#my mum's been on sick leave for a YEAR

[pseudophan]

my aunt's being a cunt so now my mum's sobbing in the living room everything is so awesome all of the time

[mohammed-alhabil]

URGENT HELP 🙏 "Please help my sick son before its too late, he needs 2000$ as urgent help for the healthy food, tent and other necessaries" 🙏

⚠️⚠️New worse update "9th, Dec: 🙏🙏I appeal to every living conscience and merciful heart to look at us with mercy and hasten to help us and alleviate our suffering.🙏🙏 Please don't leave my sick son Ahmed alone.🥹🥹⚠️⚠️

💔My sick son is starving, he's getting worse, his disease worsen his health.💔 The donations we've received so far is too low, I haven't managed to buy a new waterproof tent, blankets and clothes for my sick son, he is quivering daily, feeling very cold .

Also I can't buy necessaries, it's unimaginably expensive, the price of flour 25 kg is about 300$. Imagine that we haven't eaten even a loaf of bread for ages, vegetables are about 15$- 20$/kg.

Previous update: My sick son is in dire need of your help and donations, 18 days with total donations of 482€, 😞😞his curren disease worsen his health more and more and his immunity has become more fragile, taking into consideration that the weather is extremely cold in the tent.😞😞 My little son Ahmed needs your help to get better.⚠️⚠️

🙏🙏I'm sure you won't let him alone, so come on, help him and donate kindly🙏🙏

🚨🚑🚨Please help my innocent sick son evacuate from Gaza, his health status is on the line.🚨🚑🚨

🙏🙏♥️My little innocent son Ahmad wants to convey a message "through a video👇" for you, hoping that it touches your compassionate hearts and donate to help him.🙏🙏♥️

Hi! I'm Mohammed Al-Habil,31 years old. I have a family of 3 members.

I'm from Gaza but I've got displaced so many times from Gaza. I've got injured in the first week of this ongoing war, since that time I've been forced to leave my home to UNRWA center as a shelter. The nightmare hasn't finished, my dad has got killed in the fourth month of the war, leaving my mum and two sisters so we've taken responsibility of them in addition to my family.

This nightmare "war" has taken everything, my dad, my work, my belongings, my home which has been destroyed, my peaceful life, my peace of mind, everything!

We live in extremely hard circumstances. We have no water, no healthy food, no electricity, no healthy place, no source of money, no health care, nothing!

We live in an unhealthy environment full of diseases. I live in a tent that neither protects us from sunshines nor protects us from rain. I need a new waterproof tent which costs 1000$, my current tent is made from clothes, it doesn't protect us from rain and cold, I'm sure you'll help.

I've faced so many diseases including hepatitis and viral infection "causing fever" due to unhealthy food and environment. The food we eat is canned food although it is unhealthy and expensive.

In addition to that, my wife has faced hepatitis due to dirty bathrooms, unhealthy food and unhealthy environment we live in.

In addition to that my little innocent son, 2 years and 10 months old, has had an operation on his eyes. In brief, my life has become a miserable nightmare!

⚠️🚑Urgent medical update about my little innocent son, his health status is getting worse and worse.🚨 Recently my little son has visited the clinic, he has been suffering from a urinary tract infection "he has taken a medicine, co-trimoxazole" and this is as a result of the only canned food he eats because we can't buy healthy food.🚑⚠️

We are about to face famine, basic goods are extremely expensive even vegetables are extremely expensive and we can hardly find them.

Some kinds of food aren't available, for example, egg, baby formula, frozen meat, bottles of water. Prices are higher nowadays.

👉👉👉My campaign "pinned post" has been shared by @sayruq @a-shade-of-blue @gazavetters , so it's completely legitimate.👈👈👈

🚨⚠️Btw, my current vetted campaign is moving extremely slowly, donations are very few, low funds, so could you spread my vetted campaign and donate even little amount of money?

😞517€ out of 50k€ after 21 days😔⚠️🚨

We need more donations. Please boost my fundraiser "campaign".

My campaign is ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #298 )✅️

So please donate and help my little son and family.

Your donation helps us!

@90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @nabulsi @neptunerings @flower-tea-fairies @appsa @a-shade-of-blue @sar-soor @commissions4aid-international @paper-mario-wiki @dlxxv-vetted-donations @writerqueenofjewels @the-ballerina-battle @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @girlinafairytale @khangerinedreams @maoistyuri @dykesbat @acepumpkinpatrick @thetownwecallhome @tsaricides @feluka @brutaliakhoa @kordeliiius @queerstudiesnatural @the-bastard-king @aria-ashryver @malcriada @vakarians-babe @bat-luun @mangocheesecakes @violetlyra @nightowlssleep @self-hating-zionist @staretes @friendshapedplant @yokohama-crackhouse @omiteo777

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[yasministration]

A motherly visit - son!harry potter

summary: when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit wc: 1.5k+

Irritation flooded through yours veins, your eye nearly twitching with annoyance as you read through Harry’s letter. Once again, your son had been unfairly treated by his Potions teacher, graded lower on his exams and essays than he deserved. Your chair scraped loudly on the floor of your potions lab as you pushed it out from under your desk, grabbing your coat as you made your way to the fireplace in your office.

You wiped down your clean hands on the soft fabric of your coat before grabbing a handful of floo powder and travelling to Professor McGonagall’s office. As the green flames died away, revealing your confident stance, Professor McGonagall blinked slowly, only mildly surprised to find you in her office. “I need to find my son so we can have a chat with Professor Snape.” The older woman opened her mouth to reply, but you were already walking out of her office. She sighed, leaving you to your own devices in the rogue hallways of the Hogwarts castle.

Luckily for you, a loud call of “Mum!” had you stopping in your tracks and spinning on the balls of your feet to see Harry jogging towards you, his book bag flapping uncontrollably at his side. Harry gripped the strap of his back, holding it snugly against his jumper clad chest as he ran towards you with a smile. Ron and Hermione immediately quickened their pace to catch up with their friend, who threw his arms out to engulf you in a tight hug.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You mumbled, lips pressed against Harry’s forehead as you wrapped your arms around him. “What are you doing here?” He questioned excitedly, adjusting his glasses in a way that instantly reminded you of your husband. “I got your letter.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “I sent you that like an hour ago!”

“And I’m sick of hearing about how your incompetent Professor keeps poorly grading your papers, which I know deserve higher grades on.” You huffed angrily, putting both your hands on your hips. “You have your papers on you, don’t you?” Harry nodded, immediately ruffling through his book bag. You winced at the sight of loose papers in the bag but looked away, instead busying yourself by greeting your son’s two best friends. Harry made a noise of achievement as he pulled out two separate stacks of papers, presenting them to you with a smile. You scanned through them quickly as he explained “That’s my essay on the uses of mandrake plants in advanced potion making, and then that’s our most recent end of unit test.” “Well, come along then, Harry.”

“Mum, I’ve got a lesson now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your Professor will understand I’m on a time crunch.” Your heels clicked loudly against the concrete floors, heads of students turning to look at you curiously. That would probably be one of two reasons: 1. You were a parent who had no business currently being at Hogwarts. 2. You were the most successful potioneer of your generation, specialising in poisons and their remedies, with a success so prominent that every potions student in Year 5 and above stared at your name on the cover of their potions textbooks every time they used it.

The chilly atmosphere of the dungeon welcomed you as you made a beeline to the potions classroom. Harry’s thoughts were racing as he tried predicting what you were going to tell Professor Snape, holding your son’s exam papers in hand.

Luckily for you, Snape had just exited his classroom, opening his mouth to let his students into the dark room, when he spotted you. His eyes were immediately clouded with annoyance, but something else lingered in his gaze. “Snape,” You started, glancing at the group of students waiting to be called into their classrooms. “I suggest you give your students a free period. We have things to discuss.” You didn’t wait for Snape to respond, pushing past him to walk into his classroom. You settled your things down on a table near Snape’s desk, standing up behind the uncomfortable stools. “Take a seat, sweetheart.” Harry smiled gently as you returned your gaze to him, eyes softening as they took him in. You pushed a rogue strand of hair away from his face before turning around to meet Snape’s eye as he trudged towards you.

“You realise it’s been almost twenty years, right?” Harry wasn’t expecting those to be your first words. “So I suggest you get over your little crush on me and your hatred towards my husband, because my son is facing the consequences of your feelings.” Harry gasped at the revelation, his eyes wide with shock. He pursed his lips suddenly to suppress his laughter.

Snape hated him because he was jealous of Harry’s father?

You turned over Harry’s papers to face the Professor. “Look me in the eye and tell me you believe these deserve a Poor.” Snape looked up, making solid eye contact with you, though he didn’t say anything. “Y/N-” “It’s Mrs. Potter to you, Snape.”

The long-haired Professor inhaled deeply. “Mrs. Potter, I strongly believe that your son’s papers deserve the grades they were awarded.” You hummed, entirely unconvinced. Pushing Harry’s essay to the side, you flipped his exam paper open. “Then we seriously need to question your teaching. Green pen, please.” Snape grumbled quietly as he stood up walking to his desk to retrieve a green pen for you, placing it in your extended hand.

“Let’s see.” You spoke under your breath, moving around the table to stand next to Snape. The next few minutes were dreadfully tense for Harry, watching as Snape spent most of the time looking at the side of your face rather than the paper, where you were adding small check marks next to Harry’s answers. When you reached the end of the paper, you flicked back to the beginning, counting the marks in a quiet whisper.

“You’ve given my son an 18/50. The mark he should have gotten is a 39. Not an outstanding by any means, but still two entire grades above the one you gave him.” Harry swallowed thickly as you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest whilst you stared down Professor Snape.

“Keep up with this prejudice against my son and I promise, you will come out of a job.” Snape scoffed, finally saying “You act as though anyone will take your word over mine.” Your genuine laugh surprised Harry. “You can stop pretending you think they’ll choose you over me. We both know Professor Dumbledore has been begging me to take this position for, what, four years now?” All colour drained from Professor Snape’s face as you revealed that information. You walked around the hopeless professor to place a hand on your son’s shoulder.

“Who knows, maybe next year I’ll take his offer?” You leaned closer to Professor Snape, bringing your voice down to a whisper. “If I don’t hear that you’ve changed my son’s grade by tomorrow, I promise, worse things will happen to you than losing your job." You straightened up, clearing your throat before adding "Who knows, maybe I’ll even send my husband to visit you.”

Harry revelled in the way Snape shuddered at the mention of his father. He didn’t bother hiding his smile at Snape’s reaction to your friendly threat, holding his hand out for you to hold as you gathered your things. You took Harry’s hand, guiding him out of the room with a satisfied smile. “Is it true they asked you to come work here?” You nodded with a hum.

“Why didn’t you take the offer?” You turned to look at Harry’s hopeful eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. “I didn’t want to be invasive. I mean, I know for a fact I wouldn’t have wanted my parents to hear every rumour that was spread, or know every time I got into trouble. That would be inevitable if I worked here, and, you know, I want you to have some freedom.”

“Well, what if you came next year?” You stopped in your tracks at Harry’s question, turning to look at him properly. “You know, it’ll be my last year, so I’d have had my freedom, and you’ll be a great teacher for everyone. And I guess it would be nice having you around.” Harry’s cheeks were flushed pink and your heart warmed as you realised the true reason for his request. He missed you and his dad.

“Okay.”

“Okay!?” Harry jumped up at your agreement, laughing joyously. “But!” “But?” Harry echoed, sounding slightly horrified. “I’ll still live at home. I won’t stay here overnight like some Professors do. We’re just one apparation from home anyway. But I guess I’ll stay here until late afternoon if I have to mark papers.” Harry grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders to bring you into a tight hug. You laughed, eyes widening as you realised he was looming over you despite the heels you wore. “Harry, honey, you are getting too tall.” The boy shrugged as he let go of you. “Madame Pomfrey said I’m still growing. I’ve still got a couple of inches ‘til I catch up to dad anyway.”

“He won’t be too happy about that, but the two of you can argue about it at dinner tomorrow, yeah? I’ll send McGonagall an owl to let her know. Just come by using floo.”

“Ooh and can we play a game of Quidditch after?”

“Only if you’re willing to lose.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin

[rasberrybabez]

Baby Bump

Simon has made plenty of mistakes in his life, one of them being leaving you for another hookup. But when he shows up again, baby in hand and a duffel bag in the other, what can you do?

Because even if that baby isn’t your, it certainly feels like it is. Only when Simon’s there.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Tags: technically baby trapping, parenting, single parents/co parents, reference to parental neglect, details relating to breastfeeding, pregnancy symptoms, smut (eventually), reference to previous injuries during intercourse (not between characters), tension that doesn’t quite count as angst but is tense enough to raise some eyebrows, second chance romance 🩵

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

XoXo-Razz.writes

The next week was a blur.

Simon and you were tense at first, of course. Living with your ex and his son that isn’t yours, what else did you expect? But slowly, through those fateful seven days, you grow.

And seven turns into more.

You and Simon had sat down on the couch at the end of those seven days, the sun setting outside your window and casting a soft yellow hue over everything. A glass of wine in your hands, a mug of tea in Simon’s.

Soft silence fills the room, Simon sipping his tea. Watching you as you watch the sun sink lower and lower over the horizon.

And then he speaks.

“…I’m sorry, Sunshine.”

You look up, hair slipping from your messy bun and falling over your face, lashes fluttering in surprise. Simon is still staring at you, studying you. And you swear you can see his hands tighten on his mug, tension coiled in his body.

You clear your throat. “…thank you, Simon. I-It doesn’t fix things… the way you left it. But I appreciate it.”

Curse you and how easily you gave in. Simon left you for another woman’s kid, and fuck does that hurt. It burns your soul up like some sick little pyre of his love. The love that’s long rotted and decayed, some discarded scarps of meat not good enough for a sacrifice.

Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s just you and the way you cling to him in the last few weeks of what used to be. The way you wanted more because you swear he did too.

You take a sip of whine, trying to swallow the harsh reality that’s been crippling you for a week now.

Simon sips his tea again too, and you’re both back to silence.

“…I loved you when I left, Sunshine. Fuck…” Simon takes in a shaky breath, hands trembling and mind screaming with the words he can’t say. I still do. “But I din’ want to let Kai down… before ‘e was even born. My dad had eighteen fucking years to make himself better for me and Tommy, and ‘e went and fucked it all up.”

You pause as soon as the word love leaves his mouth, hands stilling on your wine glass. Simon meets your eyes, soft hazel and rimmed with the same deep brown as his morning coffee.

He loved you.

“…kind of shitty to tell me now, Si.”

he clears his throat and nod. “I-I know… just thought you should know. That I didn’t want to leave you… that you were never really just a hookup. Not at the end.”

You nod again, taking another sip of wine, and another. Until your glass is empty.

Simon Riley tends to up your alcohol consumption.

“…you’re not like him, you know that Si.”

You say after a few minutes of more tense silence. Over the years, Simon has told you more and more about his father. Opened up in the soft nights that you had together, wrapped your hair around his fingers as he whispered in your ears.

Told you that not all the scars he had were physical, not all of them from the military. That deep down, a little boy had gotten hurt first. A little boy that was scared that every time he drank, he would hurt you. Stayed away from alcohol unless things were bad, never smoked around women.

And you had listened.

“…I think I am.”

Simons voice is so hoarse it surprises you. His hands have a deathly grip on his mug, and he looks so damn stressed it makes your heart clench. He looks desperate.

“…Kai don’ have a mum, sunshine. I’m livin’ in the spare bedroom of the woman whose life I fucked up, and my kid has one failed fucking parent.”

“Simon-”

“No. You know it’s true.” Simon stands from his seat, brushing off his pants and walking swiftly to the kitchen. You hear the sound of the sink turning on, and his mug being set onto a dirty plate. “You know I’m a fuck up. Kai doesn’t have a stable place to live, I’m strugglin’ to find a job, I can’t work with a babe that small, I just-”

“Stay.”

You say, one sharp word with a shaky breath. Wine glass clenched so hard in your hand that you’re scared it will break. Curse your stupid heart and curse that part of your mind that still loves Simon Riley, and is slowly starting to love his baby like the gift he is.

Kai sleeps quietly, in a cot next to Simon’s bed, down the hall from yours. He sits on the rug and coos as he shows you his toys, his favorite one a soft, plushie dinosaur. He can’t walk or crawl, but he can babble.

He nestles into your breasts when he’s hungry, paws at them like he knows he wants food from there, like he knows that some mother has to take care of him. Simon watches as you feed him, a sense of awe in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

So you shouldn’t be surprised when you let your thoughts slip out your mouth, but you’re too far gone now.

“…you know I can’t. We agreed a week, this is your damn house-”

“Stay, Si.”

“No, sunshine. We can’t-”

“Simon.” You say sternly, standing from the couch and turning around, locking eyes with him and where he stand in the kitchen. “Stay. You said it yourself, you can’t raise a kid out on the streets with no job. So stay, don’t go bouncing around from couch to couch, you have everything you need here. Get a job, rent a place. Then you can go.”

“Sunshine.”

“I’m not arguing. And I’m going to feed Kai.”

Within the next two months, you and Simon work out the kinks in your relationship. Not fast, just day by day. Learning to work with eachother, instead of around.

And when Kai starts crawling? You crash into eachothers arms like it’s normal again. Simon presses a kiss to your forehead, laughing with you as Kai coos from the ground. Claps his hands happily, giggles like he knows what’s going on.

Simon starts taking you out for dinner, Kai strapped into the little buggy that he can push around. You three sit at the table like a proper family, and somehow, you start to feel like one.

Whilst you look over the menu, Simon passes Kai one of his stuffed toys. A little bluebird that you picked out, one that Simon noted looked like the color of your soft blue door.

You have to admit he’s right.

You scan the menu, sighing and biting your lip as you look over the options. Simon is watching you, like he always does, a cautious eye studying the way you move. The way your nails tap against the side of the table, thinking.

Fuck, you’re as beautiful as the day he left.

He regrets it more than he should, leaving you. He loves Kai… and he’s trying to be there for him, he is. But who was there for you… was there anyone?

He clears his throat, and you look up.

“You never told me… never told me what you did. When I was gone.”

“When you left.” You correct him, looking back down at the menu. You could go for some fish and chips right now, for sure. “And what do you mean?”

Simon clears his throat again, rubbing the back of his neck. Kai starts to chew on his plush.

“Yeah… yeah, I know… I mean like, did you have a boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend?”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes as they dart up to Simon. He looks out of place and awkward, more so than you’ve ever seen him before. It’s almost… laughable.

“If I had a boyfriend, you would have noticed by now.”

“Right… um-”

“And I got with one guy, the night after you left. Got drunk, fucked a stranger like it would save me from having to think about you, and didn’t go for it again.”

Simon nods, picking up the menu after you, and looking over the options. Fish and chips… nice. “…why not?”

“I got hurt. Tore something… my lining, I think? I’m not sure, but I-”

“He hurt you?”

You look up, your nonchalant attitude starkly different from the way Simon has frozen in place. Stopped, muscles locked and jaw ticking with the force of his teeth. Your brows furrow, because you can read Simon like a book.

He’s furious.

Some fucker touched you, and that could be excused given Simon’s behavior. Was he happy about it? No.

But the fucker hurt you? Hurt you in a space only Simon wanted to be in?

“It was just an accident-”

“He could have killed you.”

You scoff, the crease between your brows deepening as you frown. Your arms cross, and the waitress notices your table. You’ll have to talk quick.

“it’s sex, not deadly-”

“But it could have been-”

“Hey! What can I get you two eat and drink?”

You both pause, simmering at each other in a slow burning sort of anger that sinks in a haze across the booth. You brush off your old injuries in a way that Simon hates, and he digs them back up with an intensity that you despise.

The waitress is oblivious to your obvious tension, all happy and smiling. Simon clears his throat, rubbing his temples and glancing back at the menu.

“Fish and chips.”

“Fish and chips.”

Your voices overlap with the same words, making your focuses shift to eachother. Simon’s harsh gaze softens slightly as the waitress nods, and Simon orders a cup of fruit for Kai, in case he wants to try some.

When she leaves, you’re left in a tense silence, Simons gaze taking up and down your body. You’re not wearing something overly dressy, just a pair of jeans and an oversized shirt. It might be his, having ended up in the wash in a recent load.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

“…I’m sorry. I overstepped, that’s not…” his hands clench, and his jaw ticks. The eyes previously tracing your figure drop down to the table. “That’s not my place anymore.”

You nod, sipping on one of the glasses of water in front of you, unsure if it’s yours or Simon’s.

“…thank you.” You sit there in another beat of silence, Kai cooing softly and patting his hands against his high chair tray. An unusually quiet baby, you think suspiciously. And this time, it’s you who breaks that quiet, your voice soft.

“…this all feels… weird. It’s new, but at the same time it’s just like… before.”

Before.

What a small word for how heavy it feels in your chest, settling down like a dead weight. The way you used to know Simon, talking and laughing in the kitchen still in your sleep clothes, early mornings and late nights pressed up against the counter.

Now you both laugh as you try to feed Kai, popping your new vitamins into your mouth and making that face Simon loves at their taste. The soft bumps and touches against exposed skin in the haze of the morning, Simon running off to job interviews and you running around late for a work call.

The little gifts Simon litters around now. Flowers, no longer the roses you used to know but baby’s breath and lilies, sweet and soft scents that match the coziness of your flat. Tidying the kitchen before your home, keeping a pad full of everything you’ve ever ordered from takeout places, so that he knows the best meal for the two of you.

“I don’t know what this is, Simon. C-Co-parenting a kid that isn’t mine with my ex, letting him-you-live in my spare bedroom. And I love Kai-” like your own son, you realize. The little boy has imprinted on you in more ways than one, but you don’t say that. “-and he’s a sweet boy, but don’t you understand how it is-”

“Sunshine.” Simon says, and suddenly his tough hands are on yours. You don’t realize how panicked you’ve gotten, all worked up into a tizzy with a messy mind and trembling hands. Simon meets your eyes, and slowly your body starts to relax. “It’s not normal. I know… we’ve never been normal. You were never a normal hookup to me and I coped with it by hookin’ up with the first pretty lass I could find.”

He swallows hard, glancing at Kai as his hand tightens on yours. He’s never bared himself open to someone like he has to you, never let someone love him or his son like he’s let you.

“I don’t regret Kai… how could I? Look at the lil’ man, he’s a looker.”

That forces a shocked giggle out of you, your lips suddenly quirking into a slight, reflexive grin. Simon meets your eyes again, his own smile soft and… somber.

“…I regret you thinking he’s not as much yours as he is mine.”

Simons words bounce around in your head like a marble, rolling and clicking against the sides of your skull as you try to wrap your mind around it. The words he said so casually that mean so much, that make your heart race as you look at the little boy at the table.

Kai giggles up at you, reaching out for you. The woman who now, is helping to raise him. The one he won’t have to remember as some co-parent stranger.

To Simon, you’re already his mum.

“…I don’t deserve you, Sunshine. I never will. But I’m willing to try and be the man I want to be for you, because I won’t let one fuck up define us. I still love you.

You can’t breathe. Someone had to shut of the oxygen supply to your body because there’s no other reason why your lungs shouldn’t be able to expand, just from a few words.

Four words, that shouldn’t exist. It’s too much, it’s sending your mind into a detrimental spiral of spinning and overwhelming and convulsing. You can’t process it, no normal person should be able to.

You need to breathe.

You’re out of the booth before you can register, hands grabbing your bag. Hurriedly, as Simon’s eyes go wide and the realization slowly sets in, his shoulders slump. He can’t do anything but watch you, he can’t overstep. He can’t say anything because at the end of the day, he’s the one that fucked up.

You grab a twenty from your bag, throwing it on the table. A ten too, for good measure as you back away with shaky steps.

“F-for the food, I’m sorry-I need air-I-Sorry-”

you can’t force anything else out as your vision blurs, and you push onto the street. The brisk evening air hitting your face, flushing your skin with the contrast of your heated body and frigid sky.

And you sprint, as fast as you can, to the train station.

˖°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･-Taglist:

archy25, despairinglakepasta, coolvoidfire, daydreamsarerealineed, magicwriterinspo

[celestialprincesse]

Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰

John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.

They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.

Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.

Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.

He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.

Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.

"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.

Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."

Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.

"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.

Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.

The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.

"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.

The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.

"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.

"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.

For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.

"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.

The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.

"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.

"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."

You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.

"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."

[yoongissweetdream]

Snow Angels | S.Coups

❄️ Pairing: Dad!Choi Seungcheol x Mum!Reader ❄️ Requested by: Anon ❄️ Synopsis: Prompt 10 - Y//N and Seungcheol take their kids outside to make a snowman and snow angels ❄️ Word Count: 999 ❄️ Warnings: None. Sorry this was late, I've been sick with a migraine. ❄️ Taglist: Open. I am renewing my tag lists for 2025. Please read this post if you want to stay on them- tag list renewal (dec 01-31 2024).

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“Eomma! Eomma! Eomma!” Seungcheol and Y/N’s oldest son chants excitedly as she rushes into the kitchen where Y/N is making breakfast for the family of five. “It snowed again last night!” he informs her. The first thing he did after waking up was look out the window. Seungcheol had told him they were expecting another snow fall over night and promised him they’d spend time making snowmen and snow angels with his younger brother and sister. “There’s so much more snow out there!” the 8-year-old let’s her know. 

“Really?” Y/N asks, pretending to be surprised. “I guess that means you’ll have a lot more snow for your snowman.” 

He nods his head, before putting on the same pout his father uses for various reasons. “But more snow means I have to look harder for rocks to use as the eyes and mouth.” 

“Check the bowl on the table,” Y/N tells him nodding towards the bowl that sits near the end of the table, closest to the door. "Appa went out and found some last night." 

"Can we go build a snowman now?" Seung-han excitedly asks, seeing the small rocks in the bowl. 

"Let's have breakfast first," Y/N tells him. "Then we can get ready and go outside to make a snowman." 

"I thought we were decorating the Christmas Tree first," Seungcheol says walking into the kitchen, carrying their 2-year-old daughter, Nari, with their second son, 6-year-old Ye-jun trailing behind them. They were a little late to getting the christmas tree decorated. It had been sitting bare in the corner of their living room for a good two weeks. Between their busy schedules and school functions, they hadn't had time until now. Both Y/N and Seungcheol have a weekend off and thought it would be fun activity to do as a family. 

“But I want to build a snowman,” Seung-han insists, pouting once more. “We can always build a snowman after we decorate the tree,” Seungcheol suggests, gently placing Nari in her chair and helping Ye-jun into his.  

“Snowman first,” Seung-han argues, trying to convince his father. His younger siblings quickly echo his words leaving no room for argument. 

Seungcheol mirrors his sons pout as he walks over to his wife, pecking her lips before bowing down to place a kiss on her rounded belly where their fourth (and final) child, another boy, is growing. 

"We can always decorate the tree later," Y/N assures her husband. "It'll be nice to do once we're all warmed up from being in the snow," she continues before lowering her voice, "It won't be long until they get cold and bored and want to come back inside." 

"Snowman first, it is," Seungcheol concedes, earning cheers from all three of his children, even though he suspects Nari, the daddy's girl, is just going along with her older brothers. 

Once breakfast is ready, Seungcheol helps Y/N set the table. "Make sure to eat all your food, or I might change my mind and we’ll do the Christmas tree first," he warns the kids as he places their bowls in front of them. 

After they finish breakfast, Seungcheol does the dishes and then helps Y/N get their children wrapped up warm in coats, scarves and gloves before heading outside to play in the snow. As soon as they're outside, Seung-han is making snowballs to make the snowman with Seungcheol's help while Ye-jun and Nari flop onto the ground, waving their arms and legs, leaving behind perfect imprints in the soft snow. Nari, her cheeks flushed from the cold, gets up and admires her creation, her eyes wide with joy as Ye-jun goes to help his father and older brother in making a snowman. 

"Look Eomma, it's Uncle Hannie!" Nari says, standing up and pointing to the snow angel she made. "Take a photo!" 

Y/N chuckles at Nari's enthusiasm, her cheeks flushed from the snow as she stands proudly beside her creation that reminds her of her favourite uncle and godfather.  

"Alright, my little princess," she replies, pulling out her phone. She makes sure to get the perfect angle, making sure to include Nari's beaming smile and the outline of her snow angel in the frame. Y/N takes a couple photos, sending one to Jeonghan with the caption 'It's Uncle Hannie – Nari.' 

Seungcheol, still kneeling beside Seung-han as they make the base for their snowman, glances over at Y/N and Nari, his heart swelling with pride and love. He lives for these carefree moments, seeing his wife and children happy. He finishes packing a snowball and tosses it playfully at Seung-han, who squeals in surprise and retaliates with a snowball of his own. He laughs, dodging the incoming snowball. The playful banter quickly escalates into a full-blown snowball fight, all three kids against their dad. Y/N watches, her heart full. 

After a while, the snowball fight winds down, and the children, breathless and giggling, collapse into a heap in the snow. Seungcheol joins them, lying back and making his own snow angel, much to the delight of the kids. 

“Okay, everyone! We should get back to making the snowman!” Seungcheol suggests. They begin rolling large snowballs, working together to stack them on top of each other. Seungcheol helps them, lifting the large snowballs with ease and placing it carefully on top of the bottom one.  

“Now for the face!” Seung-han declares, running off to get the bowl of rocks that Seungcheol had connected the night before. Nari and Ye-jun follow suit, their little hands searching for the perfect items to give their snowman personality. Seungcheol takes off his scarf placing it around the snowman's neck. 

Once the snowman is complete, Y/N makes them crowd around their creation and takes some photos on her phone, wanting to capture the moment forever. 

“Can we go inside now?” Seung-han asks, starting to shiver from the cold, his teeth chattering slightly. 

Seungcheol agrees ushering his growing family back inside so they can get warmed up before they start decorating the Christmas tree.

I am renewing my tag list for 2025. If you want to remain on my tag list (or join) you can fill out my Tag List Form

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Already renewed for 2025 (don't need to fill out the form again):

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[p0orbaby]

sick lessi fic 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ clingy gf

taking care of that cutie

-

Alessia is splayed across your sofa like an artist’s rendering of human misery. Her hoodie—an oversized navy monstrosity with a faint Arsenal logo she swore she didn’t steal from Leah—clings to her like damp moss. The grey sweatpants are worse. They’re not hers, nor are they yours. They came from the pile of clothes you were supposed to donate three years ago but never did because you thought you might need them someday. This is the day. You resent the foresight.

She’s been coughing sporadically for the past fifteen minutes, which is to say, coughing exactly every 47 seconds. You know because you’ve been counting. Alessia calls it “a tickly throat.” You call it self-inflicted.

“Stop licking your lips. You’ll make them worse,” you say, watching her smear yet another layer of cherry ChapStick over the crime scene that is her mouth.

“I have to,” she whines, drawing out the words like a five-year-old begging for a toy. Her voice is raw, a strange mix of gravel and helium.

“You don’t. You really, really don’t”

She ignores you, opting instead to roll onto her stomach in a manner that could only be described as unnecessarily dramatic. Her head flops onto the throw pillow you bought at a John Lewis clearance sale. The tag is still attached.

“I think I’m dying,” she declares, muffled by the pillow.

“You’re not dying, Less. You’ve got a runny nose and a bad attitude” you deadpan, sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of her, a bowl of soup balanced precariously on your knee. It’s the tin stuff—Heinz, chicken, condensed. She hates it. It’s why you made it.

“It’s the flu,” she says. “I Googled it”

“You can’t even spell ‘flu’ properly when you text”

“That’s because I was using my thumbs.”

“You always use your thumbs.”

“Rude.” She huffs, tugging the blanket tighter around her. It’s your favourite one, the soft grey one you bought when you first moved in together. Now it smells faintly of menthol rub and despair.

“You know, my mum used to make me this lemon and ginger tea with honey when I was sick,” she says suddenly, wistful, like she’s narrating a nature documentary.

“I’m not your mum”

“She also used to rub Vicks on my chest,” she continues, undeterred.

“Still not your mum”

There’s a pause, her blue eyes narrowing at you. “You’re actually a terrible girlfriend”

“Debatable”

She sneezes. A full-body event. You flinch, watching in real-time as her face contorts, her nose scrunching, her eyes shutting like a malfunctioning robot. The sound is seismic. You wonder if the neighbours heard it.

“Bless me,” she says automatically.

“No”

She sniffles pathetically, then gestures weakly towards the coffee table. “Can you hand me a tissue?”

You glance at the tissue box—one metre away from her outstretched hand. “No. Work for it”

Her lips twitch, the faintest flicker of a smile, but it vanishes as she rolls onto her side. “Why are you like this?”

You shrug, finishing the last spoonful of her soup. It’s cold now, congealed in a way that makes you feel vaguely ill. You wonder if this is what marriage will look like—fighting over tissues, stealing each other’s soup, and coexisting in a quiet ballet of passive-aggressive care.

As you scrape the bowl clean, Alessia shifts again, her head now hanging off the side of the sofa like some deranged bat.

“You’re so lucky I love you”

I know,” you reply, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. She’s warm—not feverish, just Alessia warm.

For a moment, there’s quiet. She shifts again, her head now resting on the arm of the sofa, her eyes fluttering shut. You stand to pull the blanket up higher around her shoulders and tuck it in gently.

And just before you leave the room, she murmurs, soft and sleepy, “Love you”

You smile to yourself, the words lingering in the air like a balm. “Love you too, Less”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - prologue

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, none Wordcount: 5.6K A/N: LILA IS BACK with a new series. this is the prologue, purely here to give people an insight to our oc Izara (who i already love btw), so not as much paige here, but she will make a much bigger entrance come first chapter of the series. again, ty so much for everyone who hyped this up based solely on the synopsis i wrote and ty for your support! i am so excited for this series you guys don't even know!! this one will be a looooong one so buckle up

-

Passport? Check. Silk pillowcase? Check. Laptop? Check.

The list seemed to go on and on, filling out three sheets of paper, both front and back. Some people called it excessive but to me it was necessary. It was better to be over prepared than leave things up to chance. I had been making lists all my life, I wasn’t about to stop now. They have worked for me so far.

Flipping through the maroon moleskine notepad in my hands, my green eyes skim over one page after another - grocery list, changes I must make to my skincare routine, presents to buy next Christmas, wedding registry. There’s a sting in my chest as I stop, my french manicured hand brushing over the soft paper: Vitamix blender, Ginori 1735 cake plate, Baccarat candlestick set.

Inhale, exhale. The pain won’t relinquish. I bring my hand to the soft cotton of my turtleneck, rubbing soothing circles on my chest just like my mum used to when I was little.

“There you go Izara, don’t you feel better? It’s a magic trick, it takes the sadness away.”

The black suitcase is laid out on the floor in front of me, clothes folded neatly in their own nooks. I keep rubbing and rubbing but the sadness won’t go away. So I stop, my fingers carefully flipping a few pages forward. 

Move to The US

Pros

Good career move?

New experiences

Cons

Leaving my family and friends

Boss talked about promotion for me in the next year

Leaving London

Visa hassle

Expenses

Wedding delayed off

Leaving Jasper (pro?)

My memories of the day resurface, the way I was locked in my car, dreading walking inside where my husband-to-be was expecting me. I had spent all day trying on wedding dresses near Soho, my mom and her sister fawning over Jasper the entire day. To everyone he was the perfect man, charming, nurturing and protective. But they didn’t know half of what I put up with. All day I wanted to scream, to throw a fit, tell everyone that they don’t know anything about my perfect fiancé. But instead I kept my mouth shut, and waited till I got into my car to cry. I didn’t like being vulnerable, for my relatives to see me weak. I had told no one about the conflicting feelings inside me, or the way I had applied for an open position to be a social media producer for the Dallas Wings. That very same morning the position had been offered to me.

So I sat in my car with my trusty lists, as usual. The moment I wasn’t sure whether to write leaving Jasper into the pros or the cons, I knew I had to go. It had been gnawing at my subconscious, making me sick to my stomach. Even according to the list this decision made absolutely no sense. But in my gut I knew had to go - desperately so.

“Izzie, are you done yet? We have to leave soon.”

My brother bursts into the room, watching the way I had undone all the packing that I had naturally finished a week prior. Clothes were all over my childhood bedroom, piles of them standing neatly. After calling off the wedding with Jasper I had decided to move back home, not wanting to stay with him and his temper under the same roof.

“What the hell have you done here?” He chuckles, shaking his head as I stand in the middle of the bedroom, notebook in hand, staring at the half empty suitcase.

“I think I’ve gone crazy Kiran,” I admit with a sigh. Two weeks ago when I accepted the job I had been so sure - now I wasn’t. This was insane, mad, completely, utterly unlike me. To get up and move, to disappoint my parents, to disappoint everyone. I just couldn’t stand it anymore, my life here. Every year I grew older I became more and more unsure. Now at 25 I felt like a complete fool, not knowing anything except this wasn’t the life I wanted. Something had to change - I had to change.

My younger brother walks over, wrapping a hand around my shoulder.

“Yes you have.”

I scoff and push him off. “That’s not helpful!”

He chuckles and begins to pack for me, just as neatly as I had done earlier. Guess being high-strung ran in the family.

“It is mad. But that doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do,” my brother mumbles, neatly folding my black cashmere sweater. “I think it’s good Iz, no matter what mum and dad are saying. Don’t mind them. They’ll come around.”

“I wasn’t raised not to mind them,” I chuckle, looking out the window, ours just one of many of the semi-detached houses extending along the road I grew up on. The cherry trees had just bloomed, pale pink blossoms covering the branches, decorating the pavement.

“Funny that, neither was I,” Kiran laughs and finally zips up my suitcase, picking it up and preparing to carry it to the car. “You got everything? Passport? Wallet? Documents?”

I nod with a smile. Even if we didn’t look almost exactly the same (though, we certainly did), it was impossible not to pick up on the family resemblance.

“I have everything.”

-

The drive to Heathrow Airport is quiet. Truthfully, I was far too nervous to speak. I could feel my stomach twisting uncomfortably, a nauseating weight on my chest. I watch as we pass the streets of London, the only streets I had ever known. We pass the red double-decker buses, the abandoned phone boxes, eventually making our way onto the highway.

London is cruel, relentless to its residents, yet simultaneously captivating and thrilling. I had travelled enough to know there was no place like it. Nowhere else I could hop on the Northern Line in the bohemian, eclectic Camden, switch tubes and step out to Canary Wharf, where skyscrapers stand tall above you and the streets are buzzing with men in suits, just in 40 minutes or so. The diversity of the city, the way it could feel like a large metropolis as much as a small charming town all at once, depending on where you were. I loved this city, I always would. But it was time for me to move on at least for now. I wasn’t getting what I wanted, not that I knew what that was in the first place.

“Can’t believe my sister’s gonna be working for the league,” Kiran interrupts the silence. “When you meet Bronny you must tell him hi.”

I let out a laugh, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s happening anywhere else except your delusions.”

“Hey, you never know!” He scoffs as we pull up to terminal 3, the butterflies growing deep in my abdomen.

“You’re such a guy,” I roll my eyes. “I’m working for the WNBA and all you want is to say hi to Lebron James.”

“Well who else is there, Steph?”

In reality, my brother loved basketball, he was the sole reason I knew the first thing about the sport. But he loved pushing my buttons more - and nothing pushed my buttons further than women being underestimated by men.

“A’ja, Stewie, Sabrina, Jewell? Arike plays for the Wings!”

“Never heard of any of them.”

I smack him on the shoulder as he’s parking the car, making him yelp. He was joking of course, but I wasn’t in the mood. Some would argue I was rarely in the mood to joke around but it’s just how I am. High-strung, intense. It was just me, I couldn’t help it. You know how some people have that spark to them? The kind where they step in the room and the place just lights up? That wasn’t me, and I was okay with it. At least I got shit done.

“Okay sorry,” Kiran whines, rubbing his arm. Neither of us wanted to get out, to face the goodbye looming ahead. So we sit for a while.

“Paige Bueckers was drafted there though, right?” My brother asks, staring at the big sign for Terminal 3 above the sliding doors.

“Yeah, she was.”

“She’s tough,” he says and I nod in agreement. I had followed her college career quite a bit, saw her go through injury and rise to the top again. She wasn’t my favourite player, I preferred focusing on the league - but it was undeniable she was a generational talent. 

“She’s also really fit,” my brother adds, making me snort.

“Kiran, I'm fairly sure she’s also really gay,” I laugh. My brother turns to me with shock written all over his face.

“You really think so?” 

I roll my eyes, “I- well yes. It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“Damn,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Takes one to know one I guess.”

Another smack on his shoulder, another yelp spilling from his lips. One drunken night years ago I had come out to Kiran as bisexual and now it was his favourite joke in the world. I don’t think he realised I was serious, or that at points in my life I had dated girls as well. Honestly though, I hadn’t even thought about girls that way since I met Jasper. Not that I’d found any girl remotely attractive in the past years, perhaps it had just been a phase.

“You’re going to come back with some 6 '5 American basketball lesbian aren’t you?” He teases, making me roll my eyes.

“We need to head inside,” I laugh, climbing out of the car. I didn’t know much about what would happen, but I certainly wasn’t going to come back with anyone. The time I spend in Dallas would be time dedicated to me, to figuring out who I was, what I wanted. I had no time for love.

I pull the suitcase towards the doors, Kiran on my tail until we both come to a halt right inside. Quickly I check my purse again - passport, phone, wallet, charger, documents. All there. Just one thing left to do.

I turn to my brother and hug him. We had never spent more than a month apart since the day he was born. I had always been the annoying, bossy older sister, ordering him around since he could barely talk. But still, it had all been out of love. I wanted him to be safe and it was my job to protect him. He was my baby brother after all, even now at 23 as he stands 6’0 tall. 

“Take care of yourself Izzie,” he whispers, squeezing me tight.

“You too, and of mum and dad please,” I tell him, holding my breath in as to not let any tears fall, though they’re already burning in the corners of my eyes.

We pull apart, and he smiles at me assuringly. “Call mum when you land, we don’t need her getting loopy.”

“I will,” I chuckle. There’s a few seconds of silence that stretches across us, our green eyes locked in each other’s gaze. We don’t need to say these things out loud, we both knew we loved each other.

“Well, have a safe flight and have fun in Dallas,” Kiran says and waves bye, turning around to walk away. “YEEHAW!” He turns around and yells before slipping out through the sliding doors. Laughing, I watch him, the ache in my chest growing exponentially. It was all becoming real. Me in Dallas, Texas.

A couple hours and a long security line later I’m sitting on the ascending plane, gazing out of the window. I stretch out my legs, glad to be short enough to fit in the seats comfortably. I’m holding a copy of War and Peace by Tolstoy in my hands, simply flipping through the pages, my mind too conflicted to focus as I watch the ground beneath me retreating further every second.

I could see Big Ben, The London Eye, Thames stretching across the length of the city, shrinking until we ascend through a thick layer of clouds, making it impossible to see anything. It’s only then I let myself cry, the first tears after ending my engagement only a couple weeks prior. I had no other plan, I needed this to work out desperately.

-

Jet lag was killing me, but I knew I could never allow it to show. It was the following day of arriving in Dallas. I spent all of yesterday sleeping, trying to let my body adjust to the time difference before my first day on the job. 

Of course I had woken up three entire hours before my alarm went off. So when I get to the first media team meeting of the season, I have already had time to drink two coffees, go to the gym, shower, shave, do my jet black hair just to have a crisis and pin it up in a slicked back bun, do my makeup and send emails and make calls to the wedding venue to cancel it. I was on fire and wouldn’t let a little jetlag hold me down. 

The maroon turtleneck and black slacks I was wearing had already been decided on the evening before as to avoid any clothing disaster. I wasn’t exactly sure how to dress for a job like this - but as I step into the tall building from the busy streets of Dallas I can tell I’m overdressed. Many of the people around my age are dressed much more laid back than I’m used to, wearing hoodies and jeans - and to my biggest shock of all, sneakers.

As I walk across the entryway the sound of my heels tapping on the tiles echo around the building, my cheeks turning bright red. I knew people were turning to stare, but instead of looking back and checking, I rush to the elevator, slipping in through the doors and facing my reflection. Maybe I was overdressed, but I look nice. The gold earrings decorating my ears contrast against my light brown skin and black hair, making them pop. I smooth over my belt, fixing the way the golden buckle of it was sitting on my slacks when a man around my age walks in just as the doors are about to close.

“Hey there!” He greets me, a charming smile on his face and brown eyes twinkling. His friendliness is so intense it nearly startles me.

“Oh, hey!” I reply, turning towards him. For a moment he looks at me, blinking, perhaps waiting for me to keep talking but when I don’t he’s quick to pick up my slack.

“I’m Trey, I do media stuff for the Wings. Basically a glorified cameraman,” he explains lightheartedly. 

“I’m Zari, they just hired me to do social media actually,” I reply, shaking his hand firmly just like my dad always taught me to. There’s a sliver of recognition on Trey’s face as he takes in my words.

“Oh yeah! They said they hired someone new! Didn’t mention you were a Brit tho. Well shit we’re prolly gon’ be working together a lot then,” he says. It’s at that moment I decide that his enthusiasm isn’t fake even though it’s suspiciously intense. Maybe he’s just an energetic guy - maybe he’s just an American.

“I suppose yes!” I chuckle and look over the buttons of the lift. “So, perhaps you know which floor I need to go to then because I don’t?”

“Oh sure thing.” 

Pressing on the number 10, the elevator finally begins to move upwards. I’m fiddling with the rings around my fingers, a nervous habit I had.

“You nervous?” Trey asks, picking up on my queues quickly. Guess I wasn’t as composed as I’d liked.

“A bit,” I admit.

Trey chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulder comfortingly - or I suppose it’s meant to be comforting but I didn’t particularly find it so. “You’ll do good, everyone’s chill here. Except the boss but you get used to her. You can relax, Zari.” As much as the man’s enthusiasm and touchiness shocked me, I was glad to have someone show me where to go instead of wandering around the floors aimlessly. 

In a corridor full of doors Trey picks the right one, opening it for me. Inside we find a team of 10 people or so sitting around a table, their discussion immediately coming to a halt when we step in, all eyes turning to me. I feel unease settle over me, but instead of panic I inhale and exhale. I knew I could do this, this was the only plan I had. I had never not had a plan B, a plan C before. This had to be it.

“You must be Izara,” a gravelling voice says as a red haired woman, likely in her 50s, stands up. She’s dressed much more corporate, a fitted blazer and a pencil skirt accentuating her curves. I immediately notice her brows, thin and sharp, appearing almost angry. I didn’t have to be told who this was, Trey’s description had been colourful enough for me to know she was my boss.

“Yes, well I go by Zari actually, if you don’t mind,” I say in a friendly tone, walking over in my black stilettos to shake her hand. 

“You kids and your nicknames, oh well. Zari’s fine, but don’t complain if I forget,” she sighs, clearly already bothered. “I’m Linda Halford, the managing media director for the Dallas Wings. We spoke on the phone.” 

Her eyes are blue and piercing, but there’s something about her straight forwardness that feels intriguing in contrast to the excessive friendliness of everyone else I’d met so far. Hell, even the cab driver tried to strike up a conversation after my flight. I wasn’t sure if I liked Linda or feared her - perhaps a bit of both.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” I smile, sitting myself down on the chair Linda pulls out for me right next to her. All eyes were on me of course, the new girl. I just had to get through the first week and I’d be old news. Good old boring Izara. Just get through the week.

“I hope your travels went well,” Linda says distractedly, scrolling through a document on her laptop. As I open my mouth to answer, she keeps talking.

“Now, there are many big changes this year, and our media team has been… not up to par so to speak,” she glances up at Trey, and a couple of girls sitting next to him who I suppose I would be working with as well. 

“Thanks to Bueckers, we’re about to have a lot more eyes on us. So I hired Izara-” Zari. Just call me Zari. I bite the inside of my cheek not to correct her, she didn’t seem like the type of woman you correct. “and she’s gonna help us. She’s here to innovate, to come up with ideas to boost online exposure and to boost clicks. We need to get active on Tiktok, and whatever the kids use. I need daily content. No more editing videos for weeks before posting them on Youtube, Trey.”

“My bad,” Trey says, making everyone chuckle, his eyes sparkling when they land on me.

Linda looks at him disapprovingly before continuing.

“We are sitting on a goldmine now guys. Paige Bueckers has over 2 million followers on Instagram. She is incredibly marketable, how do we use her best?” Linda asks, everyone going silent immediately, looking around, waiting for someone to bite. Fine, I will.

Clearing my throat I begin. “Well, I think it’s important that while we do use her to get clicks, we don’t make the Wings the “Paige Bueckers team” and repeat the same mistakes I personally think Indiana Fever did with CC,” My voice is steady, sure, even though deep inside I’m not quite certain about what I’m saying. I pause, composing myself - if there was one thing I was good at it was selling things with confidence. Even when I wasn’t. 

“I think we use her for clicks, make loads of content with her but use that content to uplift other players and the whole team. Not just Bueckers, not just Arike, but everyone.”

Linda nods. “Yes, Izara. How do we do that?” Zari. Just say Zari.

I shrug. “A lot of Paige’s fans are young, I’m not sure if some of them even watch the sport at all. So we try to get them intrigued. Not posting purely basketball content, but including some fan service should help with that, incentivise the young girls to get involved with the sport. There needs to be a balance.”

To my shock, when I raise my eyes from the table, Linda is smiling. It’s not the warmest smile, but one nevertheless.

“And this is why we had to hire someone all the way from England, because you guys couldn’t figure this out in this hellhole,” Linda scolds my colleagues. The praise feels good, but I really didn’t want to come off as a show off or soon my only friend in all of Dallas, Texas would be Linda Halford.

“Good job Zari, welcome to the team,” the redhead says firmly before returning to her notes. “Okay tomorrow we are all having a little Dallas Wings get together. The coaches, players, everyone so be prepared to go out after work.”

As I write this down in my calendar I’m interrupted by Linda again. “Izara.”

“Yes?” I ask.

“By the end of tomorrow I’m expecting you to be friendly with Bueckers. You’re gonna be working together a lot, I need you on her good side.”

-

“Thank God!” I groan to myself, kicking off my black stilettos the second I step into my new home. The league had provided me with an apartment until the end of the season. It was modern, nice, sleek but so incredibly impersonal it pained me. It didn’t feel like me at all, the blank white walls, the dull grey furniture. It wasn’t home.

I crash into the couch face first, mixture of jet lag and stress of the first day on the job taking over. Not only was I the new girl, but I was also the English girl. All day I’d been asked if we really eat beans on toast, and if I’d ever seen the Queen - mind you she passed in 2022. 

With too much left to do, I only let myself rest for a few minutes before getting up reluctantly, tiptoeing to my bedroom to start undressing. Throwing on a matching set of knitted cream coloured sweater and pants, I let my hair down, finally feeling comfortable.

Suddenly I hear a loud crash from the hallway, followed by even louder giggles and muffled yelps echoing around the building. Too curious about my neighbours, I step into my slippers and carefully open the door to see what’s going on.

“Bro, it’s not that heavy,” an accented voice groans probably a floor below me. Heavy steps on the stairs are closing in. Two people, I think.

“Lou, you’re kidding right?” Another girl complains, her voice bright.

“You’re too weak, just give it to me,” the other person argues, steps approaching me.

“Ha, no way, you’re just gon’ break my new plates. Ion trust you.”

“Next time you’re getting an at-home deliver- oh hey!”

A brunette girl with her hair down, only in basketball shorts and a sports bra sees me as she turns the corner, meeting my gaze as I peek through my door. She’s holding a cardboard box, full of pans and pots, hair sticking to her forehead from the humidity.

Suddenly the other girl appears, blonde, hair in a bun but other than that pretty much wearing the exact same thing.

“Who you talkin to- oh,” the blonde notices me, her blue eyes so intense my knees nearly buckle. 

“Sorry, we’re being really loud, we’re gonna try and keep quiet,” the brunette apologises. The blonde is still watching me, never breaking eye-contact. Feeling uneasy, my eyes flicker to the brunette and I smile politely.

“That’s fine, I was just checking if you were okay?” I ask. The blonde walks past my door, my eyes lingering for a millisecond on the way her biceps flex as she carries a large and apparently heavy box of plates towards the next flight of the stairs.

“We’re good, sorry ‘bout that,” the blonde answers, her voice now much quieter, less lively than before when it echoes around the halls.

“Okay well, maybe next time you should get at-home-delivery?” I suggest, watching as the girls struggle slowly up the stairs before retreating back into my apartment.

“That’s what I SAID!” The brunette complains loudly. I can still hear them bickering when I close the door, a smile spreading to my face. The first time I’ve genuinely laughed since I landed. 

It’s as if I knew those girls from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it. Something about them was so familiar. It’s not till I hear them jogging back down for the next batch of boxes to carry upstairs, their voices loud enough to echo into my apartment, when I realise. 

“Paige I’m about to call Bob Bueckers to come help us soon, I’m dead serious.”

“You don’t got my dad’s number.”

“Pretty sure I do!”

Oh. Peeking out through the peephole my suspicions are confirmed. Walking past my door it indeed is Paige and Lou, bringing more kitchenware upstairs. And I didn’t even recognise them. I look down at my knitted set with a deep sigh. So much about being professional huh? I better make a good impression tomorrow.

-

taglist: @wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @lupinqs @lovegalor333 @d3arapril @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @bueckersfive @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch

[chellz22-blog]

Have you ever heard of MOGAD before? No? Neither had I. According to Google, 1-3 people of 1,000,000 are diagnosed with MOGAD each year, with no known statistics for seronegative MOGAD.

I have been suffering for years. Silently struggling with symptoms that sounded ridiculous and with no answers that led me feeling ashamed and depressed because when you are constantly 'sick' and going to hospital and from doctor to doctor, only to be told your suffering mirgrains, well no one is going to take you seriously. My headaches were severely disabling. I was popping nuerofen like malteasers, feeling sick, loosing my vision, my balance and what felt like my mind. I couldn't keep a job because I was so unreliable due to my symptoms. I was always tired and angry which of coarse affected those around me. Especially my kids. Things got seriously bad in December of 2024. I needed to hold onto my kids to cross a road, or do a food shop. I was falling over, I was loosing feeling in my left arm and leg. By Feb 2024, I was rushed to boxhill hospital under a stroke code. I wasn't having a stroke. I was diagnosed 3 days later after finally receiving a MRI with Multiple sclerosis.

I spent weeks at a time in and out of hospital due to my symptoms flaring back up constantly. I was the diagnosed with MOGAD, then further seronegative MOGAD.

MOGAD (myelin oligodendrocyte glycoprotein antibody associated disease) is an autoimmune condition where your immune system attacks proteins in the protective cover around your nerves (myelin). It causes symptoms that affect your eyes, brain and spinal cord, like vision loss, confusion and muscle weakness.

I myself suffer from seronegative MOGAD which means despite having clinical and radiological features consistent with MOGAD, I test negative for MOG antibodies.

If your not confused by all of this, I take my hat off to you, because I'm still extremely confused as to what it all means. I just know that this is slowly but surely taking my life from me.

My name is Michelle (Chell) and I'm from a small country town in rural Victoria. I'm the youngest of 4 children with 3 older brothers.

I'm 36years old with 3 beautiful children, my oldest is 14, and I have 2 sons who are 8 and 9. I'm honestly blessed as my children are hands down beautiful, kind and well behaved kids. Every day I live for them. In October of 2024, I was lucky enough to meet the love of my life and despite my health issues and being a single mum of 3 kids, he took us all in with open arms. He drives me to and from every medical appointment and hospital visit. He cares for me and my kids better than I've ever known.

I have always loved writing and decided I would try write a blog about my condition and struggles. If I can encourage just 1 person who has any symptoms similar to mine to push your doctor to get you into that MRI machine, then in my eyes that's a success.

I encourage questions and will write again explaining my symptoms in a little more depth soon.

Please feel free to leave a comment or even email me.. mxchel22@hotmail.com

For more info check out MS Australia's website https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.msaustralia.org.au/&ved=2ahUKEwi1vd-9uMOMAxXbdvUHHc7PEl8QFnoECAwQAQ&usg=AOvVaw1KfxYaUSM5M1G-9V2eLdlS

Much love, Chell xx

[rainroses45]

Rain, Please Never Go Away

Description: You try to stop Harry from running into the house and leaving a mess, while he tries to stop the water from escaping. (James Potter x Wife!Reader) (Mom Reader & Harry Potter) A/n: I was watching one of my favorite shows (bluey) and I could not stop crying to this amazing episode so here is my take on it :) NOT EDITED AT ALL Song Inspo: Rainbow - Bluey Warnings: None zip zero nada

"We'll be back darling," James called out to the two of you. The boys had to go finish some paperwork for tomorrows early mission, leaving you alone in the house with your son.

"I don't know why we couldn't have taken the bike," Sirius grumbled from the backseat of the Ford Escort. "It would have been far more exciting than riding this hunk of junk."

"Frankly my dear, I don't give damn," Remus readjusted his rear view mirror starring at his husband in annoyance. "And I quite enjoy having all my bones in tact to answer your question."

"It was one time!" Sirius shouted causing Harry to let out a giggle.

You stood on the front porch of your house with Harry in your arms watching as your three troglodytes argue with one another.

The pot of English Pearls you had outside, hanging from the exterior of the railing, swayed with the wind. The sky was still clear but the wind gave its surprise shower away. "Surely, the storm won't be here till tomorrow," you thought.

"Be careful," you yelled as you saw them begin to pull out of the driveway. Harry waved his hands, shouting continuous "goodbyes" and "I love yous."

"I love you two so much," James smiled as he sent air kisses to Harry and you, his window still rolled down in order to hear your voices.

"We love you to dada!" Harry jumped up and down on your hip trying to see the car over the tall trees. All that could be heard as a response was a couple of laughs and coos for the young five year boy.

"Okay angel, I'm going to go start on dinner," you carried him inside, closing the door behind you. "Would you like to help or would you like to go play?"

"Can I play in living room?" He asked, looking at your hair as he fiddled with the strands. You thanked Godric he no longer had the habitat of pulling your hair anymore.

"Of course love," you set him down on the carpet, before heading to the kitchen to make dinner.

You opened the pantry to see what you could make tonight. Maybe a soup, or some sandwiches - in the end you decided to make tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Just as you finished cutting off the crust of Harry's sandwich, you heard the strum of pitter patters on the window. Quickly you looked out the window above the kitchen sink and saw that the sky had darken. Without a second thought you grabbed the empty laundry basket near the sofa and ran outside.

A confused Harry followed along behind you, soon falling behind as he mesmerized at the water coming down from the clouds. He soon dashed his way to happy green grass and enjoyed the rain drops.

You on the other hand headed to the side of the house, quickly pulling down the clothes from the clips on the line and shoving them into the basket. "Out of all the days it decided to rain, why on earth now?" You muttered as you tried to take down all the clothes as fast as you could, laughing a bit at James's soaked unicorn boxers.

"Mum can we play in the rain?" Harry asked as he spun around on the grass looking up at the rain falling from the sky.

"Just for a while darling, I don't want you to get sick," you replied before entering the house and placing all the clothes in the mud room. You stretched them out on the counters before heading outside to watch Harry.

The gentle fall of the rain from the roof through the gutter, soothed the house as its magic came to life. Your little garden you and your husband started began to dance with joy with the clouds tears just as your son did.

Harry giggled and laughed as he felt the squishing of the mud beneath his feet. He stuck his tongue out to catch raindrops, feeling a rush of happiness in the weather - when something caught his eye. A funny growing trail of rain water began to follow down the stoney path of their porch towards the empty road.

Jumping into stream on the path, he laughed as the cold water splashed against his ankles. You saw him jumping in the stream of water, and let out a soft smile. If only you have your camera right now to take a photo of this memory.

"Harry, darling," you called out, "I'm going to get an umbrella for you." Your son continued to jump in the stream completely infatuated with it, "okay mum."

Watching as the water flowed, Harry put his two feet together watching as the stream began to build up. Soon it tried escaping his little wall, until he placed both of his hands down and tried stopping it once more.

Looking around he tried to find something to help stop it, and when you came out with the umbrella an idea struck. Without another thought he quickly ran to your arms grabbing the umbrella and running back to stop the flow. You looked pleased at first, thinking he was going to use it to not get wet, but then you were soon let down. "If that is not James's kid I don't know at this point," you thought, grumbling as you walked back inside.

Although in his mind it did seem like a wonderful idea to use the umbrella, he then realized that it would fly backwards as the weight of the build of water was too heavy for him to hold.

Closing it, he threw it away and soon decided on finding another way. In his five year old mind, your son decided to use the newspaper on the lawn to stop the flow of the water. That idea also failed him, so quickly he went inside, startling you with the slamming of the front door as he ran towards his room.

Carrying four toy blocks in his hands he ran towards the front door, but was soon stopped by you.

"Harry James Potter!" You yelled, "look at the mess you made, where is the umbrella I gave you?" You asked as you pointed towards the muddy shoe prints on the floor.

"Mum I'm sorry but I-" He tried explaining but you kept talking about the mess on the floor. Harry tried wiping it away with his foot but it just made you sigh.

"Go," you pointed outside annoyed to which he gladly left to go complete his mission.

This process continued over five more times to the point you even tried barricading the open front door with your body to which harry swiftly made it through any open gaps left. Curse those stupid quidditch practices.

Finally you ended up giving up, leaving the front door open and sitting on a chair outside. You watched as Harry ran back and forth from the house to the path trying to stop the run off of water. The little wall made out of newspaper, towels, blocks, and boxes outside the path made you smile. Even if your house is a mess, its living with excitement.

Harry put his feet on the side of the other and placed his hands the same way as before trying to finish off this little wall. And as the water slowly began to reach his hands he soon realized he wasn't going to make it. There was still a gap left.

Disappointed and sad, he prayed that the water would stop at his finger tips but it didn't seem it was going to end that way. To his great surprise, you walked up from behind and placed your feet on the side of his hands.

"I thought you didn't want to make a mess mum?" Harry looked up at you, his face finally clear of the rain thanks to the umbrella you held above you.

"I learned that a little mess isn't something we should fuss about love," you shrugged, smiling down at your son.

"Mum, quick, its going to escape!" Harry said as he watched the water begin to turn over your sneakers.

You looked up at the umbrella and smiled before throwing to the floor and placing your hands next to your feet.

"I don't think we are going to make it Harry," you said as the water began to flow farther than your hand could stop.

"We need more blocks." Harry said, just before he was about to get up a pair of shoes appeared next to your hands.

"Look like you might need a little help."

"Dad!" Harry looked up to see his father. James was completely soaked from head to toe but he didn't care. He just wanted to be home.

"Darling I thought you had to finish some paperwork?" You smiled up at your husband.

"Canceled the mission because of the weather." He shrugged, "and plus how would you two ever survive without me? I mean look how the stream almost escaped- OW!" James crouched down to hold shin. "What was that for?!"

Harry tried holding in a laugh at his dads pained expression.

"That was for criticizing us," you smiled, "and this is for helping us." You gave him a peck on the lips causing a faint blush to appear on James's face.

"Ewwwwww!" Harry twisted his face in disgust.

"Oh pack it up Romeo," James said as he tried stealing another kiss from you.

Gosh you really did love you family.

i kinda of rushed it a bit at the end but potato potatoe 🦦 (also i’m kind of crying BECAUSE WHY WAS THAT EPISODE SO BEAUTIFUL) also im out of storage soooooooo I don't know what to do

[nickeverdeen]

You’re…? | Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Pairings: Kate x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Being invited to a “party” by Kate’s mum you decide to go - much to Kate’s protests - and a right moment arrives eventually for you to break news to Kate.

Ps: So sorry for the hold up and actually I don’t have any excuse as to why I didn’t post except the truth that I kidna just didn’t feel like it, sorry…

—————————

The extravagant ballroom buzzed faintly with the low hum of conversation and the soft clinking of glasses. Kate Bishop, dressed sharply in a tailored black suit, leaned casually against a tall standing table, her arm lightly brushing yours. You, in a sleek blouse paired with a stylish blazer, stood by her side, exchanging a small smile with your girlfriend of five years. Despite the opulent setting, neither of you felt quite at home.

“Remind me why we agreed to come to this again?” Kate leaned closer to whisper in your ear, her voice laced with playful exasperation.

“Because your mom invited us,” you replied with a wry grin, gesturing subtly toward Eleanor Bishop across the room. Her sharp eyes briefly flickered to you before returning to her conversation.

Kate sighed dramatically. “Right, so she can remind you that she doesn’t think you’re ‘good enough’ for me.”

“She doesn’t hate me,” you corrected gently, though a pang of insecurity lingered beneath your words. “She just… wants the best for you.”

Kate huffed. “You are the best for me. She just doesn’t see it yet.”

Before you could respond, a waiter passed by, and Kate flagged them down. “Two glasses of wine, please,” she ordered, but before the server could leave, you interjected.

“Actually, just one wine and one water, please,” you said quickly, offering the waiter a polite smile.

Kate glanced at you, a curious eyebrow raised, but didn’t press the matter. The drinks arrived moments later, and you took a sip of your water, the cool liquid soothing your nerves.

The two of you chatted idly, exchanging quiet jokes about the stuffy atmosphere and the awkwardly fake laughter of the wealthy socialites nearby. As always, Kate’s playful banter made the event more bearable, her humor a welcome distraction.

“You sure you don’t want a sip?” Kate asked, holding her glass of wine toward you. “It’s surprisingly good, for snob-people wine.”

You shook your head with a soft smile. “I think I’ll stick to water for a while.”

Kate gave you a teasing look. “Since when do you pass on wine? Did I miss the memo?”

Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time. You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice so only Kate could hear. “Actually, I won’t be drinking wine—or anything else—for the next nine months.”

Kate blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to realization in a matter of seconds. Her lips parted, her brows furrowing slightly as the words clicked in her mind.

“Wait. Are you saying—” Her voice caught, and she paused, her eyes widening in shock. “You’re…?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “We’re having a baby.”

For a moment, Kate was utterly still, her breath hitching as the words sank in. Then, her face broke into a radiant grin, her excitement bubbling over in an uncontrollable laugh.

“Oh my god,” she said, her voice brimming with joy. “Oh my god! You’re serious?”

“Completely serious,” you confirmed, your heart swelling at the sight of her happiness.

Kate pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. “This is the best news ever.”

When she finally pulled back, her hands remained on your shoulders, her eyes scanning your face with a newfound tenderness. “Are you okay? Have you been feeling sick? Have you seen a doctor yet? Do you need anything?”

You chuckled softly at her sudden barrage of questions. “I’m fine, Kate. I’ve been taking care of myself. I just wanted to tell you first.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in your own little world, the noise of the party faded into the background. Kate’s love and excitement were all you needed.

[watermelonlovershigh]

"Y/n, I really want a baby!" /blurb/

AN: i started writing this the same day Gemma announced she had a baby but you know me, i'm a slow writer and proofreader. so sorry it took me a few days to have it finished and posted. hope you enjoy and make sure to leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: talks of wanting a baby, heavy persuasion, small smut scene, breeding kink maybe?

{ husbandrry - soft!harry - uncle!harry - current harry era }

word count- 1,484

After the pregnancy announcement of Harry's older sister Gemma, Harry has become sick with the case of baby fever and tries to convince you over and over to start having children now rather then later.

Ever since Harry has become an uncle to his sister Gemma's new little baby girl, he's had massive baby fever. And it's not like you're opposed to having a baby with Harry. Of course you want a baby with your husband of a year, boyfriend of nearly eight years. But your original plan was to wait for another year or two and that's what you were hoping to stick to. But Harry is mighty convincing.

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

Gemma had invited you and Harry over to her little house back in Holmes Chapel that she shares with her long time boyfriend, Michal. Harry's been finished touring for about a month now so you had a bunch of free time to make the drive up there. When you arrived, you got the sense something was up. There was this sneakiness in the air that you couldn't ignore.

But that all ended after your dinner, as you sat on Gemma's nice plush couch, when she looks to you and then to Harry before blurting out, "We're having a baby."

Harry's eyes nearly bug out his head and he shouts, "What! Oh My God!!" He stood up from his spot on the couch as Gemma shook her head yes and walked over towards her, giving his big sister a big, warm hug. You allowed the brother - sister duo to have a moment before also standing up.

Once Gemma parted from the hug she had with her baby brother, because Harry never breaks hugs first, she reaches out to embrace you in a hug. "Oh My God, congratulations. To you both. I'm so excited for you guys."

Gemma whispers a, "Thank you." in your left ear before stepping back again.

After giving Michal a quick hug as well, Harry questions, "Wait, does Mum know?" His face is still in complete shock.

Gemma nods and responds, "Yeah, she was the second person I told. First being Michal of course. "

You each sit down again and continue the conversation, "I bet Anne sobbed when you told her."

Giggling, Gemma replies, "Oh yes. She first shouted in surprise, quite like Harry did, then cried. It was adorable and sweet."

----

Later that night on your drive back home to London, you look over to the driver's seat and notice Harry has tears in his eyes. You can only see that in the dark because the street lights are reflecting off his shiny eyes. Quietly, you coo, "Harry, what's wrong? Why are your eyes all watery?"

He turns his head to look at you quickly before watching the road again, then answering, "S'just, m'so happy for Gemma. M'gonna be an uncle. But then it got me thinkin', one day m'gonna be a dad and m'gonna get to hold our small baby and care for it and love on it. They get to call me dad. Y/n, I really want a baby." After saying that last sentence, Harry lets a full blown sob come out. One that you debate whether or not to have him pull over because you don't want him to crash the car.

"Oh baby," you say in a gentle tone, reaching over the center console to run your hand soothingly up and down his arm, "it's okay. You're gonna be the best uncle to your niece or nephew and the best dad to our kids one day."

"But what if I don't want to wait for one day? What if I want kids now? Y/n, can we start tryin' for a baby?"

You giggle at his eagerness and respond, "We said another year or two, remember. But I'll consider bringing the wait time lower. Just let me have time to think on it.

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

A couple weeks have gone by since Harry found out he was gonna be an uncle and his baby fever has yet to go away. You haven't gave him an answer on whether or not you want to start trying right now and Harry hasn't brought it back up either. He didn't want to bother or pressure you with answering such a big question. But, he has been bringing more persuasive hints your way.

For instance, the other day you were walking in the park and Harry spotted a little girl running up into her daddy's arms. Harry gets your attention at the sight and whispers, "Can you imagine, our little girl or boy runnin' into my arms? Where they know they'll be safe and loved. Of course your arms too but them feelin' love from their daddy is somethin' extra special."

And the imagine of that does get your ovaries tingling, you can't lie. Just picturing your child running into Harry's arms after a day at school, or after getting a little scrape on the knee, or when someone was being rude to them on the playground. Knowing their daddy will love and keep them safe. Ugh, maybe you do want a baby now.

Another time Harry has shown his baby fever recently is in bed. Right now you're on birth control so you still get to have raw sex and Harry takes advantage of that. Whispering in your ear while making love, "Gonna put a baby inside of you. Fill you up with my cum and give you all the babies in the world."

You breathed out while holding his body closer to yours, "You know I'm..... I'm on birth control, right?"

"Don't remind me. Let me just pretend, alright." Harry mutters while thrusting in to you with love and care. Obviously he knows you're on birth control and he'd never interfere with your medication knowing it's something you requested to be on for the time being. But that doesn't mean he can't pretend he's knocking you up.

And it's something Harry does, not just that time but several times following. Really every time you have sex after Gemma's pregnancy announcement where he got baby fever.

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

What the final straw was to make you want kids now rather than wait until later was when Harry's niece was born and you saw Harry interact with her for the first time. A day after Gemma had given birth, she allowed you and Harry to come visit. Anne had visited first, obviously since she's the mum and grandma, but next it was you two.

When you walked into the hospital room filled with pink balloons and flowers, you saw Gemma propped up in bed with her baby cuddled to her chest. Michal sitting next to the bed in a chair. Gemma waves you both over and asks Michal to grab the baby from her arms and hand her to one of you. (you and harry washed your hands before entering the hospital room) He offers the baby to you first but you shake your head no and say, "Let Harry hold her first."

Michal hands over his baby girl to Harry and it's like some kind of instinct comes forth with how natural he makes it look holding a day old baby. Looking down at the small baby in his arms, Harry coos shakily, clear emotions in his voice, "Oh My God, Gemma, she's beautiful. So small and delicate."

The view in front of you was the best sight you think you've ever seen. Your husband holding his baby niece for the first time. And now all you can picture is you in that hospital bed, looking over at Harry but instead of his niece, he's holding your baby. The one you created together with the love you made. Maybe even doing some skin to skin contact.

----

On your drive back home from the hospital, you blurt out, "Harry, I want a baby. Like right now." Harry nearly crashes the vehical. He has to actually pull over so he can make sure he heard you correctly.

"Y/n, what'd you say?"

"You heard me correctly, H. I want a baby right now. Not in a year or two. Seeing you with your niece today did something to me. Made my ovaries flutter and this big desire to see you holding our baby. A baby we made together." you explain softly.

Not thinking twice, Harry surges forward and crashes his lips to your. One hand cradles your face while the other settles on your thigh over the center console. Then breaking away to catch his breath, Harry smiles wide and speaks, "Yeah, you wanna make a baby together? When we get home m'gonna stuff you full of m'cum and get you so fuckin' pregnant."

His words turn you on beyond belief. And though you took your birth control this morning, you know tomorrow you're flushing the rest down the toilet. Harry knows the likelihood of getting you pregnant tonight is unlikely because you took your birth control today, but that isn't going to stop him from fucking you until his seed eventually sticks. Whether that takes days, months, or years.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[demons2003]

What Was Left Unsaid (Batman/Bruce Wayne x Reader)

Description: Bruce has many secrets, ones that he has always shared with you. But what happens that be was hiding the fact that your newest and youngest child that's been living with you for months is accually his child. One that should exist because of your own relationship.

Warnings: mentions (offscreen) of rape and drugging. Heartbreak.

"Tell me you are joking," I ask Bruce as we walk through our front door.

"You know I don't really joke," He says as he moves to take off my coat, my heart racing.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before you brought him into our home? You have a biological son!" I exclaim, moving out of his reach. He drops his hands in defeat and puts them in his pockets.

"I don't know." He says, turning away from me.

"Bruce, we have to talk about this," I say, moving after him. He ignores me and continues up the stairs. "Bruce, please," I plead again, but he ignores me. 'He has a 10 year old son. A son that isn't mine, even though we have been together since before we adopted Dick!'

As we both walk up the stairs, the boys all seem to come out of their rooms to find out what we are yelling about. "What's going on?" Jason asks us, seeming to square up a little towards Bruce.

"Nothing Jas, go back to whatever you were doing," I kindly say, pushing Bruce towards his office.

"You've been yelling since you walked in the door. Something is going on." Dick sasses, crocking a brow at us both.

"This is between us boys." Bruce snaps and turns around, heading into his office.

Before I can do the same, Tim grabs onto my hand. "You ok mum? You look like you've been crying." He whispers, looking at me with concern.

I smile at him and shake my head. "Yeah, Timmy, I'm ok. Just some adult things we gotta talk about." I whisper, taking my hand out of his and walking into the office, locking the door behind me.

I stand there for a second, trying to collect my thoughts. Bruce sits at his desk quietly as well, seeming to wait for me to speak first.

"Please tell me this is all a sick prank, and you aren't really the dad Bruce?" I ask him quietly, not moving from my spot at the door.

"I checked. He's mine." He says. I laugh a little and look up to try to stop the tears from falling.

"How? Bruce, we've been together for 15 years? If you have a 10 year old son...." I choke out, not wanting to say the words, but I know I have to. "....Then you cheated on me." I finally say, my chest tightening as the words leave my mouth.

"I honestly thought it was a dream," he whispers, which gets me to face him again. He's leaning on his desk, head in his hands, shaking his head like he doesn't believe it either.

"So you had a dream about cheating on me? That doesn't make me feel much better, Bruce. We tell each other everything? Why not this?" I question, finally stepping away from the door and sitting in the chair across from him. But he doesn't say anything.

He just leans on his desk, staring at the wood like it holds all the answers. His hands grip his hair so tight that his knuckles are turning white. He seems like he goes to say something a few times, but nothing ever comes out. But I wait. Wait for him to tell me something. An explanation. An excuse. Something. But nothing ever leaves his mouth.

"You gotta tell me something, Bruce. He's been living in our house!" I exclaim, my voice breaking. "I'm falling apart here, I need you to say something."

Finally, his lifts his eyes to mine. Eyes that I am bearly reconising right now. He's always shows his emotions in his eyes but never these. He's always been the strong one out of the two of us, but he seems broken right now, just like how I feel. But it doesn't answer what's going on right now.

"I didn't know how to tell you. I couldn't leave him on the street. I didn't know how to explain. I couldn't remember it well. It wasn't.." he trails off, looking away from me again.

"It wasn't what?!" I exclaim, standing as my anger starts to rise again. "It wasn't serious? It wasn't recent? It wasn't consensual?"

As the words leave my mouth, I watch as Bruce flitches just a little. He looks up at me, eyes broken before they shift. Instead of my Bruce, I have Batman sitting in front of me. Emotionless. Cold. He shut down on me.

"I don't know what you want me to say." He says, eyes not moving from mine.

"That's not good enough, Bruce." I whisper. Taking a step back. "I don't like what you've become." I say, shaking my head and backing further from the desk. "You were supposed to be mine. For fifteen years, you were mine. But now there's this.... reminder of someone else. A child that wasn't with me."

"It wasn't like that," He says.

"Then tell me what it was like, Bruce! Tell me why you did this to me?!" I snap at him, needing something that could ground me. But he just stares back down at the desk. The same expression on his face, like the wood holds all the answers. Answers he can't let me in on.

My heart shatters as I watch him staring, not moving at all, brarely even breathing. "I can't do this anymore." I whisper, moving towards the door. "I need some time to myself. To think. To consider....." I turn fully around and unlock the door, my hands shaking so bad that I need to use  both. "Tell the boys I love them." I say without looking back at him.

"Don't follow me." I whisper before barging out of the door. All four boys are crowded near the door, seeming to be waiting for us.

They all look towards me as the door opens, but I just walk straight past them without a word. They all try to talk to me, but I can't say anything, needing to just get out of this house.

Away from all the problems. Away from the man that I love, trusted. But he can't seem to give me any words to make me want to stay.

In the Office

I can't move. I can't think. She's gone, and she took my heart with her. Everything runs through my head over and over, but nothing will change what I did. Or what I didn't do.

When she closes the door behind her, I don't move. Not even when her footsteps fade down the hall and the front door slams shut behind her. I just stay at the desk, stay hunched over, and stare at the wood. The silence is worse without her in it.

I could still run after her. Tell her what really happened. That Talia drugged me and took advantage of my state. But I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can see the look she might give me afterwards.

I won't be able to handle telling her that I started remembering everything that happened, but I didn't do a thing to stop it. I couldn't do anything. But it just makes me feel worse.

I lean more forward and press the palm of my hands into my eyes, trying to regain my control. Trying to even out my breath. Slow, controlled, hollow. But the door swings open before I can get too far.

"Okay, what the hell is going on!" Jasons voice rings out as he walks in. "Did you cheat on Mum? You screwed around on her?"

"Just leave it alone, boy," I say, trying to stay calm, not lifting my head to look at him.

"She was crying, Bruce, crying over you. She never cries," Dicks desperate voice rings out next.

Without even looking up, I can image the two of them, standing in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at me. At least I know she's protected if I won't be around anymore.

Tim's worried voice comes out next, the worry bleeding into his tone, "She said it was just adult stuff. But that wasnt just any fight."

"I said leave it!" I growl at them and look up to find Damian also in the room. Silent and brooding but watching me like he was trying to solve a riddle.

"No, you leave it!" Jason snaps, stepping closer to me. "You broke her! What the hell went down in here!"

"Get. Out. All of you." I snap at them, anger burning my eyes. That seems to freeze them all.

Jason steps back a little and Dick sighs. "Come on. He's not going to talk. Not now." He whispers, ushering them all out.

Tim hesitates as he looks me in the eyes to say, "She doesn't just leave, you know that. Not without a reason." Then he's gone. The door clicking shut behind him.

And for the first time in fifteen years I feel completely and utterly alone.

Hotel Somewhere, Few Days Later

The hotel room that I've checked into is alright. Somewhere that people won't look for me. But that didn't stop everyone from trying to contact me.

Over the past 2 days I've been getting texts and calls none stop. 26 missed calls and 43 messages. Most are from Tim and Dick, some are from Alfred and even one call from Jason. But none are from Bruce. However, the last one from Tim is what catches my eye.

Tim: Please mum, just let us know that you're safe. We don't need to know where you are. Just let us know you're ok. We're all worried.

I don't know what to do. I know that I should do something, but I can't get myself to move in order to call them.

If I tell them I'm ok, I'd be lying. Physically, I'm ok, but I still can't get over it. He hurt me. He brought a child into my home, one I've grown to love, only to find out that's he's his biological child. That he knew all along.

I finally go to call Tim when there's a sharp knock at the door. I tense as I wait. No one should know where I am. Another knock rings out. This one is more rapid.

I slowly get up from the bed and move to the door, looking through the peep-hole, as the door explodes into me. I scream on impact and try to cover myself as best I can.

Smoke fills the room as heavy steps echo in the small room. I groan as I push the door off me, looking up to see blurry figures advancing towards me.

I go to attack when I feel a sharp pain in my neck, something entering my bloodstream. My body goes numb as I sink to the ground, the world slowly going black as I notice a symbol on one of the figures' arms.

H.I.V.E.

Batcave, Hours Later

I haven't been sleeping. Every time I close my eyes, I see her heartbroken eyes. So I've been spending my time in the cave. Scanning throughevery CCTV traffic cams, just for a glimpse that she is ok.

Even with all of Gothm's data at my fingertips though, I can't find a single thing with her in it. But she's Batwoman. She knows how to stay in the shadows.

"She hasnt used her card. No GPS pings. There is no sign of her car. No one's seen or heard from her since she left." Alfred says from behind me.

"She's hiding from me." I say.

I feel Alfred step closer and watch him as he crosses his arms. "Or something has happened to her."

"She just needed some space, that's all." I explain, moving to another camera.

"You've had fights before Bruce. She never leaves like this. Or she at least tell me where she is going. Always answers the boys' texts." Alfred's voice hardens as he continues. "If this was anyone else missing, you'd already have every single person out in the field looking for them."

I sigh and fully look at him. "I know. But I don't know what to do."

He studies me for a second, this eyes softening a little. "Then go out and look for her." He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I nod and finally get out of the chair, moving towards the Batmobile. "Bring up traffic cams feeds from hotels located near lower Gotham. Run facial recognition against every check-in desk. I'll start looking out there." I tell him, opening the door to the car.

Before we can get too far, Tim's voice crackles over the cams. "Bruce. I was investigating some chatter that I had been picking up from a H.I.V.E. operative that I was tracking. He was told that Mrs Wayne was delivered. I think they took mum."

I freeze for a minute, trying to let the words sink in. Then I snap, "I want every file that we have on H.I.V.E. pulled up. Now."

Underground Cell

I feel like I've been run over. My head is pounding, my mouth feels dry, and there's a soft ringing in my ear.

I try to move but my arm doesn't move. I shake and hear the distinct sound of metal hitting metal. 'Great. My hand is handcuffed to a chair.'

I open my eyes to see if I can work out where I might be but the room in bland. It's dark beside the light above me that is flashing slowly on and off. I scan the room to find a camera set up, pointing directly at me, a woman standing right next to it smiling.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says, slowly starting to work towards me. Her heels click on the concrete floor as she moves closer.

I look her over, and she looks like most other H.I.V.E. operatives. She's tall and blonde but holds herself upright, almost like she's a force to be reckond with. She continues to smile at me, but it's cold and scary. I wanna be anywhere but here.

"You're quite valuable,  you know?" She asks, wiping something off of my face. I try to move away from her, but she just grips my chin. "Not just as Bruce Wayne's wife, but as someone that Batman truly wants to protect."

"I won't help you," I snap at her, trying to get out of her grasp, but she's holding on tight.

"Oh honey," she whispers, moving in closer to my ear. "You already are. Just by existing he has a weaken."

She moves back and lifts the tablet for me to see. On the screen in a paused video of me and Bruce as Batman, kissing on a rooftop. A time we thought was completely alone.

"This connection? That's leverage. And leverage gets results." She smiles and leans in close to whisper, "You are gonna help me make him bleed."

Batcave, Few Days Later

"They still have her in Gotham," I explain to everyone as a pace in front of a large holoscreen. "The H.I.V.E. facility that's she's in is underground. Most likely located in the East End industrial sector."

Everyone is looking at me worried but still focused. "They moved fast," Tim speaks up from the computer. He hasn't been able to leave it since she was taken, and it's showing. "Scrambled cams as they drove. Disguised the entries. But I did find a residual trace of heat signatures near an abandoned meatpacking plant. There are old tunnels under it."

"Classic villain move. Take the one person he can't afford to use and bury her underground." Jason mutters, his hands balling into fists.

"Then we dig them out," Damian snaps.

Dick frowns suddenly and sits forward as he says, "We don't even know what they want. If they have already made contact..."

"They haven't," I cut in, looking over at him. "They won't until they think they've broken her."

The boys are all silent for a moment. Thinking what none of us want to accually say. What if it's already too late. Jason steps forward to say, "Then lets move before they even get the chance."

"I'll be going in first." I tell them, leaving them no room to argue back. "You four will flank. We come in from all angles, give them nowhere to escape. These places are like hornets nests. One wrong move, and we trigger a swarm."

Tim swipes through some blueprints and brings one up for us all to see. "The tunnels are unstable. But there is a ventilation shift around this area. It's a tight fit, but it will lead directly to where they might be holding mum." I look at the screen to see if there's something that we might have missed, but the plan is solid.

I look over at the boys as Tim whispers, "If they've hurt her.."

Damian buts in and snaps, "They won't get the chance to do it again."

Underground Cell

My heart hammers in my chest as I look around me again. They have a guard on the other side of the glass, but he always turns around after watching me for a while. The perfect amount of time to escape.

I feel the chair and finally pull off a price of metal to help with my escape.  But then I just wait. The guard looks at me before finally looking away.

I bend the metal in my hand and jam it into the lock. I move it around until I hear a soft click. One down, one to go.

I stay in that potion, not wanting to catch his attention before shoving the metal into the other lock. I struggle to get this one open, but just as I do, the door swings open.

The blonde walks through with two guards behind her. "Well, well. Aren't you clever one." Shs mocks at me.

Without a second thought, I lunge at her. But the guards are faster. I manage to hit one of them, but before I can turn to the other, he stabs a taser into my side.

Pain shots through my body, everything freezing up. I scream through the pain and drop to the floor when he steps away.

The blonde moves in front of me and grabs my chin to force me to look at her. "I was going to wait for your precious Dark Knight to show up before I did anything. But after this stunt?" Her smile turns from 'nice' to cruel in a moment. "I think we should speed things up."

She slaps me in the face and gets up, moving to the camera. The guard lifts me by the collar and faces me to the camera, the red light mocking me as it slowly blinks.

Part 2

[poquita-cosa02]

Prince.

@wolfstarmicrofic l 828 words.

At seven years old, Remus Lupin knows many things about the world. His mother always tells him that he is a smart boy, and he believes her, because one of the things Remus knows is that his mother never lies. 

He also knows how to take care of his mother's plants, especially the roses. It's very important to take care of them, because nobody else does, and Remus couldn't let them wither. 

Remus knows he's smart because he reads books– books for big kids. 

His favourite book in the entire world is Beauty and the Beast. He likes it because it's the first book he read all by himself, with no help from his mum. 

The beast is terrifying. But Remus is a big, brave and smart boy. And smart boys must read, because books are always right. 

He also knows where his dad hides the chocolate at their house, and he has developed a perfect technique to take a little bit each time as his parents work, so they never know. 

He knows they mustn't discover him, because it's a secret. Secrets must be kept, no matter what, and Remus is the best at keeping secrets, because he's a smart boy. 

So smart he is, that he knows nobody should get into other people's houses without permission. So when he saw the kid running in his garden, with long hair full of little twigs and leaves, and jumping carelessly between the bushes, he knew he must protect his house.

Because Remus Lupin is a brave boy. 

“Leave!” He screamed as he ran across the back door, making the kid scared and jump back, falling over one of the rose bushes. 

“No!” Remus ran desperately, using all of his force to push the intruder out of there. “No. No. No.” He repeated, looking at the broken branches and the destroyed petals. “You're mean and cruel!” He shouted, facing the kid's confused and pale face. “Why did you hurt them?” Remus' voice broke and he covered his face in frustration, trying to stop the tears. 

Brave. Brave. Brave. 

Remus was a brave boy. 

Brave boys don't cry. 

Remus picked the fallen petals from the floor and desperately tried to put them together. 

Smart. 

He was a smart boy. 

But it didn't work. Remus thought he could use some glue, but it was in a tall drawer he wasn't allowed to touch, and he was an obedient boy. 

A good son. 

Not a monster.

A boy. 

A kind boy. 

And he must fix this, because Remus knew the roses are important to the beasts. If they weren't there, how would the princess break the curse?

How would she save him from staying a beast forever?

Remus was brought back to reality when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. 

Remus' eyes were blurry but he could still distinguish the boy sitting next to him. His hands were together making a cup where the fallen petals had been put together imitating the shape of a rose. 

Remus sobbed and rubbed his face. “Thanks,” he whispered, and his stomach turned in a strange way at the boy's wide smile. Maybe he was already getting sick, the full moon was close after all. 

“I'm sorry I hurt your flowers,” the boy whispered. “They are really beautiful.”

“I took care of them by myself.” Remus' voice was still watery, but he raised his chin up proudly. 

“Wow… we don't have flowers at my house.” The kid was looking at the handmade rose in his hands. “They are really beautiful.” He repeated. 

“Mhm,” Remus nodded. “Do you want to play gardeners with me?” Remus wasn't sure why he had said that. These were his roses. But the boy had delicate, careful hands, and Remus thought he could finally have a friend. 

“Yes!” the boy exclaimed. His eyes were bright and Remus felt that feeling in his stomach again. 

“Why were you in my garden?” Remus asked after a while as Sirius– as the boy had presented himself– used a long grass to tie the petals together.

“Oh! I was running to save the princess! Evan is the monster and he wanted to attack her, and I'm the prince. So I have to save Pandora from him.”

“And you're a prince?” Remus looked suspiciously at the boy.

“Well, sure!” Sirius seemed offended, and Remus shrugged as he picked more petals to help him. His hands were not as delicate as Sirius' and no matter how many times he tried, the petals slipped away between his fingers before he could put the rose together. 

“Prince Sirius.” Remus whispered looking at him. 

His long hair was flying behind him and his chin was up high. The savage smile was still there, but it seemed more distinguished as he extended the handmade rose at Remus. 

“Thanks,” he whispered.  

The weird feeling in his stomach had gone all the way through his chest to his face, making his cheeks blush.

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[siriusblack-the-third]

HEADCANONS: BILL WEASLEY

Tall. So damn tall. By the time he stops growing, he has reached 6'5, and he gleefully lords it over his younger siblings for years, until Ron manages to match his exact height, not a millimetre here or there. He sulks about it for a few days before inviting Ron to join him in taking the piss out of their siblings.

Wears his hair long specifically to annoy Molly. It was simply because he was so caught up in OWL studies that he forgot to cut it, but then Molly saw him with his hair that reached the base of his neck and freaked. He deliberately kept his hair long from then on, and it kind of grew on him by 7th year.

Speaking of hair, he has fabulous hair. Absolutely gorgeous. Stunning. It's pin straight like Arthur's, unlike Charlie who got Molly's tightly wound curls. He keeps it till mid back and braids it frequently. Bill And Ginny Days™ compulsorily have at least one braiding session.

THIS BOI IS BI! He is very bi and his type is ✨Badass Motherfucker✨ as evidenced by him falling for Fleur like look at her. Enough said.

Quidditch fiend, like all the other Weasleys, and was on the team from 2nd year all the way up to the end of 6th year as Chaser. Dropped Quidditch in 7th year, because being Head Boy and being a Quidditch player while studying for NEWT exams would have been too much for him and he knew it.

Got his ear pierced in 5th year from his best friend after winning a Quidditch match. He was half drunk, and when he woke up the next day he freaked the fUCK out. He managed to hide the piercing from Molly for a record breaking eight months, and the shouting match that happened in the summer before his 6th year was the worst argument he ever had with her.

Has Eldest Daughter Syndrome™. He resents Molly a little, because he never entirely got to be a child. He always had to be the Responsible Older Sibling, even as young as 3 years old. He loves his mother, but living under the same roof as her was suffocating, for him. He said as much to Arthur in a very long conversation, and they both decided with much difficulty that Bill wouldn't be returning home after 7th year— he would immediately leave for Egypt.

In the first year of his stay in Egypt he decided to say "fuck it" and got a tattoo. It's on his shoulder, a falcon in greyscale that spreads down over his bicep and out on his shoulder blade. Molly does not find out about it until the end of HBP when he gets mauled by Greyback, and he does not tell her anything about it, claiming that he is "an adult and can get a tattoo if I want to Mum, back off."

N E R D. Such a huge nerd but people look at his piercings, long hair, muscles and his whole "90s rockstar" vibe and immediately assume he is the "popular jock" type, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. My man freaks out over magical history, ancient runes and languages, transfiguration and arithmancy. A total nerd, I tell you, and scary smart. He got 12 Outstanding OWLs and 8 Outstanding NEWTs, and reduced Molly to incoherent happy crying both times.

The Hat offered him Slytherin, and he seriously considered the option for a good few minutes. "You have a lot of ambition," the Hat told him to his pleasure, "and a thirst to find your true calling." At the age of eleven, he was already sick of being "just one of the Weasleys" and wanted to step out of his parents' shade and figure himself out. In the end, the Hat sorted him in Gryffindor, but many times he has wondered what life would have been like if he ever sorted Slytherin.

Knows a lot of dances. Arthur and Molly are both fabulous dancers, and a few of his favourite childhood memories begin with his parents teaching him how to move his hips and slide his feet and enjoy the music. He's great at waltzing, knows the foxtrot and swing dance, and learnt paso doble and the tango in the seven years he spent in Egypt.

Listens to a lot of muggle rock music. All the cool bands like AC/DC, Oasis, Nirvana, Green Day, and all of those, plus a few obscure bands that he decided he liked the sound of. He's also big on different types of classical music, courtesy of his love for dance.

His favourite sibling is Charlie. Don't get him wrong, he loves all his siblings, but Charlie has a special place in his heart because they're both close in age and understand each other better than anyone else. Bill and Charlie are almost like Fred and George, a bit: one look and they know everything the other is thinking. Doesn't have a least favourite sibling, but seriously considered Percy for the role during OoTP.

Loves learning languages. The languages he is fluent in are English, Gaelic, Welsh, Old Norse and Icelandic, Latin, Ancient Greek, Spanish, Arabic (Egyptian and Hassaniya dialects), and Persian.

Has a soft spot for Ginny, like every other Weasley. That's his baby sister who can put him on his back in less than 0.2 seconds and he adores her.