ravenclaws-stuff

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Okay so I am writing my first cowboy! au type story. Its based off the song Good Directions by Billy Currington.

I have never written anything like this before nor have I written a song fic. So hopefully it's not horrible🤞🏻

If it is, pls ignore it and act like I never posted it whenever I do

[ravenclaws-stuff]

A final signal. Gaza is completely cut off from the world—no internet, no connection—and Israel is blocking every attempt to reconnect, targeting anyone who tries. Now Iran is being bombed and the region stands on the brink of explosion while we remain trapped in deadly silence. If this message reaches you, it may be our last chance. Help us secure a safe home and education for our children❤️‍🩹 Don’t let Gaza disappear in silence.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Did I almost cry? Yes. But it was so good!!!

Poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: hurt/comfort; implied toxic exes; brief mentions of blood and wounds; James and Sirius are accidentally harsh

Summary: After a full moon James and Sirius snap at you, and you think it’s your fault.

A/n: this is total self indulgent; my sister snaps at me a lot for no reason and it makes me feel bad. So I needed the marauders to comfort me.

——————————————————————————

Sirius says your name more harshly than you’ve ever heard him say it before.

“Stop. We’ve got it under control. Go to bed,” James adds sternly.

He’s never used that tone with you.

Your heart pounds in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. You don’t have it in you to respond. Instead you just scurry off to your room, locking yourself in for the foreseeable future.

You’d just been trying to help. It was the first full moon that you knew about Remus’ lycanthropy. You’d suspected for months before but wanted to wait until your boyfriend told you himself.

And now that you knew, you wanted to provide all the support you could. James and Sirius, your other boyfriends, made it clear that they would handle his transition- that they’d been doing it for years. That was all fine and good. But you thought maybe, maybe you could help in other ways- to patch up the boys, or feed them, or just take care of them somehow.

Instead now you’ve ruined everything. You pushed yourself into a situation where you clearly didn’t belong and now your boyfriends are angry at you. It’s all your fault. You know it’s true because this isn’t the first time this has happened. Not with your current boyfriends, but with past exes. You’d been scolded by them for being too much, for being pushy, and nosy, and clingy. And now James, Sirius, and Remus- once he is conscious- realize it too.

Maybe if you stay hidden, you think, and don’t bother them for awhile they’ll forget and forgive you. Perhaps they won’t leave you too.

You wipe at the tears leaking out of your eyes, hot on your cheeks, and crawl under the covers of your own bed. You haven’t slept alone in god knows how long and you try to ignore the lonely ache in your chest. You have to do this. To save your relationship. You curl up in a ball and wait, hoping sleep will take away the pain of being awake.

None of your boyfriends notice your absence until the next day because they are so exhausted, beaten, and worried about Remus. It makes total sense for you to be off, asleep in your room. But they start to get worried when you still haven’t come out around eleven. You’re not exactly an early riser, but you never sleep this late either.

While James is cooking, Sirius redresses his werewolf boyfriend’s wounds. Remus’ tired brown eyes blink sleepily, eyes trailing from the kitchen to the boy in front of him, “where’s dove?”

James walks in with plates in hand, “she can’t still be sleeping?”

Sirius’ gray eyes flicker with worry, “I’ll go check on her.”

He stands and pads down the hall to your room. The raven-haired boy tries the door knob but finds that it’s locked. He frowns and knocks on the door, “baby?”

You’ve been awake for hours, never quite being able to fall asleep with the guilt wrecking your stomach and the constant stream of tears assaulting your cheeks. When you hear the knock on the door and Sirius’ voice you flinch, automatically withdrawing into yourself.

He knocks again, “why’s the door locked? Is everything alright?”

You tremble as you stand up and wipe at your face. You look awful- your eyes are red and puffy and heavy bags sit beneath them. You know the evidence won’t go away but hopefully you can play it off as worry for Remus. That would at least be true.

You unlock the door and are met with Sirius’ worried face. There are obvious scratches and bruises littering his body and he looks just as tired as you- his hair tousled and skin paler than normal. Your boyfriend’s dark eyebrows furrow in concern even more at the sight of your appearance, “were you still asleep?”

You decide to lie.

It doesn’t seem like Sirius believes you but he doesn’t push it, ushering you down the hall to the living room. James is attempting to feed Remus, despite the latter’s protest, and it warms your heart. When their eyes find your figure you freeze and Sirius nearly bumps into you. He places a steadying hand on your waist.

You can’t look at James, still recalling his words from last night. They fixate on Remus but you try not to stare either, not wanting to seem like you’re pitying him or anything.

“Dove,” your boyfriend says hoarsely, “you’re awake.”

You meet the sandy-haired boy’s eyes for a moment, and your heart breaks. He looks so worn and beaten. But of course you don’t mention it, and you don’t move to coddle him. It’s not your place.

You don’t really know what to say so you just smile shyly, “morning.”

Confusion flickers across Remus’ features and you feel your face heat, downturning your head.

“Jamie made breakfast,” Sirius mentions, pushing you towards the coffee table where all four plates sit.

You grab the furthest plate and scootch over, placing plenty of room between you and your three boyfriends. You give a murmur of thanks and start to eat quietly, not meeting anyone’s eyes, but they all meet each other’s, concern arising from your vastly different behavior.

“Did you sleep okay, angel?” James murmurs and you flinch.

You look up at him and his hazel eyes are wide, eyebrows hidden behind the tousled curls falling over his forehead, “sweetheart?”

You cringe internally, “sorry uh, I.” You don’t know what to say. Saying you slept good or fine would be a lie, but if you say you slept bad maybe they’d push. And if you say you slept good would they think you’re a terrible partner, so easily able to fall asleep while they were all out here struggling and injured? You don’t know what to do and you choke on a sob. Your own eyes widen and you freeze. Shit, now they were going to be even more upset with you for being dramatic and over emotional.

A hand finds your thigh and without looking you know it’s Sirius’, “doll, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

You shake your head, chewing on your lower lip so harshly you taste blood.

Remus hisses and he says your name sternly, “come here.”

Your eyes shine with more tears as you pitifully walk towards him, “I’m sorry- I- I’m making things about me but it should be about you and I did that last night too and- and.”

“Dove? What are you on about?” Your boyfriend’s bandaged hand comes up and cups your cheek, running his thumb over your lower lip to wipe the small drop of blood away, “you’re not doing anything of the sort. I’m not the center of the world just because there’s been a full moon.”

“But you’re hurt-“

“And you’re upset,” James interjects.

“No one’s problems matter more or less than the other’s,” Sirius adds, “I would know. I used to feel the same, baby. I thought my problems paled in comparison to Remus’ furry little problem or Jamie’s bad days. But they don’t. They’re just as important, hm?”

“Come sit with me,” Remus declares, and you can tell it’s not a question.

You timidly crawl into his lap and he pulls you against him. He’s so warm and you want to relax entirely against him but you don’t, worried you’re gonna hurt him.

“So are you going to tell us what happened?” James asks softly, sweeping a thumb over your ankle bone.

You don’t respond.

“Baby…” Sirius mutters.

“I’m sorry for getting in the way last night,” you murmur so softly it’s almost intelligible.

Your eyes are downcast but you feel Remus lock eyes with your other two boyfriends over your head.

“What? You didn’t, you-“ James trails off and his hazel eyes fill with guilt, “oh, angel. I’m so sorry. I was too harsh last night. I- I didn’t mean...”

“No- it’s okay, you were right I should’ve-“

“No,” your raven-haired boyfriend interrupts, “you didn’t do anything wrong. You were just trying to help. And we lashed out.”

Remus coos softly and pulls you closer to him, “oh, my sweet angel dove. Were Jamie and Sirius mean to you?”

You pout and your eyes widen in fear, “no, I-“

He huffs a laugh into your hair and kisses your head, “I’m teasing, my love. But they’re right. They shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Sirius moves to sit next to James and the set of hazel and grey eyes look up at you pitifully.

“We really are sorry, sweetheart. Our behavior was unacceptable.”

“And we love you so, so much.”

James kisses your ankle and Sirius brushes his lips over your knuckles.

“Let us make it up to you, hm?” James offers.

“We’ll take care of both you and Rem,” Sirius adds, kissing your palm.

“But we should focus on Remus and-“

“You can focus on me by staying right here in my arms, dove,” Remus answers, kissing your cheek, “your love is the best cure.”

“Are you sure I wasn’t being a nuisance?” You ask, throat thick with tears, “because I’ve been told before that I’m too much and I’d understand if you wanted to leave me and-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” James protests, sitting up on the couch, “we’re not going anywhere, hm? You’re not getting rid of us that easy.”

Sirius cups your cheek and kisses your forehead, “you’re perfect just the way you are. And we love the way you love us, baby.”

Remus brushes his thumb over your nose, “so let us love you too.”

So you do.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

I am distraught.

I bought a cookie dough and brownie concrete.

But it's too hot outside for me to enjoy it.

So please someone send me cooler weather🙏🏻🙏🏻

[ravenclaws-stuff]

I love it!!!

For the game

Can I get Spencer, in a preschool playroom, with ²⁸⁾ “neither of us are leaving this room until you tell me how you got that shiner.”

Maybe reader is a preschool teacher and Spencer comes in on his day off.

Please and thank you. Also I love your stories so much!

you sure can! thanks for playing <3

Spencer Reid x gn!reader who has a black eye [1k words]

CW: no gender markers used for reader, discussion of a black eye, fluff

Spencer’s not in the practice of using his credentials to get what he wants, but the staff at the office of your school hardly bat an eye when he introduces himself as Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, wondering if they could point him in the direction of you. 

He thinks you might be friendly with the receptionist who lights up in recognition at Spencer’s name before dutifully instructing him towards your classroom. That’s probably for the best; it likely isn’t a good look on your part to have the FBI showing up at your workplace to speak with you. 

But it wasn’t the FBI showing up at the workplace to speak with you, it was just Spencer. And Spencer wasn’t in the practice of using his credentials to get what he wants, but he needs to see you; an achingly unfamiliar feeling for the agent but somehow it feels like a fundamentally natural response to a lack of you. 

The day is mostly done; most kids having been seen off on the bus and the remaining few petering out with their parents. Spencer smiles at all of them. 

But the sight of you has his smile falling from his face in an instant. 

“What happened?” He coos emphatically, nearly tripping over the tiny, miniature furniture built for tiny, miniature people. 

“Spencer!” You greet him, mouth open in silent surprise, the mottled skin surrounding your eye completely forgotten at the sight of him.

Luckily, Spencer doesn’t forget so easily. Or at all. 

“What happened to you?”

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer has the grace to chuckle at the two of you speaking over each other, his hands finally rising to take the sides of your face and tilt your head up to inspect it. 

You smile at him like it doesn’t hurt to do so, but Spencer’s sported enough shiners of his own to know that it does. 

“I leave for nine days and come back to find you bruised?” He pouts, thumbs gently brushing the space beneath your lower lashes – touch barely there – as your eyes flutter shut. 

“In fairness to you,” you begin with a chuckle, “this only happened today.”

“While you were at work?” 

Your eyes open then, smile growing even as your brows furrow in bemusement. “What? You leave work beaten and bruised, too. Not to mention the times you’ve been shot or-”

“Okay, alright.” He cuts you off gently, subconsciously worried that a tot might hear the word shot or stabbed. “Well, I tend to work with some of the most dangerous people in the country. You work with preschool children.”

“Hey,” you chide playfully, “you know as well as I do what the stats suggest; any number of these kids could grow up to be on the FBI’s most wanted list.” 

You’re not technically wrong but that’s not the point. Ignoring the area’s demographics, the role that early childhood education plays in the development of healthy behavior patterns, and how it leads to conforming to social norms, Spencer is of the mind that any child who is lucky enough to have had your influence in their life – however brief – can’t possibly grow up to be anything less than lovely. 

He doesn’t say any of that, though, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to level you with his best impression of one of Hotch’s glares; the way you beam at him has him knowing he’s fallen painfully short. 

“Neither of us are leaving this room until you tell me how you got that shiner.”

Your lips purse like you’re trying to be annoyed with him but just can’t manage it; your nose scrunching and hinting at a bit of embarrassment.

“You’re going to laugh at me.” 

“I’d never.” He says with a chuckle; you narrow your eyes at him. “I promise. What happened?” 

“Well…” you start carefully, taking a minuscule step out of Spencer’s grasp as you look anywhere but at him. “We were working on some gross motor skills.”

Spencer hums in agreement. 

“And some hand-eye coordination.”

“Oh jeez.” He whispers; you wince. 

“So I pulled out our little t-ball set.”

“You didn’t.” 

“I did.” You groan; morose. Your forehead tips down until it rests against Spencer’s collarbone. He welcomes you into his arms. “Most of them couldn’t figure it out, you know? I mean, some of them just kept swinging.”

Spencer winces, this time for himself; he does know, intimately. 

A laugh bubbles out of you. “I mean, one of them I had to keep telling to keep their eye on the ball, and they stepped up to the tee and actually touched their eye to the ball!”

“Hilarious and adorable, but I am struggling to see how that translates to you sporting a black eye.”

Spencer can actually feel you cringe against his chest. 

“Turns out, one of the kids has been practicing all summer with her dad. She, well, she’s got a really good swing on her.” 

“Oh, love.” Spencer pouts as he pulls you away from his chest to examine your face again. 

Yeah, just as he expected; still lovely albeit bruised.

“I feel ridiculous.” You admit with a laugh. “I mean, it was just one of those little plastic balls. Who knew they could cause so much damage?”

Spencer hums noncommittally. “The eye socket is fragile and the tissue surrounding it is very delicate with blood vessels very close to the surface. Even a relatively minor impact to the face can cause trauma to the area. It’s called a periorbital hematoma; it's caused by bleeding beneath the skin due to broken blood vessels.” 

His eyes leave yours only to flit down to your lips; you’re smiling at him. Beaming, really.

“What?” 

“I feel better now.” You murmur happily, leaning further into him so that your lips graze his chin as you speak.

He smirks, ducking his chin so that your lips are level with one another before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Well I’ll feel better once I get you home with a cold compress and furniture built for adults.”

You sigh happily and grab your work bag. “Well? Lead the way, Doctor Reid.” 

You don’t have to tell him twice.

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

UNCASUAL REMINDER!!!!!!!

if you’re MAGA, if you’re racist, if you’re homophobic, if you’re transphobic, if you’re not a feminist, if you’re not against deportation, if you’re against abortions, if you like the orange man, if you’re pro israel

BLOCK ME RIGHT NOW!!!!

didn’t think i’d have to say it again but ig i do!!

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Sirius Black x reader

Tags: established relationship, set during the Order of Phoenix, Sirius struggles when Harry goes to Hogwarts, Luckily he has you to help him through it, Sirius lives as Snuffles basically until he's comfortable, Snuffles is his "dog" name in the books, hurt comfort

Summary: Some days Sirius can only exist as Snuffles.

Puppy Love

The floor creaks under your woolen socks as you peek into the room, frowning when you find it empty.

Not in here either.

Where was Sirius?

Sure this house is huge, but it shouldn’t be this hard to find the six foot skeleton who resides (forced) in his childhood home.

“Sirius?” you call, walking down the stairs.

“Half breeds in my house! Disgusting blood traitors.” You roll your eyes. “Lovely to see you as well Walburga.”

You have been worried for Sirius. It has been almost a week since all the children have gone back to Hogwarts. The house was alive with joy and happiness.

Now, it was quiet. Eerily quiet. You could recall watching what little light was left leaving Sirius’s eyes as the train left the station, taking Harry with it. Since the children left, you could count on one hand the amount of times Sirius has left his room.

Not even coming out for food.

A sigh of relief escapes your chest, spotting the curled up ball of fur in front of the fireplace. Walking quietly across the living room, you make sure not to knock into anything. If Sirius was actually asleep, you would absolutely hate myself for waking him. Finding a spot on the floor next to him, you rest your head against the chair behind me.

“Sirius?”

No answer.

“Siri?”

You shuffle closer, your left leg pressed against his fur.

“Padfoot?”

Still no answer.

“Pads?”

Not even a shuffle.

Frowning, you look away, using a finger to play with the rug beneath us.

An idea pops into your head as you look over at the dog.

“Snuffles?”

My whole upper body slumps in relief as his right ear twitches.

He’s still here.

An hour passes and nothing has changed. Except for Sirius resting his head on your lap. Your fingers run through his fur on the top of his head, focusing on the spot behind his ear that you know makes his tail wag.

“I’m here for you, Sirius. I’m not going to promise it will all be okay. That’s just unreasonable as we are in the middle of a war. But I need you to know, I will always be here for you. As long as you want me to.”

His nose brushes against your hand, pink tongue sticking up to give you a small kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, the warmth soothing to your skin.

“I love you Sirius Black, Snuffles and all.”

[ravenclaws-stuff]

[ravenclaws-stuff]

How? Just how?

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Just know I am jealous of every single one of below 80°F/27°C.

As of right now, it is 5:36 pm and the temperature is 106.

Thank the universe, my aunt and uncle have a pool

⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️

Accurate representation of me this week

(Fyi I am Baloo)

Just curious

Also if those conversions are wrong, my bad. I just followed a chart I found😅

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Just curious

Also if those conversions are wrong, my bad. I just followed a chart I found😅

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Did I do the dishes like I am supposed to? Yes.

Am I taking a break from finishing the task? Yes.

Why you may ask?

I touched a soggy part and my brain wants to have a freaking panic attack over it.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

My biggest kink of all is feeling like you actually want me.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

I miss my man 💔💔😔😔😔 (he doesn’t exist and probably wouldn’t even like me if he did)

[ravenclaws-stuff]

The Car Boot Sale

Pairing: Poly!Wolfstar x Disabled!Reader Summary: You didn't plan on spending your Saturday at a car boot sale with Lily, but somehow you end up beside a cluttered table with a prosthetic aching and secondhand books toppling over. You're questioning the whole thing, until Sirius and Remus show up. Tags: disabled!reader, prosthetic leg, depictions of chronic pain, sirius is sunshine in a denim jacket, remus is gentle and steady, flirting, meet cute, no established relationship yet, background lily evans being a menace, soft boys being intuitive, fluff, reader tripping but not falling for once, reader slowly realising she's wanted exactly as she is, no use of y/n, slightly awkward!reader, sirius with tattoos, remus with his cane, just a little pre-relationship tenderness Word count: 950 words

You're not entirely sure how Lily does it. One moment you're casually mentioning that your weekend is open, the next you're standing by a folding table laden with second-hand books and slightly disconcerting porcelain figures, under a tent smelling of damp canvas and fried onions.

The car boot sale is a flurry of activity, an orchestra of chatter, laughter, and the occasional dog bark. You cast a glance at the cluttered table and the people milling about, already questioning the wisdom of your decision.

You shift your weight off your prosthetic leg, wincing as the socket chafes against your skin. Then, there's a burst of laughter from across the field, a sound so familiar it cuts through the clamour like a charm. You straighten, scanning the crowd until you see him.

Sirius Black arrives as if he's making an entrance on stage, all swagger and smiles. He's traded his usual leather jacket for a faded denim one, its sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms inked with an array of tattoos. His mirrored sunglasses reflect the grey sky above, but they don't hide the way his face lights up when he spots you.

"Alright, gorgeous?" he calls out, weaving through the crowd with an ease born of practice. "Didn't think I'd see you here. Did they rope you into this too?"

Before you can respond, Remus appears beside him, leaning heavily on his cane as he convinces an older woman to purchase a hideous orange scarf. His smile is warm when he notices you, and he raises two fingers in a casual salute.

"Good to see you," he says, his tone genuinely welcoming.

You try to keep your composure, but it lasts only for a few seconds.

Sirius leans against the table with an air of easy confidence, his gaze flickering briefly to your leg—a fast, almost imperceptible glance that holds none of the usual pity or discomfort. He never stares. And Remus, too, meets your eyes when he speaks, as if the rest of you is just as ordinary.

It should make you more self-conscious, but instead, it brings a sense of relief you didn't know you craved.

About an hour in, you're helping to reshelve some cookbooks when you trip over a protruding table leg. Your hands fly out in front of you, but before you can brace yourself for the impact, a pair of strong arms encircles your waist.

"Whoa, easy there," Sirius murmurs, pulling you back onto your feet. His sunglasses have slipped down his nose, and he pushes them up with a crooked smile. "Got you just in time."

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you nod, unable to find your voice. Heat rushes to your cheeks, but whether from the fall or his close proximity, you can't tell.

"Don't worry about it," Remus adds, coming over with a lopsided grin. He nudges the troublesome table with his foot. "That one's caught me out more times than I'd like to admit. Nearly sued for damages last summer."

Despite the embarrassment, you can't help but chuckle. Sirius's arm is still loosely draped around your shoulders, not so much holding you up now as keeping you grounded. You don't really want him to let go.

And they don't stray far after that. Whether it's Sirius playfully bumping your shoulder every few minutes or Remus cracking jokes to lighten the mood, they seem to sense when you need distraction. When your prosthetic leg begins to ache from standing, they switch tasks with you, making it look seamless. It's as if looking out for you has become second nature.

Later, as the sun dips below the horizon and you're sitting on the curb with a bag of chips between you, you feel a different kind of energy—not tiredness, exactly, but something more potent.

Sirius nudges your leg with his knee, his eyes searching for yours. "Just spitballing here," he starts, his voice low and tentative. "But say there were two incredibly good-looking blokes who happened to be mad about you. Would you be into that sort of thing?"

You glance at him, then over at Remus. The light catches on the edge of Remus' glasses, hiding his eyes for a moment before he looks up, meeting your gaze. His hand rests lightly on his cane, knuckles white against the polished wood. He doesn't look away, and there's a softness in his expression that makes your heart stutter.

"It's not just your laugh," Remus says quietly, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken words. "It's... everything. How you see people. How you're always there." He pauses, swallowing hard. "Your prosthetic—it's part of you, and we..." He glances at Sirius, who nods, a silent pact passing between them. "We like all of you."

Your breath hitches, caught somewhere between disbelief and hope. You blink, once, twice, as if trying to clear away the fog of surprise.

"Also," Sirius murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice as he leans onto Remus's shoulder, "you looked rather cute when you tripped over that table leg."

Despite the situation, laughter bubbles up within you, breaking the surface tension. It's not much, but it's a start—a small step toward normalcy.

"Yes," you breathe out, the word feeling foreign on your lips, "I would be into that sort of thing."

Remus grins, as if he's just won a small victory, and Sirius pumps his fist in the air, nearly upsetting the bag of crisps. The scent is enticing—warm oil, late summer, and the promise of something better.

And as Sirius steals the last chip and Remus pretends not to notice, you realise you’re not just standing—you're finally finding your footing.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Another one just like my story

Somebody catch me. Call the medics.

It is such a surreal feeling when someone you follow likes one of your stories.

Currently floating on Cloud 9

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Gaara x reader

Tags: married, adopted Shinki, Christmas, pregnant, fluff,

Summary: You give Gaara the best Christmas gift he could have ever asked for.

Christmas. The holiday of gift giving and family time. Most households awake with the children jumping on the parents, shouting that it was Christmas. Yet your house was not like most. Instead of being woken up by excited children, you were woken up by the sound of someone pounding on the door.

You groan, carefully sliding out of the bed as to not wake your husband. It was for him to sleep through any noise, so you could not bring it to yourself to wake him now that he was finally get some decent amount of sleep.

With your robe and slippers on, you peek through the blinds, groaning. The locks click open as you open the door. There stood your brother in law, Kankuro, dressed as Santa Claus.

“Kuro? What are you doing here?” He shakes his head, walking straight into the house, with a bag of presents. “Its Christmas, sis. Now where is my nephew?” You roll your eyes, walking straight to the kitchen. Coffee. If you were going to manage to not murder your brother in law, then you need coffee.

“Asleep. Just like everyone in this house.” You give him a pointed look, daring him to argue. He knows better than anyone how little sleep Gaara gets. He also knows how painful his death will be if he wakes him up. Kankuro sighs, dramatically falling onto the couch. “Well, can I at least have a cup as well if I have to simmer my jolly cheer?”

The day passes as quick as a blink, but also seemed to drag on longer than possible. The sun set hours ago, leaving Kankuro passed out in the guest bedroom and Shinki asleep peacefully in his own bed. You yawn, drying the last few dishes and putting them in the cabinet.

“I am so glad Shinki liked his new kunais.” Gaara hums, falling onto the couch with a quiet thump. “Me too.” You bend over, picking a blue bow that was hidden under the couch. “What was your favorite present from today?”

You ask, holding the bow behind your back. Gaara lets his head fall back onto the couch, taking a second to think about it. “I would have to say my favorite gift would be the picture you got for me. I already know exactly where I am going to put it.” You smile, knowing the sonogram would be his favorite. You and Shinki worked very hard trying to keep it a secret from your husband. Our normally stoic son cried in your arms when you let him listen to his new sibling’s heartbeat.

“What about you, darling?” You walk around the couch, stopping in the space between Gaara’s legs. Bending forward, you level your face with his. “My favorite gift would have to be-” You reach around, placing the bow on top of his red hair. “You. You are my favorite gift.”

Gaara coughs, cheeks turning a soft pink color. His fingers tug you onto his lap. He buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“You-” His voice cracks before his fingers tighens around your waist. “You are-” You run your fingers through his hair. You were enjoying this. The cold and hardened Hokage turned to mush underneath you.

“Amazing? Loving? The best wife in the whole world? Because if so, can you tell teh elders. They are still upset you married me over the princess from the land of waves.” Gaara pulls away, a frown replacing the soft smile. “Are they still giving you a hard time over that?” You shrug. “I’ve learned to ignore it but please don't worry about them. We have to celebrate the good news.” Gaara nods, agreeing to dop the subject. His right hand slides from my hip to my stomach. “Tell me everything I have missed about our precious angel.”