivities.

It was going to be a good day.

On your way to the front door you fixed yourself in the floor length mirror located by the door and pushed some of your hair out of your face, before pressing your hand against the handle and opening it up to see all their smiling faces.

It was adorable that they had all arrived together.

Opening the door, you were met with the smiling faces of Louis, holding hands with his seven-year-old son, Freddie, and Zayn, with his two-year-old daughter, Khai, perched on his hip. Liam trailed close behind, accompanied by his six-year-old son, Bear, while Niall stood beside his girlfriend, Amelia, wearing a grin from ear to ear.

"Surprise!" Niall exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice. "Happy Father's Day, Harry!

You looked over your shoulder at your husband who was with Charley. “— H, look who it is!”

Harry, who had been playing with Charley in the living room, turned his head at the sound of your voice. He entered the hallway, his eyes widening with astonishment as he took in the unexpected sight of his friends and their kids.

"Hey, mate! Happy Father's Day!" Louis greeted Harry, giving him a friendly pat on the back.

Harry's face lit up, his surprise transforming into pure joy. "You guys! I had no idea you were coming! This is amazing!"

Freddie, eager to join in the excitement, tugged at Harry's shirt. "Uncle Harry, we're here for the party! Are you gonna play superheroes with us?"

Harry chuckled, lifting Charley onto his hip. "Absolutely, Freddie! We'll save the day together!"

Zayn grinned, handing Khai over to Liam so he could give Harry a warm hug. "Mate, we wouldn't miss this for the world. Happy Father's Day! And trust me, our kids are gonna keep us on our toes today."

Liam, with Bear at his side, playfully nudged Harry. "You're in for some serious dad competition, my friend. Bear here is already strategizing for the water balloon fight."

Niall chimed in, wrapping his arm around Amelia's waist. "Happy Father's Day, Harry! We thought we'd come and celebrate with the best dad we know. Plus, we brought some goodies!"

Harry's eyes gleamed with gratitude as he took in the warm wishes from his friends. "Thank you all so much. This means the world to me. And Charley here is in for a treat with all these little friends to play with!"

Today was going to be a good day.

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The backyard was filled with the joyful sounds of laughter and conversation. You took a moment to step away from the festivities and went to the outdoor bar to mix a refreshing drink for yourself. As you poured the liquid into a glass, you felt a tug on your shirt.

Looking down, you saw Freddie, the son of Louis, standing beside you, his eyes filled with concern. "Hey there, Freddie," you greeted him with a smile. "What's up?"

Freddie fidgeted slightly, then spoke in a soft voice. "Charley is crying. He wants you."

Your heart melted at Freddie's words. You put down the drink and followed him, eager to tend to Charley's needs. As you made your way through the crowd, you reached your son, who was sitting on a picnic blanket with tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

Kneeling down, you enveloped Charley in a comforting hug. "Hey, sweetheart. What's the matter?"

Charley hiccupped, sniffling. "Mommy, I want milk."

You smiled, understanding his request. "Alright, Charley. Let's go somewhere quiet, just you and me."

Scooping Charley into your arms, you made your way upstairs, finding a peaceful space where you could nurse him.

You settled into the comfortable rocking chair, feeling a sense of calm and connection wash over you. As you adjusted your position, Charley looked up at you, his tiny hand reaching for your chest.

"Mommy, milk?" Charley asked, his voice filled with innocence and longing.

You smiled, recognizing the familiar request. "Of course, my love. We can have some quiet time together."

When it came to breastfeeding your little Charley, you and Harry agreed that you wouldn’t stop breastfeeding until he decided to stop himself. You wanted Charley to wean himself, you didn’t want to force him to stop when he ultimately didn’t want to.

Charley snuggled closer, his little fingers tracing patterns on your arm. As you guided him to your breast, the room filled with a peaceful silence, save for the soft sounds of breathing and the rhythmic swaying of the chair.

Charley latched on, and you could feel his gentle sucking, a reminder of the incredible bond between mother and child. The world around you seemed to fade away as you focused on this precious moment shared between the two of you.

Charley's eyes met yours, his gaze filled with warmth and comfort. "Mommy, I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You kissed the top of his head, the words melting your heart. "I love you too, my sweet Charley. More than words can express."

The room filled with a serene ambiance as you continued to breastfeed, the soft rhythm of his swallowing bringing a sense of peace and contentment. Time seemed to stand still as you embraced the simplicity and beauty of this intimate connection.

You stayed rubbing soft circles onto his back as he continued to suck on your nipple, Beverly thing was peaceful until a foul smell made its way into your nose.

Chuckling softly, you whispered to Charley, "Oh, little one, it seems we have one more task to tackle."

You tapped his diaper clad bum through the material of his overalls and watched as he unlatched from your breast, a clear indication that he was finished eating and giggled, head thrown back slightly.

Charley giggled, his laughter filling the room. "Di-di!" he replied, pointing to his bottom.

You nodded, reaching for the wipes and fresh diaper. "That's right, Charley. Let's get you all cleaned up."

As you began to remove Charley's soiled diaper, he kicked his little legs in excitement. "Tickle, Mommy!" he squealed.

Gently tickling his tummy, you joined in his infectious laughter. "Tickle, tickle! You're such a funny little one, Charley."

As you wiped away the mess with care, Charley's curiosity got the better of him. "What's that, Mommy?" he asked, pointing to the diaper rash cream.

"This is some special cream, Charley," you explained, showing him the tube. "It helps to keep your skin nice and protected."

Charley nodded with wide eyes, clearly intrigued. "Skin nice!" he repeated, mimicking your words.

With the old diaper disposed of and Charley's bottom all cleaned up, you unfolded a fresh diaper and expertly slipped it under him. Charley couldn't resist reaching for the tabs, eager to help. "Me do it!" he exclaimed proudly.

You smiled, allowing him to try and fasten the diaper himself. "Good job, Charley! You're becoming such a big boy."

Charley beamed with pride, his little hands fumbling with the tabs. "Big boy!" he repeated, pleased with his accomplishment.

Once the diaper was securely fastened, you scooped Charley into your arms and peppered his cheeks with kisses. "All done, my little love," you said, cuddling him close. "You're clean and fresh again."

Once he was all clean, the two of you made your way back down stairs and made your way into the garden, a smile appearing on your face as you saw all your friends and family having their own conversations in the garden.

Charley was set upon the floor and within seconds he was racing towards his Aunt Gemma, Nana Anne and Grandpa Des, who must have arrived when the two of you were up stairs.

Making your way over to where Amelia was sitting, you plonked yourself down in one of the chairs at the outdoor dining table and offered her a smile.

The two of you shared a comfortable patio set, sipping on refreshing drinks and immersed in conversation.

Amelia smiled warmly, her eyes filled with genuine interest. "So, how's everything going with your family? I heard you and Harry were considering moving to a new place?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "Yes, we've been thinking about finding a new home, one that fits our growing family. Charley is getting bigger by the day, and we want to create a space where he can flourish."

Amelia leaned in, her voice filled with curiosity. "That sounds exciting! Have you found any potential houses yet?"

You looked around the lush garden, your eyes scanning the playful scene before you. Harry was engaged in a lively game of football with Charley, Louis, Freddie, Zayn, Khai, Liam, Bear, and Niall. Laughter and shouts filled the air, mingling with the clashing of soccer balls.

"Well, not yet," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. "But with all these wonderful friends and family around, it's hard not to feel at home. We've created a little community right here."

Amelia's gaze followed yours, and she chuckled. "You're absolutely right. It's heartwarming to see everyone coming together like this. Speaking of which, how has your relationship with Harry been lately?"

 You took a moment to watch Harry, his face beaming with joy as he played with Charley and the rest of the group. "Harry has been an amazing partner and father," you said, your voice filled with adoration. "He's always there for us, and seeing him with Charley, it fills my heart with so much love and gratitude."

Amelia nodded, a soft smile on her face. "That's beautiful. Niall is the same way with me. I couldn't ask for a better partner. We've been through so much together, and his love and support mean the world to me."

As your conversation continued, you noticed Anne, Harry's mother, walking towards the garden. She carried a tray of freshly baked cookies, her face radiant with happiness. Behind her trailed Gemma, Harry's sister, and Desmond, his father.

Anne's eyes sparkled as she approached, her voice filled with warmth. "Hello, dears! I couldn't resist bringing some treats for everyone. It's lovely to see you all enjoying the day."

Gemma and Desmond joined the gathering, their smiles mirroring Anne's joy. The garden became alive with laughter and conversations, a true celebration of family and friendship.

You turned back to Amelia, both of you taking in the beautiful scene. "We're truly blessed, aren't we?" you mused, your voice filled with gratitude. "To have such incredible people in our lives, to witness these precious moments... It's a reminder of how fortunate we are."

Amelia nodded, her eyes shining with appreciation. "Absolutely. These moments, the love we share, are the foundation that makes life meaningful. I'm so grateful for the connection we all have."

With Anne and Gemma bidding their goodbyes and returning inside, the atmosphere shifted slightly, creating a more intimate setting between you and Amelia. The sound of children's laughter and the occasional thud of the football being kicked provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation.

Amelia took a sip of her drink before turning to you with a mischievous grin. "So, have you and Harry been considering any exciting plans for the future? Any big adventures or dreams you're pursuing?"

You chuckled, a spark of excitement igniting within you. "Funny you should ask! Harry and I have actually been discussing the idea of building our own little dream house. We've been searching for the perfect plot of land and envisioning what our ideal home would look like."

That was true, you and Harry had lived in your current London house for just over seven years together now, two years as a family and the other month, you had both shared a conversation about wanting to potentially expand the family and move house some time in the future.

You remember when you told Harry that you wanted to expand your family and the look on his face was priceless.

As the moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, you lay in bed next to your husband, Harry, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. There was something on your mind, something you had been contemplating for a while, and tonight felt like the right time to share it.

It was one of those quiet nights when deep conversations seemed to find their way to the surface, and you knew it was the perfect moment to share the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind.

Turning towards Harry, you mustered up the courage to speak your heart. "Harry, I've been thinking a lot lately, and I want to talk to you about something important."

His eyes met yours, his face reflecting a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "What is it, love? You know you can tell me anything."

Taking a deep breath, you gazed into his eyes, finding solace in his unwavering support. "I want us to have another baby, Harry. I know we have busy schedules, with your touring and album projects, but I can't help but feel the longing to expand our family."

A brief moment of surprise flickered across Harry's face, quickly followed by a cascade of emotions—joy, contemplation, and a hint of concern. His voice was filled with tenderness as he reached for your hand. "Love, that's a beautiful desire, and I understand how important it is to you. Our family means everything to me, and the thought of giving Charley a sibling fills my heart with warmth."

You couldn't help but notice the genuine reflection in his eyes, the way he processed the idea with care. It meant the world to you that he took your feelings to heart.

"But, love," he continued, a touch of uncertainty lacing his words, "I can't deny the demands that come with my career. The touring, the studio time—it can be a whirlwind at times. I want to be there for you and our family as much as I can, but I worry about the balance between my work and family life."

You squeezed his hand, offering him reassurance and understanding. "Harry, I appreciate your honesty, and I understand that your career is a big part of who you are. The fact that you're willing to have this conversation and consider the possibility speaks volumes about your dedication as a husband and a father."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze filled with gratitude. "Thank you, love. It means a lot to me that you see my perspective. I want to be present for our family, to create a nurturing environment, and I'll do my best to strike that balance between my passion and our family life."

His words resonated deep within your heart, affirming the strength of your partnership. Together, you were ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.

You leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Harry, I know it won't always be easy, but I believe in us. We've overcome obstacles before, and with open communication, love, and support, we'll navigate this journey together. We'll find a way to make it work."

You had been looking online for houses around the current area you were in as you didn’t want to live too far from home, but there had been a few lots that you had seen where you could build on.

Created The Styles Dream House.

Amelia's eyes widened with intrigue. "That sounds amazing! Tell me more. What kind of house are you envisioning?"

You leaned in, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "We want a cosy yet spacious home with lots of natural light and a touch of rustic charm. A place where we can create beautiful memories with our family and friends. We've even started looking into eco-friendly features and a garden where we can grow our own fruits and vegetables."

Amelia's excitement mirrored your own. "That sounds like a dream come true! It's wonderful that you and Harry are envisioning a space that reflects your values and allows you to live harmoniously with nature. I can already imagine the warm gatherings and laughter-filled evenings that will take place there."

You nodded, a sense of anticipation bubbling within you. "Exactly! We want it to be a haven for our loved ones—a place where they can feel welcome and cherished. We've been gathering inspiration, creating mood boards, and sharing ideas. It's such an exciting time."

Amelia leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It's incredible how our dreams evolve as we go through different stages of life. I remember when Niall and I used to talk about travelling the world, exploring new cultures and experiences. Now, our dreams are centred around creating a stable and nurturing home for our little one."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the ebb and flow of dreams and priorities. "Life has a way of shifting our focus, doesn't it? But it's a beautiful evolution. Our dreams adapt and align with the chapters we're living, bringing us joy and fulfilment in unexpected ways."

It wasn’t long before the barbecue was ready.

As the delicious aroma of grilled food wafted through the air, you all gathered around the picnic table, ready to enjoy the Father's Day feast. Freddie, Louis' enthusiastic son, proudly held his little notebook and went around, taking everyone's food orders.

Freddie approached Anne with a big smile. "What would you like, Grandma Anne?" he asked, pen poised over the notebook.

Anne chuckled affectionately. "Hmm, I'll have a juicy burger with all the fixings, please. And make it extra special, just like my son here," she said, playfully nudging Harry.

Harry laughed and nodded. "You got it, Mum. One special burger coming right up!"

Freddie moved on to Gemma, who raised an eyebrow teasingly. "What's on the menu for me, young man?"

Freddie grinned mischievously. "Well, Auntie Gemma, I think you need something spicy to match your fiery personality. How about some tangy chicken skewers?"

Gemma pretended to fan herself dramatically. "Oh, Freddie, you know me so well! Chicken skewers it is."

Next, Freddie turned his attention to the rest of the guests. "Alright, Liam, what can I get for you and Bear?"

Liam ruffled Bear's hair affectionately. "We'll have some mouthwatering ribs, Freddie. And don't forget the barbecue sauce!"

Freddie scribbled down the order and moved on to Zayn. "Hey, Uncle Zayn, what's your pick?"

Zayn smiled at his daughter, Khai, who was playing with her toys nearby. "Khai and I will share some tasty grilled vegetables, Freddie. We're keeping it healthy."

Freddie nodded approvingly and wrote down the order. He then approached Niall and Amelia, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Niall, Amelia, what can I put down for you?"

Niall grinned. "I'll take a juicy steak, Freddie, cooked medium-rare, please. And Amelia, what would you like?"

Amelia pondered for a moment. "I'll have a grilled chicken salad, please. Light and refreshing."

Freddie eagerly noted down the orders and made his way back to Harry, who was tending to the grill. "Dad, I've got all the orders ready. You're doing an awesome job, by the way!"

Harry beamed with pride. "Thanks, buddy. You've been a great little helper today."

As the food sizzled on the grill, you joined Charley at the table, helping him cut up his hot dog into bite-sized pieces. Charley's eyes widened with anticipation as he watched the food being prepared.

"Mummy, is it ready yet?" he asked eagerly.

You smiled and nodded. "Almost, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, and then you can have your yummy dinner."

Finally, Harry brought the platter of grilled delights to the table, and everyone's eyes lit up with delight. The air was filled with appreciative murmurs and exclamations of hunger.

Anne took a bite of her burger and savored the flavors. "Harry, darling, you've truly outdone yourself. This burger is absolutely divine."

Harry blushed modestly. "Thanks, Mum. I'm glad you like it."

As everyone dug into their meals, the table came alive with lively conversations. Gemma shared a funny anecdote from Harry's childhood, causing peals of laughter to fill the air.

"Remember that time Harry got stuck in the treehouse?" Gemma exclaimed, pointing at Harry. "We had to call Dad to come and rescue him!"

Desmond chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah,those were the days. Harry always had a knack for finding adventure, even in the simplest of places."

Louis raised his burger, playfully imitating a toast. "To Harry, the ultimate treehouse explorer!"

Everyone joined in, raising their glasses and laughing heartily. Harry blushed but couldn't hide his wide grin.

Amelia turned to Niall, nudging him playfully. "Do you remember the time you and Harry tried to build a secret hideout in the backyard? It ended up looking like a pile of sticks!"

Niall chuckled, a fond twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, how could I forget? We were convinced it was the best hideout ever. But let's just say our architectural skills were lacking."

The table erupted in laughter, the shared memories creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie. Conversations flowed freely, intertwining stories from the past with plans for the future.

Between bites, Liam leaned over to Zayn, teasing him good-naturedly. "Hey, Zayn, remember when we used to prank each other relentlessly? Those were some epic battles!"

Zayn smirked, reminiscing. "Oh, Liam, the pranks we pulled on tour were legendary. The fake spiders, the disappearing clothes—I still have scars from some of your tricks!"

Liam chuckled, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Well, mate, it was all in good fun. Besides, those pranks brought us closer together."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gathering, Harry's dad, Desmond, raised his glass, his voice filled with nostalgia. "To all the fathers here, both present and in our hearts. May we continue to cherish and nurture the beautiful bonds we share with our children."

The clinking of glasses resonated through the air, and everyone raised their voices in agreement, expressing their gratitude for the fathers in their lives.

As the conversation continued to flow, Charley tugged at your sleeve, his eyes sparkling. "Mummy, look! I cut my food all by myself!"

You beamed with pride and pulled him into a gentle hug. "Well done, Charley! You're such a big boy now."

Charley giggled and took another bite, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The table became a symphony of laughter, stories, and the clinking of cutlery, each voice adding to the melody of love and togetherness.

The evening wore on, and as the last rays of sunlight faded, a sense of contentment settled over the gathering. Plates were cleared, and desserts were served—a sweet finale to a memorable Father's Day celebration.

As you sat there, surrounded by loved ones, laughter echoing in the air, you couldn't help but reflect on the joy that filled your heart. Father's Day had become a testament to the strength of the bonds forged through love and shared experiences.

In that moment, amidst the conversations and laughter, you realized that it wasn't just the food that nourished the soul—it was the presence of family and friends, the stories and memories woven into every bite, that made the celebration truly special.

And as the night sky sparkled with stars, you glanced at Harry, his smile radiant, knowing that this Father's Day would forever be etched in your hearts as a day of love, laughter, and cherished moments with those who mattered most.

You turned towards your husband, whose grey tank top was now removed from his body due to the body heat and was sitting next to you with a blissed smile etched into his facial features.

You linked your hands together, the feeling of his wedding ring cooling down your skin ever so slightly. “— Happy Father’s Day, H.”

“Thank you m’love,”he turned towards you, leaning forward ever so slightly and nudged his nose against yours, forgetting everyone else that was around you. It was as if it was just the two of you. “— you made me a father, and for that, I’ll forever be grateful.”

Happy Fathers Day Everyone.

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Beel and mc first date short fic ✨

Our sweet boy Beel deserves all the love <3 Let's gooooo!

Characters: Beel x MC Sharing food as a love language, pure fluff. Did first kiss too, I hope that's okay! No warnings apply

This was a joke, right?  

You were seeing things. You had to be seeing things. 

There was in no way in all the three realms that Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony and Ruler of the Underworld, had just placed half of his gigadeath burger on your plate.  

Half. 0.5. ½.  

You weren’t sure his stomach could handle such deprivation! He was a growing demon! He needed his nutrients! 

“What?” Beel paused his chewing, burger grease dripping down his fingers and onto the checkered parchment paper on the tray before him. “You’re not hungry?” 

Eyes flitting from the burger - the frankly delicious burger oozing premium molten mozzarella, the cheese mingling with the juice pooling from the sizzling meat patty - to his concerned gaze, you wiped the drool from the corner of your lip and shook your head. “It’s not that. It’s just… Don’t you want your whole burger?” 

It was cute, the way he cocked his head to the side. His fiery hair fell into his eyes for a moment, his slow blink drawing your attention to his dark eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest when he lifted his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “I want you to try it. It’s really good.”

“Are you sure?” Your devil nuggets called your name from their carton next to your soda. They were tasty, sure, but that burger looked like something else.

“Yeah,” He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you think we were only coming here tonight?”

The taste flooding your tongue - savory and salty with a crunch from the fixings cradled between two soft buns - was so overwhelming, you didn’t register his words. You were too busy relishing in the richness of the burger as it traveled down your throat and to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It didn’t even bother you that the patty was probably made from some weird Devildom animal that you would usually find unappetizing. The burger was too good to care.

Realization struck you like lightning from above. “Wait, what?”

It was not lost on you how Beel’s indigo gaze traced the tip of your tongue as you licked at the residual taste on your lips. Something unreadable lanced through his irises. Suddenly, it was awfully hard to meet his eyes, your heart firmly lodging itself in your throat. 

Lazily nibbling on his last acidic hell fry, he suggested, “Want to have a campfire?”

“A campfire?” You echoed, ducking your head when you became self-conscious of your dumb expression.

His mind made up, he toweled off his greasy fingers and stood, the stool screeching against the wooden floors of Hell’s Kitchen. “Yeah,” Determination as sharp as his jaw set his brow into a deep furrow. “Come with me.”

Keeping up with Beelzebub on the hunt for food was easier than you had expected. Looming over most demons, his long legs gave him the ability to cover impressive distance with each step. However, you found it wasn’t difficult to wander the streets of the Devildom at his side. Maybe it was the way he moved slowly, with intention, as if he was trying to commit every second of this night to his memory. Maybe it was his big heart, always so considerate of those he cared about. 

Maybe he was looking out for you, just as you always looked out for him. There was a reason you kept snacks on your person at all times, after all. 

It had come as a surprise when Beel had requested your attendance for an impromptu dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. You had been drowning in homework, the sharp knock on your bedroom door startling you from your third attempt to actually absorb the words on the page in front of you. 

“Hey, dinner tonight?” He had asked, so casually as if it was any other day.

“Sure,” You had smiled.

“Cool,” He had beamed that dazzling Beelzebub grin that stretched wide across his face. The one where you could count all of his sharp teeth. The one that creased his eyes into crescent moons and made your stomach twist into a pretzel. “It’s a date.”

You were pretty sure it had taken you at least five minutes to process the bomb he had dropped on you upon his exit. Another fifteen to find a suitable outfit - casual and comfortable, but also nice, you know? And you couldn’t possibly discount the solid forty minutes spent worrying over whether he was joking or being serious. 

When he had met you in the entrance hall clad in his best jeans and a flattering, nice sweater, you felt the relief inflate your chest like a helium balloon. 

And really, you still felt like you were walking on air. Even as you stood in the snacks aisle of a Devildom bodega, shying away from the unflattering glare of overhead fluorescent lights as Beel rifled through foil packaging with an intensity that you long learned accompanied his hunger. 

He fought you tooth and nail at the register, amusement dancing upon his lips. “Why should you pay?”

“Because you bought dinner,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as if it would possibly make you more intimidating in the eyes of the 6’4” demon. 

“Hmmm,” he mulled over your argument for a millisecond, just to lean down and blow a raspberry in your face. He smirked, “Nope.”

It caught you off guard, your face burning as bright as a screaming tomato. Brattiness was usually Belphie’s expertise. 

Mischief melting into soft affection in his indigo gaze, fixed to you as the bodega clerk processed his payment, he ventured, “What if… you cover our next date?”

You liked the way the tips of his ears flushed, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shot you a sheepish, albeit genuine, smile. 

“I think that would be fair.” A tickle spread across your cheeks, scrunching your nose and burning your skin. 

Though, the heat from your flush had nothing on the warmth of the flames lapping at the inky Devildom sky. The embers shot like fireflies reaching for the stars, the campfire crackling within the confines of the pit, lined by rocks that would dwarf even Beelzebub’s palm. It had come as a surprise when Beel had led you off the beaten path, guiding you to a clearing in a forest not too far from the House of Lamentation. However, the secret fire pit made a lot more sense when he explained that it was typically reserved for stargazing with Belphie. 

“Are those… rice krispie squares?” You asked, the pop of an adhesive seam wafting vanilla your way.

“They’re crackling mallow bars,” Beel corrected, though there was no judgment in his tone. He had this way of introducing you to Devildom cuisine in a manner that felt familiar, like he understood that there were a lot of similarities between the dishes you knew. “They’re made up of marshmallows and these crispy marrow bits that are caramelized and -”

“Do they taste sweet?” You suppressed a grimace at the unappetizing description.

He chucked, the sound oozing reassurance, “Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” As he retrieved two long sticks, splitting into sharp prongs at the tip, nostalgia hit you like a truck. You hummed, “I used to eat something like this all the time when I was little.”

He raised a brow. “You’re still little.”

“Very funny.”

He laughed. Peeling the wrapper from two treats, he secured both on the ends of the sticks. “Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?” 

“I never considered that. They would melt pretty fast, wouldn’t they?”

“You would think so,” He passed you a stick, eyes warm with encouragement and something akin to childlike awe, “But they actually hold up for a while.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Just you and Beel and the chirps of the hell crickets in the undergrowth. It was hard to pay attention to the way the sweet bars darkened, a char climbing up the chunks of… marrow, or whatever… when you could feel Beel’s eyes on you. 

When you met his gaze, he was ready, already pulling the snack from his stick. “Here, try this.”

The marshmallow near compromised, the dessert fell apart in his large hands. Beel’s fingers tangled in sticky sweetness, you gasped in delight as strings of sugar stretched towards you with his gesture. “Oh, it’s so gooey!” 

His smile was so big, so warm, and you had the sudden thought that if you were in Icarus’s shoes, you too would fly too close to the sun. He went to feed you the treat, laughing, “Open wide!”

The explosion of flavor on your tongue - hot and sweet with that smoky campfire accent - had you squirming in delight, a thrilled hum vibrating in your throat. You were grateful that Beel thought to remove your stick from the fire. You were far too occupied with your new favorite snack to notice it about to ignite. 

Beel’s laughter died, his brow furrowing as conflict eclipsed the joy in his gaze. You looked to him, confused. “What?”

Had he always been that close? Had he been watching you with such longing this entire time?

“You’ve got a bit of marshmallow…” His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, eyes zeroing in on your lips. “Can I?”

You nodded. Your mouth was so dry, your pulse in your ears. With his nose nudging yours, you could taste the sweetness of the marshmallow treat on his breath, feel the way you were drawn closer like sticky sugar insistent on holding you together. 

His lips brushed yours - soft and chaste. It was funny how a kiss so gentle could hold so much weight. Featherlight, a tender brush, and yet you felt as though the prints of his lips were engraved on yours forevermore. 

“Mmm, tastes extra good,” he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over your skin, his eyes reading your soul as you leaned in to kiss him again. A peck to his lips, to his nose, to the apples of his cheeks.  

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured, reveling in his proximity, his radiant warmth. 

“Trying all my favorite foods off your lips,” He smiled, the twitch of his lips slotting against yours with such ease. “Think we could try that?”

“Sure,” You laughed, “It’s a date.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

this is low-key a love letter to burgers. My requests are open! Find more info HERE. Banner by @4laurus. Check out her work - and also her Beel.